Philly’s Edward Middleton — His Will and His Way

It is supremely ironic to me that Edward Penton Middleton would have by far the largest monument, one apparently carrying his bust, in the Presbyterian Church Cemetery of Blackwood, New Jersey, given the strong prohibitionary stance of the denomination.  Middleton, you see, was an extremely wealthy man whose major source of funds had come by selling whiskey and other alcoholic beverages.  This memorial and other unforeseen outcomes were all part of Middleton’s strong will and having his way.

Edward Middleton was born in New Jersey, outside Philadelphia, circa 1820 (records differ) at a time when Christianity was beginning to experience a sharp divergency among Christian denominations on the subject of alcohol.  Catholics, Episcopalians, and Lutherans were considered “wet;”  Methodists, Evangelicals, and Middleton’s family church, Presbyterian, decidedly “dry.” 

Living in the village of Blackwood, the Middletons, however, were in the business of serving liquor.  Edward’s father owned a tavern in the village center, the oldest building in town.  A series of previous owners had failed to make it prosperous but when a relative of the Middletons established a stage coach route from Camden to the small town, the family’s “public house” prospered.  Edward Middleton’s early years were spent there.  Sometime after receiving an elementary education, he moved the fifteen miles to Philadelphia.

My speculation is that Middleton was employed there in one of the city’s liquor houses. By 1843 when he would have been in his early twenties, he opened a whiskey business of his own.  In this endeavor he had the help of a younger brother, George.   Likely blenders of whiskeys obtained from the many distilleries that dotted the Pennyslvania landscape, the brothers, as advertised above, also featured imported wines and brandies.

In more recent times E. P. Middleton & Bro. has become known because of the highly sought applied seal glass bottles in which the company packaged its liquor.  This method of embossed labeling had originated in Europe in the 17th Century, brought to the U.S. and employed by glassworks into the 1800s. 

When a whiskey bottle had been finished and was just beginning to cool, a hot glob of glass was carefully placed on the container, usually on the shoulder or high on the side where it could easily be seen.  A worker then used a special tool to flatten the molten glass that would be inscribed with words and/or sometimes a symbol.  This produced a seal now permanently attached to the bottle, the removal of which would damage the entire vessel.  Such bottles are referred to as slab seals or applied seals and are highly prized by collectors.  Shown here are several examples from the Middleton company, ranging in color from a light amber to a dark green.  

Shown here is what I take to be an early Middleton bottle.  It carried a seal that bore the message “E. P. Middleton Wheat Whiskey” and the date.  The date is notable because the “2” in 1825 was embossed backward.  Other seals indicate that error was not repeated by the glasshouse.  The date “1825” is something of  mystery.  Middleton would only have been about five years old that year and hardly the proprietor of a liquor house.  My guess is that he set up in the liquor trade by buying an existing Philadelphia business that traced its origins back to that date.

For more than twenty years the Middletons ran a highly profitable liquor establishment in Philadelphia.  In 1864, however, Edward and his brother parted ways. The reasons for the split are unclear.  The elder brother possibly was dictating the way the liquor house would operate;  the younger brother may have had other ideas.  The separation was far from amicable.  Witnesses later would testify that the brothers not only argued but that George Middleton had threatened Edward with “personal violence” and the two had become permanently estranged.  George set up a liquor store of his own in direct competition with his brother and operated it until at least 1886.

After the split, Edward Middleton lived only another five years, his residences a series of boarding houses and hotels like the La Pierre House, shown here.  He sickened in May, 1869, and died early in April.  By the time of his death he had, as one observer put it, “amassed great wealth.”  My estimate, based on court documents, is that he was worth in today’s dollar roughly $16 million — most of it money made from his liquor sales.

Edward had never married and if he had died intestate his fortune would have been divided equally among his surviving three brothers and three sisters, each of whom might have expected a sixth of the fortune.  But Middleton had made a will, kept in a safety deposit box at a local bank.  In court a bank executive testified that Edward had anticipated that his will would be controversial, telling him that the document would cause “a high old time after my death.”  In it Middleton gave substantial but not whopping amounts to five sisters and brothers.  George got nary a cent.  By far the largest bequest, equivalent today to roughly $10 million, went to a nephew, Charles D. Middleton, a paper hanger by occupation.

George Middleton, backed by other siblings, upon the reading of Edward’s last will and testament immediately hollered fraud.  A jury trial ensued in Federal Court that lasted the greater part of five weeks as dozens of witnesses were heard.  One testified to Edward Middleton’s special affection for his nephew, pointing out that he had paid for Charles’ support and education after the boy’s mother and father died, had financed his paper hanging business, and considered Charles “the only man in the family who took care of himself.”  After a lengthy instruction from the judge, the jury retired but quickly brought its verdict:  The will was legitimate.  

Made a rich man overnight, Charles exited paper hanging.  The 1880 census gave the 42-year old heir’s occupation as “gentleman,” i.e. no longer needing to work for a living.  Charles now was living in a large home on Limekiln Pike in Philadelphia.  In addition to his wife and two children, his household included his mother, mother-in-law, and four live-in servants, including a chambermaid, cook, gardener and coachman.  Charles, as Uncle Edward had anticipated, knew how to take care of himself.

Middleton also gave the equivalent of $23,000 each to the Presbyterian and Methodist churches of Blackwood, the latter shown here.  As the liquor dealer likely anticipated, neither congregation turned the money back as the profits of the hated liquor trade. 

Moreover, Middleton was buried in the Presbyterian church yard where, as one observer noted, “a very elegant and costly monument was erected to his memory and a marble tomb placed over his grave.”  Of late not neatly kept, Middleton’s grave, shown here, is by far the largest memorial in the church cemetery.  Onlookers can peer into a recess in the massive pillar to see the bust of Edward Middleton, gazing serenely over the countryside.  He had established his will and had his way.

Note:   Although the material for this post was gathered from multiple sources, a principal document was a summary of the challenge to Middleton’s will in U.S. Circuit Court— a case called Otterson v. Middleton,  decided December 15, 1871.