General Richard Montgomery and the American Revolution. Hal T. Shelton
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title of son, should I be so fortunate as to deserve it.”7
While his prospective father-in-law deliberated over the request for marriage, Montgomery’s social status and former service in the British army were probably areas of some concern. When the patriarch of the Livingston dynasty, Robert Livingston, died in 1728, he divided his vast estate between two of his sons. The elder son, Philip Livingston, received the bulk of the property (about 141,000 acres), known as Livingston Manor. The younger son, Robert Livingston, Jr. (Janet’s grandfather), inherited the adjacent Clermont estate of 13,000 acres. Consequently, the two Livingston branches at Livingston Manor and Clermont constituted one of the largest land-owning families in New York.8
Influence accompanied the affluence of this family, which cooperated in achieving political ascendancy of the province. Judge Robert R. Livingston (of Clermont), Janet’s father, took an active part in colonial affairs. He served as a colonel in the militia, functioned for a time as high sheriff of New York, and represented Dutchess County in the General Assembly from 1757 to 1768. He attained appointment as Judge of the King’s Bench in 1763, which operated as the New York supreme court of those times. In 1765, he attended the Stamp Act Congress as a delegate from Dutchess County. During 1772, he acted as chairman of the New York Committee of Correspondence, part of a network to coordinate colonial vigilance against the British. When New Yorkers divided over the question of remaining loyal to the king, Judge Livingston emerged as a recognized leader of the whig or patriot faction.9
The fact that he had earlier resigned his commission and elected to live in the colonies probably exonerated Montgomery from his British affiliation in Judge Livingston’s mind. Montgomery’s prior association with Whig leaders in Parliament—Edmund Burke, Isaac Barré, Charles James Fox, and other opposition politicians sympathetic with the American colonists—must have enhanced his acceptability with the Livingstons. After family consultations and investigation into Montgomery’s character and reputation, Judge Livingston replied to his future son-in-law on June 21, 1773: “Since we heard of your intentions, solicitous for our daughter’s happiness, we have made such inquiries as have given a great deal of satisfaction. We both approve of your proposal and heartily wish your union may yield you all the happiness you seem to expect, to which we shall always be ready to contribute all in our power.”10
With the formalities completed for his marriage, Montgomery became concerned over how the local press would announce the event. Anti-imperialist fervor of that time disdained any trappings of royalty. Montgomery’s sister, Sarah, had married an Irish viscount, Charles, Lord Ranelagh. The peerage was the only inheritance that befell Ranelagh, as he became strapped to support his large family. This was probably all the more reason for the despoiled lord to cling to his nobility, trying to bolster his familial pride and honor. Montgomery had no desire to be linked publicly to his titled relatives in Ireland during his present circumstances. He felt that it would only subject him to possible embarrassment. just before his wedding day, Montgomery expressed a hope that the journalists would “let me down easy” by not advertising the royal inference. To his chagrin, a New York City newspaper pronounced: “Last Thursday evening was married at the Manor of Livingston, Richard Montgomery, Esq., brother to the Right Hon. the Countess of Ranelagh, to Miss. Livingston, eldest daughter of the Hon. Robert R. Livingston, Esq.; one of the Judges of the supreme court of judicature, a lady of fine understanding, and very amiable accomplishments.”11
The wedding announcement became a subject of some good-natured humor directed at Montgomery by the Livingstons. Like most of the privileged social group in the colonies, the Livingston family embraced the idea of a natural elite, but they were careful not to portray themselves as aristocrats or noblemen. The colonies were evolving toward a culture that fancied the concept of the self-made person, apart from the European tradition of relying on bloodlines to determine social status. Although adhering to deferential values, the prosperous and influential segment of the population had no wish to become a catalyst for class struggle by callously flaunting its social position.12
Thus, on July 24, 1773, Richard Montgomery and Janet Livingston married at Clermont with most of the Livingston family present for the ceremony. Richard leased his farm at King’s Bridge to a tenant, and the Montgomerys established their residence in a small house at Rhinebeck where Janet owned property. With most of his remaining funds, Richard purchased more land adjoining Janet’s tract. He then set to work fencing the pasture, plowing the fields, building a small grain mill, and laying the foundation for a larger home. Janet’s sister, Catharine, formed a favorable opinion of Richard during this time, but she also noted his bouts of melancholy brought on by fears that his contentment was too good to last: “Mrs. [Catharine Livingston] Garretson, who sometimes came to stay with her eldest sister at the cottage, had ample opportunity of knowing this brother. She spoke of the influence of his manly character upon the villagers, of his grave rebuke of idleness and vice and of his many amiable domestic virtues. . . . He was so happy in his domestic relations that forebodings would sometimes arise and he would exclaim, ‘I never was so happy in all my life; everything conspires to make it so,’ then shaking his head sadly he would say, ‘This cannot last; it cannot last.’”13
Janet told of a strange and frightening dream that she had three months after their marriage. In it, Montgomery and his brother engaged in a fierce duel, and Richard sustained a mortal wound. Upon awakening and relating the vision to her husband, he said, “I have always told you that my happiness is not lasting. . . . Let us enjoy it as long as we may and leave the rest to God.”14
Although both were basically fatalists, the personal philosophies of the Montgomerys differed somewhat. While Richard seemed to accept fate with little reservation, Janet tended to agonize more over their destiny and turned to her husband for reassurance. Although Richard had forsaken his army career, the lingering mental attitudes formed by years of service were not as easily shed. His military background probably conditioned him for a direct, confrontational approach to life’s problems. This professional soldier’s mindset prevented him from dwelling upon matters that he deemed beyond human control. On the other hand, Janet’s thinking reflected the cultural role of privileged women of that era. Society accustomed women of leisure to a seemingly gentle, passive existence in which demure ladies attained their goals through indirect means. With this feeling of being limited in personally directing their lives, many of these women tended to brooding reflection of their perplexities.
Ominous perceptions, however, could not spoil the marital bliss that the Montgomery newly weds enjoyed. The Livingstons welcomed Richard into their family, and he emerged as an industrious and faithful husband who cherished his quiet, rural life. Janet readily accepted her position as a devoted and dutiful wife.
Still, the couple experienced some areas of contention. Janet, for instance, wanted to have a child, particularly a son, as soon as possible. However, Richard did not share her enthusiasm. He chided her by saying, “Be contented, Janet. Suppose we had a son, and he was a fool. Think of that!” As in most other matters, Janet deferred to her husband’s judgment.15
In a letter written in late 1774 to Perkins Magra—friend of both Richard and Janet, and an officer who had served with Montgomery in his previous British regiment—Montgomery admitted to nostalgia about his former comrades: “There are some in the corps [17th Regiment] for whom I entertain a more cordial regard than I shall probably ever feel again for any of my fellow creatures.” The newly established country squire then turned to a description of his present life, writing with zeal and pride about the improvements he had initiated on his small estate: “ ‘Tis a pity you can’t come help me plan a house which I shall lay the foundation of this fall. My mill is almost finished.” He also confirmed his contentment in his current existence: “Your suspicions touching my hobby horse are not well founded. I rode a skittish nag for fifteen years. A country life is the only recourse of disappointed ambition, to have something to do the surest means of procuring good spirits and comfortable feelings.” The retired soldier closed his letter with a fateful remark: “I begin to think I shan’t die by a pistol.”16
By 1775, emerging events surrounding increasingly antagonistic relations between the colonies and England interrupted the tranquil life of the Montgomerys. The practice of maintaining unwanted