“To serve the purpose of their party”

Over the past couple of days, I’ve been quoting letters to the newspapers of Litchfield, Connecticut, about papermaker Elisha Horton’s conversations with his employer, Julius Deming, around the election of 1804.

Horton stated in court and in the press that Deming told him to vote his conscience. Four other people said Horton had complained to them at the time that he was afraid to vote Republican out of fear Deming would fire him and/or shut down the paper mill.

What could make this situation more difficult? Religion! As I noted back here, Horton and his wife were founding members of Litchfield’s Methodist Episcopal Society.

A week after printing Horton’s letter about Election Day, the Federalist Litchfield Monitor evidently ran a piece arguing that the man’s “brethren, who are Methodists, believe him to be a pious, honest, sober citizen for they have proved him and known his ways…”

That 5 Feb 1806 issue of the Litchfield Monitor isn’t in the newspaper database I can access, if it survives at all. I’m quoting from the 5 March Witness, the town’s Republican newspaper.

That issue of the Witness published a letter from four men; one of them, John Stone, had already written to contradicting Horton’s account of 1804. Together those men certified “That said Horton for two years past, or more, has not been considered by the Methodist society in this town as a member of said society.”

The Litchfield Monitor responded on 12 March with two letters. The first said that Horton was being “assailed with all the malice of Democracy, because he was too honest to sell himself to the tools of Alexander Wolcott.” Those four Methodists had written about Horton’s church membership merely “to serve the purpose of their party.”

Alexander Wolcott (1758-1828) was the leader of Connecticut’s Republicans. That year he accused the Federalists of having “priests and deacons, judges and justices, sheriffs and surveyors, with a host of corporations and privileged orders, to aid their elections.” There was no love lost between the parties.

Then came a letter from Horton himself, declaring

Within two years last past, the Methodists…made application to me to become their Leader. . . . I told them that my business was such, that I could not conveniently attend their meetings on week day, and that my constitution would not admit of my being out so far from home in the night, &c.

I have repeatedly attended their Sabbath preaching, and have cast in my mite at their contributions, and had requested John Stone several years ago to call on me when there were any collections to be made.

Another of the certificate signers, Horton said, had carried his contribution to “a poor Methodist Preacher” in a distant town. He concluded:

I am grieved to the heart, to find that men can be so infatuated as to testify as they and others have done, with the notorious design, to wound my feelings, and to murder my reputation.—I do not write this to prejudice you against them, but to let you know how far I am innocent as to what they have testified.

Horton did not, however, attempt to directly deny what Stone and others had written about his dilemma in 1804.

It appears that everyone in Litchfield now knew the real situation. Horton felt dependent enough on Deming that not only had he stopped voting for Republicans, but he also refused to acknowledge feeling any pressure from Deming. This was, after all, before secret ballots.

Later in 1806, Deming sold the paper mill to the partnership of Federalist lawyer Aaron Smith, shopkeeper Timothy Peck, and Horton. After two years Peck and Horton bought Smith out. That evidently restored the papermaker’s political independence.

Life in Litchfield went on. The Federalists lost power nationally, then even in New England. Horton retired from the mill. The election of 1824 shook up the national parties, producing a new duality of Democrats and Whigs.

When Horton died in 1837, the Litchfield Enquirer praised him as a “revolutionary officer” and a veteran of the Boston Tea Party. It also said, “As in ’75, so in ’37, he was a zealous and staunch whig.”

“Could not, while in the employment of Mr. Deming, act on the republican side”

Elisha Horton’s letter detailing what he would have said in court about Julius Deming, quoted yesterday, was actually a response to a previous publication.

Sometime around the turn of the year 1806, Horton testified in a court case that hinged on whether Deming had tried to influence votes in favor of the Federalists.

That day didn’t go well. As in his letter, Horton evidently complained of “a violent pain in my head.” Deming’s political opponents thought that was just a lousy excuse for evasiveness.

On 8 Jan 1806, the Republican Witness newspaper of Litchfield, Connecticut, published an item headlined “Cure for the Headache; Or a Spur for a Dull Memory.” It was a letter from a local man named John Kilborn saying:

That a few days before freeman’s meeting [i.e., Election Day], in the Spring of 1804, I was in company with Mr. Elisha Horton, of Litchfield, at the Paper-mill then owned by Julius Deming, Esq; Mr. Horton then being under the employ of said Deming, as principal workman in said mill.

Mr. Horton remarked to me that he had been requested to use his influence with the republicans to put forward as general an attendance at the approaching election as possible; but that his situation was such with Mr. Deming, that he could not consistently with his interest, pursue that open line of conduct,…that he was convinced from what Mr. Deming had repeatedly manifested to him when speaking to him on the subject of politics, that he would actually discharge him in case he was known to be active with the republicans. . . .

he observed that but a few days before this, Mr. Deming had conversed with him very fully on politics, and had spoken freely of republicans, and declared so sure as republicanism prevailed in Connecticut, he should quit all business and retire to private life;…that he [Horton] was so fixed in business and had expended so much in repairing a convenient dwelling, expecting to continue a long time in said business, that to be turned aside [i.e., laid off], would greatly injure him…

Some of Kilborn’s story matched Horton’s—they agreed that Deming disliked the rise of Republican politics in Connecticut and threatened to retire from business if it continued. But Kilborn said Horton had told him something that Horton denied in court and in his letter: that Deming would fire him for being a Republican voice, and he couldn’t afford to make his boss that angry.

Horton saw one solution to his dilemma, Kilborn wrote: “he was very desirous that some republican should set forward and purchase the paper-mill of Mr. Deming, so that he could continue in business, and at the same time act freely in politics.”

On Election Day, Kilborn wrote, Horton told him about another conversation with Deming, in which the factory owner identified his manager as “a committee-man” for the Republicans and Horton had denied that. Again, that matched Horton’s version of events.

But then Kilborn said Horton did something he hadn’t told the court: that he “immediately left the store, and went to see Mr. Moses Seymour, jr. and had earnestly solicited him to purchased the Paper-Mill.” Seymour (1776–1824, shown above) was the head of the local Republicans.

Moses Seymour, Jr., himself wrote a letter published in the Witness on 24 February:

On the morning of Freeman’s meeting day in April 1804, Mr. Elisha Horton called on me (his feelings appearing to be much agitated) and requested me to purchase Mr. Deming’s paper mill, as he told me he wished for his own sake, that it might be shifted into other hands; that he could not, while in the employment of Mr. Deming, act on the republican side of politics; that he believed from what Mr. Deming had said, that he would discharge him from his employment provided he so acted, which would be a great damage to him as he had laid out considerable money in repairs, expecting to continue in his business; he said he dare not stay and vote that day; I told Mr. Horton he best knew what Mr. Deming had said to him; and if he believed his fears well founded, I could not advise him to stay and vote.

In that same issue, John Stone told the same story that Kilborn had. So did Amos Parmalee, Jr., who added:

On the day of the late trial for a libel on Esq. Deming, previous to the commencement of the trial, I saw Mr. Horton at Timothy Peck’s store. I observed to him that I was requested to attend this trial and testify what he (Horton) had confessed to me requesting Mr. Deming’s influencing his voting. He then requested me to step one side with him in private; which I did.—He then addressed me thus: “what I told you about Esq. Deming was a confidential matter—I expect the lawyers will question me whether Mr. Deming has influenced me; but I am not obliged to answer them.”

The clear implication of the letters in the Witness was that Horton had curtailed his political behavior and his honesty in order to stay in Julius Deming’s favor. Because Deming remained his boss.

TOMORROW: Horton’s community reputation.

“Vote for those you in conscience think to be good men”

On 29 Jan 1806, the Litchfield Monitor, the Connecticut town’s Federalist newspaper, published a long letter from papermaker Elisha Horton.

Horton had been called as a witness in the libel trial between local magistrate and merchant Julius Deming and the town’s other newspaper, the Witness. That Republican paper had accused Deming of intimidating voters.

Evidently, Horton hadn’t testified to his liking, or other people’s liking. His letter said:

The following is a simple state of facts, which I had recollected, and committed to writing, previous to giving in my evidence, at the late Court.—I had accidentally left the writing at home—and partly owing to a violent pain in my head, and partly to my being interrupted when giving in my testimony, I could not relate the same so fully to the Court as I could have wished.

June, 1802, if I mistake not, I took the charge of Mr. Julius Deming’s Paper-mill—and from that time until the fall of the year 1803, Mr. Deming had not opened his mouth to me upon politics.—Freemen’s meeting day [i.e., Election Day], I went in his Store, and observed to him thus:—Esq. Deming, I have come to vote this day, just as I did in old times,—I have seen no Nominations, or list of Candidates on either side, and shall vote for those I think to be good men, or best qualified for office.

Mr. Deming replied, “I never shall blame you for voting as you please; but hope you will be conscientious in voting, or vote for those you in conscience think to be good men.” . . .

During the winter [of 1804], many of both parties were inquisitive, to learn of me, on which side I should vote—I uniformly told them that I should not vote on either side—that I should not attend meeting.

In the spring of the year, Orin Stone, came to the mill, with a line as he said from M. S. jr. informing me, that I was appointed as one of their [the Republicans’] Committee, and wishing me to act accordingly.—I refused, desiring him to give my respects to Mr. S. and tell him I wished to be excused.

Other articles tell me “M. S. jr.” was local merchant Moses Seymour, Jr. (1774-1826). His father had been one of Litchfield’s Revolutionary leaders and was still serving as town clerk.

Freemen’s-meeting day arrived, and having little or no help in the mill, I concluded to go into town, and see Mr. Deming concerning a pair of Writing Moulds [frames for papermaking], which were expected on from Philadephia—…After conversing about them, and I was about to leave the store,—‘And shall you not stay to meeting?’ (said Mr. Deming.)—

No, replied I; I think not.

“Well, (said Mr. Deming) if you do stay and vote, I tell you now, as I told you the last year, vote for the men you in conscience think to be good men.”

I then, for the first time, introduced the subject of politicks to Mr. Deming, this: ‘Squire Deming, I am dissatisfied.

“At what?” (replied he)—

At certain principles which are prevailing among the democrats (said I)—

Mr. Deming seemed a little surprised, and said—“Why I am informed that you are one of their Committee.”

I answered, they have appointed me, but I have refused to act as one. I observed to Mr. Deming that I had voted several times on the Democratic side; as I was dissatisfied with some of the measures towards the close of Adams’s administration, but was now more dissatisfied with the democratically principles which are prevailing among us.

Mr. Deming observed,—“Mr. Horton, I have never said but a little to you upon politicks.”—

Not half so much as I wish you had, said I.—

Mr. Deming then observed to me,—that “there was something very alarming in the new order of things which designing men were endeavouring to introduce into this state;”—adding, that “he had formerly transacted business on a very large scale,” &c.—“that he had already lessened his business in a great measure;”—and concluded thus,—That should the State of Connecticut be revolutionized, he should still lessen his business, or give up all his business abroad, and retire to private life.

The same evening a report was circulated in the western part of this town (and perhaps in other places) that Mr. Deming had threatened me in a very pointed manner, that if I presumed to vote on the democratic side, he would immediately turn me out of his employ—Mr. Arunah Blakeslee called upon me the same evening to know the truth of the report: I denied it then,—I deny it now,—and shall deny it as long I live.

Blakeslee was from the west side of Litchfield. I can’t find anything else about him, so he doesn’t appear to have been prominent, just an interested voter.

TOMORROW: Contrary voices.

(The photograph above shows Julius Demings’s 1790s house as it looks today, courtesy of Dan Sterner’s handsome Historic Buildings of Connecticut.)

“An alledged libel against Julius Deming”

While researching the life of Elisha Horton, as I laid out yesterday, I came across newspaper articles about a local political controversy in the early 1800s.

The other main figure in this story is Julius Deming (1755–1838, shown here). Born in Lyme, Connecticut, Deming became a captain of cavalry under his cousin Col. Henry Champion and then, also under cousin Henry, an army commissary at Litchfield.

As the war ended, Deming remained in Litchfield and set himself up as a merchant. He married Dorothy Champion, cousin Henry’s daughter. (Another daughter was Deborah Champion, and I wrote about her legend back in 2014.)

For business Deming traveled to London, traded with China, and formed partnerships with prominent men like Benjamin Tallmadge and Oliver Wolcott. He grew richer. He became the local magistrate and served in some state and county offices, though his family understood him not to enjoy politics. (This story suggests he had strong feelings about politics nonetheless.)

Among the businesses Deming invested in was a paper mill, where he hired Elisha Horton as his manager. One source tells me Horton started work at the Litchfield paper mill in the early 1790s, the other that he started work for Deming in the early 1800s. Maybe there were two mills, or maybe Deming bought a mill where Horton was already working for the previous owner.

The 1790s and 1800s of course saw the rise of party politics in the U.S. of A. New England Federalists like Julius Deming were shocked when Thomas Jefferson won the Presidency in 1800 and his allies made inroads in their region. Litchfield had two newspapers keeping an eye on each other: the Litchfield Monitor (Federalist) and the Witness (Republican).

By September 1805, if not before, Deming was in a feud with Selleck Osborn (1783–1826), the young publisher of the Witness. There was a dispute over coverage of a lawsuit involving Tallmadge and Wolcott. Then on 9 October the Witness published an article headlined “Reign of Terror” reporting that on the recent Election Day Deming had tried to intimidate a Republican voter.

On 11 December the Witness’s last piece of local news, festooned with a pointing hand, was:

Yesterday the Editor and Printer of the WITNESS, were indicted by the State’s attorney, for an alledged libel against Julius Deming, Esq.

That case hinged on Deming’s political methods. And when it went to court, a key witness was Elisha Horton.

TOMORROW: What Elisha Horton wanted to say.