John Sullivan and the Capture of the Powder at Newcastle.
The province of New Hampshire was among the first to resist the unjust exactions of the British government, and, on the authority of one of the Royal Councillors, her sons were the very first to commit an overt act against it. From the time of its early settlement, under the proprietorship of Capt. John Mason, her sturdy colonists were bound to appropriate to their own use the first fruits of their labors, and, regardless of act of parliament or magisterial edict, they were able to accomplish their purpose. Owing to the civil dissensions in England between 1640 and 1700, the little band of adventurers who had established themselves at “Old Strawberry Bank,” as well as their descendants who came after them, were practically, so far as the home government was concerned, left to their own resources, and obliged to defend themselves as best they could against the French and Indians, who were ever on the alert to harass and annoy them. The establishment of William of Orange on the English throne, and the complete subjugation of those who supported the unfortunate James, changed matters, however, and gave the new ruler an opportunity to bestow a little of his paternal care on the colonists who had so long prospered greatly without it.
One of his very first acts was to appoint, as governor of New York, the Earl of Bellmont, who was a native of Ireland, and a son of Sir Charles Coote, who earned an Irish estate fighting for Cromwell.
Under his administration the heirs of Captain Mason, fortified by a proclamation from the king and parliament, endeavored to establish their ownership to the property left them in New Hampshire, and, although not authorized by the act mentioned to collect arrearages of rent from the descendants of the original settlers, little progress was made in the collection of any. The men, and the children of the men who had for half a century contested every inch of New Hampshire soil with the elements, the wild beasts, the Indians, and their white allies from Quebec, did not propose to pay tribute to the grandchildren of the man whose name was but a tradition. The result was the creation of a period in the records of New Hampshire, whose history reads strangely like a page from Ireland’s annals describing landlord rule.
For in all parts of the province, and among all classes of people, the most determined efforts were made to prevent the impositions of the new proprietors. The sheriff and his officers, while engaged in the performance of their duties, were often confronted with the axe and the musket, and when opportunity offered, the women took a hand and tested the efficacy of hot water. The sacred person of the governor even was not exempt from insult and assault, for on at least one occasion, while endeavoring to shield Captain Mason, the grandson of the original proprietor, from one of his irate tenants, he was thrown into the fireplace on the burning coals, sat upon, three of his ribs broken, two teeth knocked out, and his body severely burned.
William Vaughan, one of the Royal Councillors, and among the most influential men in the colony, for an assault upon one of the officers of the king, was arrested, and for several years kept in confinement.
The records of the province during this period, as printed in the state papers, make very interesting reading. The little rock-ribbed province was the northern picket line of New England, and in consequence her sons were equally expert with the musket, the axe, and the spade.
That these traits had been transmitted to their descendants is very clear, for the construction of the grapevine bridge across the Chickahominy in 1862, by the boys of the 5th New Hampshire, as well as the record made by the same regiment during the Civil War, is the evidence; the axe, the spade, and the rifle figuring in both, as they had in the hands of their ancestors at Bunker Hill and Bennington nearly a century before. But the demands of Captain Mason were not the only grievances. The government was bound to suppress any industry in the colonies which would in any way interfere with those already in operation at home. An elaborate project had been already planned by the Earl of Bellmont, for the production of tar and pitch in New Hampshire.
The home government was paying Denmark one hundred thousand pounds annually for these two articles. Both could, with a little perseverance and care, be produced on this side of the water, and be paid for, not in cash, but in the products of the English mills and shops, and in this manner saving the money and finding a new market for goods.
To this end, pine trees were selected and stripped, but before the scheme had matured, and the first step taken, the wicked New Hampshire men set fire to the trees, and this, with the Indian troubles, which were endless, put an end to the tar and pitch arrangement. This was not all they did, however. The governor claimed that not only did these lawless men of “Old Strawberry Bank” cut down the king’s timber which had been reserved for the Royal Navy, but that they had sawn it up into deals, and actually sold it to the enemies of the government, in the French and Spanish West Indies; and that no less a person than the Lieutenant-Governor of New Hampshire was engaged in the business, and not only engaged in it, but had boasted of his profits, and thus incited others to go and do likewise. He next tried to introduce the cultivation of flax, but this was a failure, labor costing three times here what it would in Ireland. This paternal care of the government continued under William’s successors. In 1749 an act of parliament, while encouraging the production of pig and bar iron, absolutely forbade its manufacture, and to carry its terms into effect, proclamation was made by the provincial sheriffs, and an inquiry as to the number of mills and forges in the province was instituted by the governor, to the end that steps might be taken to have them discontinued. With such an experience as this extending over three-quarters of a century, the people of New Hampshire were not only in sympathy with their fellow-countrymen in the other colonies, but stood ready as well to coöperate in any movement having for its object the welfare of the people as against the government.
THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH
Newark, N. J.
ROBERT ELLIS THOMPSON
Philadelphia, Pa.
FRANCIS C. TRAVERS
New York City
T. RUSSELL SULLIVAN
Boston, Mass.
EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE
At a meeting held in Portsmouth on Dec. 16, 1773, one of the resolutions adopted was, “That every virtuous and public-spirited freeman ought to oppose, to the utmost of his ability, every attack of the ministry to enslave the Americans.” Five months later, on May 19, 1774, a committee of the town of Portsmouth sent their sympathies to the people of Boston on the closing of their port, and for their fellow-townsmen, promised to exert themselves to carry into effect any plan which might be concerted by the colonies for the general relief, and that the interests of the people of Boston would be considered as their own.
From this time to the departure of the royal governor forever, it was a game of battledoor and shuttlecock between his excellency and the general assembly; the latter energetic and firm; the former diplomatic, but cautious and watchful, and ever on the alert to subserve the interest of the home government.
To this end he refused at first to adjourn the assembly in May, 1774, but finally acceded to the request of the members, and an adjournment was made to June 12 of the same year. Meantime the excitement increased; events at home and abroad intensifying the feeling against the government.
At the adjourned meeting in May, the House of Representatives, in common with the assemblies of the other colonies, had appointed a committee of correspondence. This Governor Wentworth tried to prevent, and when he dissolved the assembly he was fain to believe the committee of correspondence would disappear with it.
In this he was disappointed, for its very first act after the dissolution of the assembly was to issue a summons to the representatives, who again met in their own chamber. The governor, attended by the sheriff of the county, entered, and in accordance with custom they rose when he presented himself. He addressed them, declaring the meeting illegal, and directed the sheriff to make proclamation accordingly, ordering all to disperse. He then retired, but they resumed their seats.
On further consideration they adjourned to another house, where it was resolved to hold a convention at Exeter, which should choose delegates to the General Congress to meet in Philadelphia, and to that end, letters were sent to each town and parish in the colony, inviting the people therein to send deputies to the Provincial Congress. The last business transacted by the representatives was to recommend a day of fasting and prayer to be observed by the people of the province. According to Belknap, this was observed with religious solemnity. A request was made at the same time for funds to defray the expenses of the delegates to the Continental Congress, and this was promptly responded to.
The convention called at Exeter assembled on July 21, 1774, and is now known in history as the “First Provincial Congress” of New Hampshire. There were eighty-five members present, with the speaker of the assembly, Hon. John Wentworth, a relative of the governor in the chair.
This distinguished body, composed of the best men in the province, many of whom had seen service in the French and Indian wars, and who can justly be styled the founders of the state, chose for their first representatives to the Continental Congress Maj. John Sullivan and Col. Nathaniel Folsom; and for the first time in the history of his native state does the name of John Sullivan officially make its appearance in its legislative records. It is evident to any one who has read closely the history of the stirring events of the period that some master hand was at work directing all the movements, civil and military, occurring at the time; and that this was the hand of John Sullivan later events prove clearly. The son of an Irish exile, and the grandson of one of the ill-fated defenders of Limerick, he was born in Somersworth, N. H., at a point opposite Berwick, Me., on February 18, 1740.
He was educated by his father, who had himself enjoyed the benefits of a liberal and thorough training before he settled in America, and who, through a long life, extending to his one hundred and fifth year, was diligently employed in the education of youth. After a voyage to the West Indies he became a member of the family of Hon. Isaac Livermore, a lawyer of Portsmouth having an extensive practice, and under his instruction prepared himself for his profession. He early exhibited ability of a high order, gained the respect and encouragement of his instructor, and soon acquired a distinguished position at the bar of New Hampshire. Just before reaching his majority he located in the town of Durham, purchased a handsome residence, which is still in existence, and in which he lived up to the time of his death. Such was his professional success, that he married at the age of twenty, and for ten years later he was constantly employed in the most lucrative causes, thereby incurring the resentment of sundry persons in Durham and elsewhere, who petitioned the executive council in 1766, complaining of him for evil practices as attorney-at-law. This trouble, whatever its nature may have been, existed even to the end of his days, and was doubtless at the bottom of the scheme to injure his reputation years after his death; for to this day there are some who would rob him of the credit given him in the state records for planning the capture of the powder at Newcastle and leading the party that effected it.
In eloquence as an advocate he won a place in the front rank, and earned the reputation of being a sound lawyer and a judicious counsellor. This character was not confined to his native state, for in addition to the friendship of men like the Wentworths and Langdons in New Hampshire, he had secured the esteem and respect of Lowell, Adams, Otis, and other well-known legal lights in Massachusetts. Although attached to his profession, he found time to devote to agriculture and manufactures, being one of the early promoters of the latter, establishing cloth and fulling mills in Durham, and succeeding so well that on the authority of John Adams he was worth ten thousand pounds before the Revolution broke out. From his father and mother he inherited a robust constitution, and was blessed with an active, lively disposition. He had a natural taste for military life, but except an occasional bout with the Indians, generally on the defensive, he had, before the Revolutionary War, no actual experience in warfare; but all around him were the veterans of the Indian and French wars, whose descriptions of the campaigns of Louisburg and Quebec aroused all the martial spirit in his fiery nature.
To his historical studies, especially those relating to military movements, he was greatly devoted; and read them to such good purpose that he was able accurately to describe nearly all of the great battles of the world. It was natural, therefore, for him to seek the exercise of arms early; so at the age of thirty-one he held the commission of major in the Colonial militia, and spared no pains to make himself familiar with the duties connected with the position. From the first rumble of discontent, down to the actual outbreak of hostilities, he was one of the most active men engaged in the cause of liberty. His nature and his abhorrence of oppression, two traits transmitted by generations of heroic ancestors, marked his career from the beginning, and his extended influence and popularity marked him early as a leader in the coming contest. With a full realization of what was before him he organized a company numbering eighty-three men in Durham, and associated with him was the gallant young Scammell, who was then a law student in his office. With a knowledge of these facts it is not too much to say, especially when comparing them with the events occurring afterwards, that the “hidden hand” which directed the movements of the patriots in New Hampshire, down to the convening of the First Provincial Congress in July, 1774, was that of the grandson of the Limerick soldier, who, in little less than a century from the broken treaty, was paying with interest the debt due the government which had driven his father to the wilds of America. He was chosen by the First Provincial Congress to represent his province in the Continental Congress, being the first person to represent New Hampshire in that body. Two instances will be sufficient to show his energy and usefulness in that assemblage. On qualifying, he was at once placed on two of the most important committees, of one of which, that upon the grievances of the people, he was chairman.
“The committee of violation of rights,” says John Adams in his diary, “reported a set of articles which were drawn by John Sullivan, of New Hampshire; and these two declarations, the one of rights and the other of violations, which are printed in the journals of Congress for 1774, were two years afterwards recapitulated in the Declaration of Independence on the 4th of July, 1776.”
“New Hampshire has perhaps not remembered that the bold hand and the legal training of John Sullivan are in the immortal Declaration of Independence.”
On the adjournment of Congress, Sullivan returned to New Hampshire. During his absence the agitation had increased; nearly every town had its committee of safety, and many persons of note, suspected of a leaning towards the government, placed under arrest and kept in confinement, or sent out of the state, unless they took the test oath prescribed by the Assembly. Steps were also taken to prevent the sending of carpenters and other mechanics to Boston to build barracks for the royal troops, as men could not be secured there for that purpose. In one instance a man suspected of procuring workmen for General Gage, was waited on, and the charge being proven, he was obliged to go on his knees, as nothing less would be satisfactory, and make the following confession and promise:
“Before this company I confess I have been aiding and assisting in sending men to Boston to build barracks for the soldiers to live in, at which you have reason to be justly offended, which I am sorry for and humbly ask your forgiveness. And I do affirm that for the future I never will be aiding or assisting in any wise whatever, in act or deed contrary to the constitution of the country, as witness my hand.”
The military stores in Fort William and Mary at Newcastle were a constant source of anxiety to the governor, but he felt confident that no lawless act would be committed by the people without provocation, and as he was cautious in his course, no pretext could be found in that direction, but the inevitable was to happen. A report was circulated that General Gage was to send a body of troops to secure the ammunition.
The arrival of Paul Revere from Boston gave color to the rumor, and on the day following, armed men from the surrounding towns assembled in Portsmouth, and after effecting an organization and choosing their leaders, marched in broad daylight, to the number of four hundred, for Newcastle. On arriving at the fort the commander bade them to enter at their peril. No heed being paid to his words, one volley was fired from the three-pounders in position, but before the guns could be reloaded the walls were scaled and the fort captured at three o’clock P.M. on Dec. 14, 1774. The result was the possession of one hundred barrels of powder, sixty muskets, sixteen cannon, and other valuable stores.
In his letter to General Gage informing him of the event, Governor Wentworth said, “The principal persons in this enormity are well known.”
He mentioned no names, but a little over two years later Peter Livius, who was at the time of the capture, one of the Provincial Councillors, wrote thus to John Sullivan in June, 1777: “You were the first man in active rebellion, and drew with you the province you live in. You will be one of the first sacrifices to the resentment and justice of government; your family will be ruined and you must die with ignominy.”
Belknap wrote that “Maj. John Sullivan and John Langdon distinguished themselves as leaders in this affair.” Adams, in his annals of Portsmouth, said it occurred “under the direction of Maj. John Sullivan and Capt. John Langdon.”
Sullivan himself said: “When I returned from Congress in 1774, and saw the order of the British king and council prohibiting military stores being sent to this country, I took alarm, clearly perceiving the designs of the British ministry, and wrote several pieces upon the necessity of securing military stores, which pieces were published in several papers.” Quint said: “Sullivan, bold and daring, then an active member of the Continental Congress, and well known throughout the province by his leadership at the bar, had great influence. The seizure of the munitions at the fort, though sudden at last, was doubtless not without previous thought. The result of this act was momentous. It was the first act of armed rebellion. It preceded Concord and Lexington by four months of time. The captors of the fort entered it against the fire of fieldpieces and muskets openly, and in daylight they pulled down the royal flag, the first time in American history. They gave three cheers in honor of their success. They carried off a hundred barrels of gunpowder, some light guns and small arms which, under the care of Sullivan, were taken up the river, which was at that time covered with thick ice, through which a channel had to be cut.”
This bold and audacious act was deeply felt in Great Britain. Conciliation was now out of the question. The king’s anger was aroused. It was already bitter enough on account of the Massachusetts troubles. Governor Wentworth issued threatening proclamations.
He dismissed the offending major and captain from their posts in the militia. In answer to his edict all persons in Durham holding civil or military positions under the governor, headed by Sullivan, assembled at the tavern on the green, and there publicly burned their commissions and insignia of office. There was no further need of secrecy. The die was cast and the leaders were well known. The official positions, civil or military, held by many of those who were principals in the affair, obliged them, up to this time, to act with caution. After the burning, not of his ships, but of his commission, Sullivan boldly stepped to the front. The very next day after the capture of the powder he headed a body of men numbering between three and four hundred from Durham and the adjoining towns, and, marching to the Council Chamber, demanded an answer to the question as to whether or not there were any ships or troops expected here, or if the governor had written for any.
His excellency meekly answered: “I know of none.”
The greater part of the powder was stored in the basement of the meeting-house in Durham. The balance, for safety, was distributed in several places, some of it going to Exeter. That stored at Durham, as well as another portion placed with Capt. John Demerritt, was taken by the latter in his own ox-cart, under Sullivan’s direction, to Cambridge, where it arrived barely in time to be dealt out to the troops at Bunker Hill. Of how much value it was there and how badly it was needed, is too well known to bear repetition. Without it and lacking the men from the old Granite State accompanying it, Bunker Hill would not have been such a serious affair for the British army.
In claiming the leadership for Sullivan in this affair there is no desire to extol him at the expense of those with whom he was associated,—men like Langdon, Weare, Bartlett, Thornton, Scammell, Thompson, Folsom, Wentworth, Gilman, and others whose names are now household words. The position was freely conceded by them at the time, and acknowledged by the best informed to-day. After the Lexington fight, and while Sullivan was in attendance at the Second Continental Congress, the gallant young Scammell, who was in his office in Durham, wrote him that, “when the horrid din of civil carnage surprised us on the 20th of April, the universal cry was ‘Oh, if Major Sullivan was here!’ ‘I wish to God Major Sullivan was here!’ ran through the distressed multitude.”
Capt. Eleazer Bennett, who died in Durham in 1852, at the age of one hundred and one, said “that at the time of the capture of the powder he was in the employment of General Sullivan, at his mill at Packer’s Falls, when word was brought in to come down to Durham, to go to Portsmouth, and to get anybody else he could to come with him.” So far as he could remember, the following persons were with him: Maj. John Sullivan, Capt. Winborn Adams, Ebenezer Thompson, John Demerritt, Alpheus and Jonathan Chesley, John Spencer, Micah Davis, Isaac and Benjamin Small, Alexander Scammell, John Griffin, James Underwood, and Eben Sullivan, the major’s brother.
On arriving at Portsmouth they were joined by John Langdon with another party. They captured the fort, took the captain and bound him, and frightened away the soldiers. In the fort they found one hundred casks of powder and one hundred small arms. A portion of the powder was taken by Major Demerritt to his house in Madbury, but most of it was stored under the pulpit of the meeting-house in Durham. On July 19, 1775, as a final proof of Sullivan’s leadership in this movement, Matthew Patten, chairman of the committee of safety for the county of Hillsborough, wrote to General Sullivan congratulating him on his appointment to the rank of Brigadier-General, in which he said: “An appointment which, as it distinguishes your merit, so at the same time it reflects honor upon, and shows the penetrating discernment of those truly eminent patriots from whom you received it; nor are we less sanguine in our expectations of the high advantages which must result under God to the public by your military skill and courage, as you have been indefatigable in attaining the first, and have given a recent instance of the latter, to your great honor and reputation, in depriving our enemies of the means of annoying us at Castle William and Mary, and at the same time furnishing us with materials to defend our invaluable rights and privileges. This, sir, must ever be had in remembrance, and (amongst the actions of others, our heroes of 1775) handed to the latest posterity. That the Almighty may direct your counsels, be with you in the day of battle, and that you may be preserved as a pattern to this people for many years to come, is our frequent prayer.” In Sullivan’s reply he said: “It gives me great pleasure to find so respectable a number of the worthy sons of freedom, in the colony to which I belong, have so publicly given their approbation of my conduct in assisting to secure the warlike stores at Fort William and Mary, and thereby preventing these evils which must have resulted from our enemies having possession of them.”
Nothing further need be said regarding the value of the powder captured on this occasion, or the boldness of the act itself. At Lexington and Concord the British were the aggressors, the Americans acting on the defensive; but at Newcastle the Americans were the aggressors, made the attack boldly in the open day, and as Quint said, “for the first time in American history the British flag was torn down by men in armed rebellion.” John Sullivan’s history is well known. He and his three brothers gave their best services to the land of their birth, and in memory of those services the state of New Hampshire erected a monument of Concord granite on the site of the church in Durham, under which was stored the powder, and in the presence of the governor, council, and other officials, state and national, and a large concourse of people on Thursday, Sept. 27, 1894, the one hundredth anniversary of his death, dedicated it with appropriate exercises. The inscription reads:
IN MEMORY OF
JOHN SULLIVAN.
Born Feb. 17, 1740.
Died Jan. 23, 1795.
Erected by the State of New Hampshire upon the
site of the Meeting-house under which was
stored the gunpowder taken from
Fort William and Mary.
The tributes paid to Sullivan’s worth on this occasion by every one of the speakers were ungrudging and hearty. Professor Murkland said: “This may never become a large community, but it will always be exalted by its association with John Sullivan, lawyer, soldier, statesman, and judge.
“The plain granite shaft, inadequate as it may appear, will yet serve, when we shall have been forgotten, to recall the life of one who served his country so bravely and so well that he made slander dumb and malice impotent.”
Gov. John B. Smith said: “It is no invidious distinction to say that of all the New Hampshire men of the Revolutionary period Sullivan was not only peer, he was preëminently chief. His life is a part of the country’s history, and now, by virtue of my office (an office I am all the more proud to hold because John Sullivan filled and honored it), I accept these grounds from the town of Durham, and this monument from the committee in behalf of the state.”
O’Meara said:
“Your deeds for all the land that hold your fame
Shall link you now to love New Hampshire’s name,
While throbs high manhood round her glistening hills—
While patriot gleam or pristine glory thrills.”
Dr. Quint said: “To John Sullivan, the man who in all the American provinces was the first to take up arms against the king, New Hampshire erects this monument of native granite.”
Professor Hadley said: “Washington’s never-failing trust and ever-affectionate respect are of themselves sufficient to prove their possessor’s title clear to proud historic praise; and Sullivan’s name does belong of right to that choice list of eminent commanders which bears such other names as Greene and Knox, Steuben and Stark.”
Senator Chandler said: “John Sullivan was one of the finest characters of the Revolution. A great general, and as a lawyer, a legislator, a statesman, a governor, and a judge, ranked among the very greatest men of the Revolutionary period. The luster in our annals of the gift to our early glories, bestowed by Ireland in sending to us the family of Sullivan, will never be obliterated or forgotten.”
Senator Blair said: “There is no sphere of public life in which he was not eminent, nor of private life in which he was not influential and beloved. The whole list of Revolutionary worthies does not furnish one name which, on the whole, shines more resplendently in all the great department of public service than that of John Sullivan.”
Hon. Henry M. Baker said: “The influence of such a life never dies. Seldom is it the fortune of any one to serve his country in such diverse yet responsible positions as General Sullivan held and honored. Still more rare to discharge every duty with such great energy and ability.”
Gov. Frederick Smythe said: “Wherever the rights of man are recognized, and so long as government by the people shall endure, the name of John Sullivan must be one of the imperishable, of those who were not born to die.”
Col. Daniel Hall said: “Sullivan is worthy of lasting commemoration as one of the most serviceable of the men it was New Hampshire’s great honor to contribute to the cause of American Independence.”
Secretary of State Stearns wrote: “Sullivan was a born leader of men, and preëminently a man for Revolutionary times. He was not a slave to ancient forms and customs, ruthlessly trampling upon the traditions of his time. He boldly assaulted the conservative barriers that confined the people of New Hampshire within the pale of accustomed usage.
“He early declared for a free government for a free people. In the march of events, when the people reached his early standpoint, the Constitution of 1776 was drafted on the line of his suggestions.”
“It is a century since the life of Sullivan was ended, and the qualities of his character and the magnitude of his work were submitted to the generous estimate of his fellow-men. His fame with the lapse of time suffers no impairment. A brilliant and an accomplished civilian, a distinguished lawyer, a matchless orator, a brave and an able general, a senator, a magistrate, and a governor, he bore his accumulating honors with modesty, and served the state which he loved with the restless power of a vigorous and versatile mind. The study of his life is instructive. Through the vista, obscured by a century, we read the story of his time in the light of the undimmed luster of his achievements.”
REV. GEORGE W. PEPPER
Ohio
VERY REV. ANDREW MORRISSEY
Indiana
COL. O’BRIEN MOORE
West Virginia
JOSEPH T. LAWLESS
Virginia
VICE-PRESIDENTS
With tributes like these from the men who were associated with John Sullivan in the struggle for independence, as well as from their descendants who participated in the dedication of the monument to his memory, we, who are members of the American-Irish Historical Society, can well be proud of the character and the services of Maj.-Gen. John Sullivan.
Edward J. Brandon, Esq., city clerk of Cambridge, read the following paper:
On a certain April morning, one hundred and twenty-two years ago, Samuel Adams prophetically remarked, “What a glorious morning is this!” and, as I stand here, I cannot restrain the feeling that the shade of that illustrious and honored American makes use of the expression with much greater emphasis to-day.
For the accomplishments of his country during the past four generations, her marvelous strides in acquiring and attaining a potent position among the world’s nations, the tremendous development of her magnificent natural resources, the genius and perseverance displayed by her children, the prosperity and importance of her institutions, the advance of her people in culture, the triumph of her principles of democracy, with its lesson to the world that “the people can be trusted with their own,” are surely causes for congratulation and satisfaction. And all this reality dates from an incident comparatively slight in the world’s history, but which is an important epoch in the story of America.
The period of resistance by the Colonies to British tyranny antedates April 19, 1775, by many years, but the culmination of a series of oppressive acts was realized on that day, and in the exciting events preceding and following the fight at Concord and Lexington, the town of Cambridge acted well its part, and contributed its blood and treasure to the common weal.
All Cambridge knows and feels a glow of patriot’s pride in the Declaration of Independence of the people of Cambridge, made months in advance of the Declaration of the Continental Congress, when the town instructed its representative that if the Provincial Congress should for the safety of the Colonies declare them independent of the Kingdom of Great Britain, “we, the said inhabitants, will solemnly engage with our lives and fortunes to support them in the measure.”
In all the preliminary work of the period Cambridge was active and conspicuous, and the animosity aroused by the opposition of her citizens doubtless inspired the hatred of the retreating soldiery of Britain, and caused the shocking brutality which has been told and so often retold. But the history of the time records all these events, and it is needless for me to recite them.
The British troops landed at Lechmere Point on the night of April 18, and marched across the marshes to the Milk Row Road in Charlestown, now Somerville, thence by Beech Street and the present Massachusetts Avenue to Menotomy, Lexington, and Concord. Captain Thatcher and his Cambridge men were among the first to rally for the public safety, and the militia of Cambridge improved the opportunity to attest its loyalty to principle. The muster roll shows that they marched on the alarm, and did service as far as Concord.
Paige, Cambridge’s historian, tells us that from Lexington line to Beech Street the passage of the British troops in retreat was “through a flame of fire.” Despite the fact that the conflict of this day is generally known as Concord Fight or Lexington Battle, the carnage in Cambridge was greater than in any other place, greater than in all others combined; for, according to Rev. Samuel Abbott Smith, in his address at West Cambridge, “at least twenty-two of the Americans, and more than twice that number of the British, fell at West Cambridge.”
Of the fierceness of the conflict we can to-day present ocular proof. The large number of bullet holes in the house then owned by Jacob Watson, some of which may be seen at this time, is one indication of the amount of fighting done in Cambridge; while the spoliation of Cooper’s Tavern in Menotomy and the Memorial stones all along the line of march teach the heat and bitterness of the strife. In our ancient burial ground, by which Lord Percy’s battalion marched to the relief, will be found a neat granite monument over the remains of John Hicks, William Marcy, and Moses Richardson, and in memory of these and of Jason Russell, Jabez Wyman, Jason Winship, buried at Menotomy—men of Cambridge who fell in defense of the liberty of the people.
These things are the inspiration which the Cambridge boy and girl breathe at every step, impelling influences to love of country and fearlessness in her defense.
The Journal of the Provincial Congress estimates the loss of property in Lexington at £1761, in Cambridge at £1202, and in Concord at £274.
But when we consider these exciting events of that memorable day and read the stories of individual heroism, we feel a particular pride that our race was permitted to be a factor in the great result. It would be to us a matter of sincere regret if Ireland, who had contributed so much that was noble and sublime to the military history of other nations, had been deprived of the opportunity to manifest her sympathy by active participation in the “Lexington Fight.” More especially as the feeling of the people of Ireland was well known to Britain and Britain’s rulers, as is evident from the records of the House of Parliament in 1775, where it is of record that Governor Johnstone, in the debate at the opening of the session used these words:
“I maintain that the sense of the best and wisest men of the country is on the side of the Americans; that three to one of the people of Ireland are on their side; that the soldiers and sailors feel an unwillingness to service; that you will never find the same exertion of spirit in this as in other wars. I am well informed that the four field officers in the four regiments now going from Ireland have desired leave to retire or sell out.”
Again, Mr. George Washington Parke Custis, the adopted son of Washington, says that Ireland contributed men to the Continental Army at the rate of 100 to 1 of any nation before the coming of the French. General Lee—Light Horse Harry—said that one-half of the Continental Army was derived from Ireland. It is an undoubted fact that two hundred and fifty soldiers served in the Revolutionary War who bore the Christian name of Patrick. It is also undoubted that the rolls of the soldiers who served at Bunker Hill contained over one hundred and fifty typical Irish names. Verplank referred to the services of Irishmen in the Revolutionary War in these words: “Both in that glorious struggle for independence and in our more recent contest for American rights, England’s penal laws gave to America the support of hundreds of thousands of brave hearts and strong arms.” I might repeat many more instances did the time permit. Sufficient to say that the opportunity was accorded to Ireland’s sons to do glorious work in the first conflict of the Revolution.
Cullen says: “The Irish came into the full light of colonial history at Lexington and Concord. The cry of Paul Revere roused them to take their share in the defense of the common cause. Among them was Hugh Cargill, the Ballyshannon man. To his prompt response Concord owed the safety of her records.”
Rev. Mr. Maccarty is heard from in Worcester on that eventful morning of April 19, 1775. Lincoln’s history of Worcester states that as the minutemen were paraded on the green, under Capt. Timothy Bigelow, a fervent prayer was offered up by Rev. Mr. Maccarty, after which they took up their line of march.
“Another prominent name in the accounts of Concord and Lexington is Dr. Thomas Welsh, who was army surgeon to the patriots. He it was who met brave Dr. Joseph Warren as he rode through Charlestown at about 10 o’clock on the morning of that April day.”
With the evidence of participation indisputable, cannot we of Irish lineage feel the glory of this day as our own right, purchased by the self-sacrificing effort of our predecessors?
And can we not, in fullest measure, in dwelling on the great and famous events of April 19, 1775, exclaim with America’s noble son, “Thank God, I also am an American!”
Cullen (pp. 86, 88) gives the following names found on the rolls of minutemen at that period:
Joseph Burke,
Richard Burke,
Daniel Carey,
Joseph Carey,
Peter Carey,
Patrick Carroll,
Joseph Carroll,
Cornelius Cockran,
Daniel Connors,
William Connors,
James Dempsey,
Philip Donahue,
Joseph Donnell,
John Donnelly,
Andrew Dunnigan,
John Farley,
Michael Farley,
John Flood,
William Flood,
John Foley,
Matthew Gilligen,
Richard Gilpatrick,
James Gleason,
Daniel Griffin,
Joseph Griffin,
John Hacket,
Joseph Hacket,
John Haley,
John Kelly,
Patrick Kelly,
Peter Kelly,
Richard Kelly,
Stephen Kelly,
Daniel Lary,
John McCarty,
Michael McDonnell,
Henry McGonegal,
John McGrah,
Daniel McGuire,
Patrick McKeen,
John McMullen,
John Madden,
Daniel Mahon,
James Mallone,
John Mahoney,
John Murphy,
Patrick Newjent,
Patrick O’Brien,
Richard O’Brien,
Daniel Shay,
John Shea,
John Walsh,
Joseph Walsh.
Joseph Smith, Esq., of Lowell, read the following paper on “The Irishman Ethnologically Considered.”
It is almost as hopeless a task to define an Irishman as it is to give the dimensions of a perfume; for the Irishman is as evasive and delusive, as pervasive and variable in type and character as the sweetness rising from the glowing bed of flowers.
If this society is to have a logical and reasonable plea for existence, if its title of American-Irish is to mean anything, we must reach some solid basis upon which to build our fabric; we must agree upon an acceptable definition of what is an Irishman.
This is what I shall try to do rather than attempt to show the ethnical components that enter into the Irishman. I have gone past the point in my speculations and theories on the Irishman where I place much stress upon the racial elements that go to make the Irish nation. We must start with these facts—the race and the nation are two distinctly different things; the terms Celtic and Irish are not synonymous.
I will state, so as to avoid the polemics of ethnology, just a few facts upon which all people are agreed, to explain why I attach so little importance to the merely racial elements that go to make up a nation. The islands of Ireland and Great Britain were at one time peopled by the one race which was known variously as the Celtic, Cymric, and Gaelic. By emigration, conquest, settlement, slavery, and intermarriage, and all those causes that mix races, Dane, Norse, German, Norman-French, Dutch, French, Walloon, and Flemish were mingled and intermingled with the original race, the constituent elements varying with time, place, and circumstances. So we have to-day in Ireland, Scotland, Wales, and England four distinct peoples different in characteristics, temperaments, thought, and methods, peoples made up practically from the very same elements. As the different sections of Great Britain are separated by purely artificial frontiers, they do not differ as profoundly as do the people of Ireland from those of the neighboring island. We observe in this republic people who claim a direct descent from English and other stocks producing a people as widely separated in thought, ideals, and physical appearance, and other distinctive features from the stock of the old countries as the Russian is from the Spaniard.
It is clear to me that there are other and more potent elements that make and differentiate peoples than mere racial admixtures.
The Irish, though speaking the English tongue and living under laws foreign to the instincts of the people, are a nation apart from the English, hating intensely the tie that binds them, out of sympathy with English ideas, ambitions, religions, and methods; and yet they are both the product of the same racial elements, the alleged preponderance of the Celt in the Irish being largely a matter of doubt and speculation.
What is it, then, that makes this tremendous difference in the two nations? What were the forces that were at work to produce from the same ingredients such profoundly different results? That is the question we must answer; and in answering it we will reach the basic idea of this society. Let me try and answer it in my way, and endeavor to show as simply as possible what an Irishman is.
There are in England as well as in America, among that class that for lack of a better term we must call Celtophobes, those who have an original if unsatisfactory and unscientific way of answering this question which adds to the accumulation of their stolen laurels and seems to afford them much satisfaction. If an Irishman break the record in science, art, literature, or any department of human activity, he is at once classed as an Englishman in England, an American in America; if, however, he merely break the Decalogue, the law, a bank, or his mother’s heart, he must perforce be an Irishman. This differentiation will not do for us, however.
There are some things we must remember, for our work has to bear the closest scrutiny and the most searching criticism.
The characteristics which we deem essentially Irish are not distinctly Irish; they are merely more widely distributed among the Irish. Wit, humor, poesy, melancholy, loyalty to faith and fatherland, patience under trial and hardship, daring in adventure, valor in battle,—these are found in all lands, among all peoples, though the Irish have displayed them so conspicuously in all the centuries that some, aye, many of our own people have come to regard them as exclusively theirs. While good blood will tell and bad, we must look to other things, we must consider other causes than race and blood, if we are to understand the workings of a mysterious Deity and learn how he makes nations and differentiates peoples.
The crude ore lies in the mines of the hills all over the earth, potential in its possibilities, yet heavy, dull, inert, awaiting the day when man shall dig it from its hiding place, try it in the fires of the furnace, beat it on the anvil and transform it into the polished rail that ties together the ends of civilization, that will shape it into the massive engine that carries the fruits of industry and commerce to the uttermost parts of the world, that moulds it into the type and press that spreads intelligence and frees the soul, and that fashions it into the sword that frees the slave. And as the ore, so is man; he must be tried in the fires to be re-made for the work he is to do. The elements lie everywhere; circumstances and conditions weld and mould him into nations. He may creep on into the centuries dull, heavy, oppressed, carrying the thrall of the master, content that he shall eat and drink and sleep in the peace of ignorance, content that his master shall do his thinking and fighting, heedless who the master is, for the hands of all are heavy; taking his religion and his lot from him who rules and starves him.
Others there are who have lived for centuries watching the tide of civilization and the higher life sweep by them, too hotly engaged in the struggle of life and death to snatch the prizes as they go by. Such a land for the long centuries has been Ireland. Seven hundred years has Ireland felt the edge of the sword, and for seven centuries she has shown the naked breast and empty hand to the oppressor, beaten but unsubdued.
Into the fires of hate and oppression, into the hell of battle and persecution, into the inferno of famine, misgovernment, robbery, torture, and all the evils that cold, deliberate malice and wickedness could invent, Celt and Saxon, Norman and French, Dane and Norse, Englishman and Scotchman were thrown, to be fused and mingled, that, in the cooling, God might draw from the ashes the Irishman.
In all those long dark centuries his courage never failed, his hope never dimmed, his faith in God never faltered; he never acknowledged the right of might; he accepted nothing from the man who boasted himself the conqueror of him who is to-day unconquered; he believed the day would come, and it is coming, when the forces of evil would sink beneath the scorn of the world.
In this terrible school the Irishman was made; here was learned the infinite patience of his kind; here was bred that mental alertness, that wit and humor, tinged with the melancholy the world calls typical; here he drank into his blood the courage and flame and battle, that marches him to death with a song and a laugh; here every fiber and tissue of his elemental parts were made over, and upon the green sod, that blood-soaked soil, he preserved the virtues of the man who lives with God and nature.