Research for the Re-Interpretation of the Buckman Tavern

Transcription

Research for the Re-Interpretation of the Buckman Tavern,
Lexington, Massachusetts:
Conceptions of Liberty
By Mary B. Fuhrer, Consulting Historian
For the Lexington Historical Society
February, 2012
Section
Page
I.
Overview – Everyday Life in Colonial Lexington
2
II.
Women in 1775 Lexington
19
III.
Youth in 1775 Lexington
54
IV.
Militia in 1775 Lexington
86
V.
Servitude and Slavery in 1775 Lexington
119
Overview of Lexington, 1775
Section I: Overview
This is a background piece on the farms, family life, town life, and church life of
Lexington in 1775. It is drawn from my prior research for the National Heritage Museum, the
LHS as part of my scholar-in-residence, a quantitative paper that was part of my Ph.D. program
at UNH, my paper on Lexington and Concord for the March, 2012 New England Quarterly, and
my continuing personal study into eighteenth-century life in Lexington.
A. Farms and Farm Family Life1
1.
The Farm
Owning Land: Survival, Subsistence and Status
To the people who lived in colonial Lexington, land ownership was the measure of all things.
Such was true in the rural mid-Atlantic and South as well, but land in New England was used –
and understood – differently. New England’s soils could not support a staple export crop that
could be traded for food and clothing; instead, New England farmers practiced mixed or
diversified farming, where each family strove to produce on their own land most of the
household goods they needed to consume in order to survive.2 There was rarely much surplus to
export, and few markets available to support that trade even if farmers had been able to produce
a surplus. The Lexington farm was thought of as a “household manufactory”; the land provided
the raw material that the family transformed into the food, clothing, shelter and fuel they needed
for a “comfortable subsistence” – their term for the essentials of daily life. Colonial
Lexingtonians thought of their land as their sustenance, their security, and their guarantee of
status and rights within the community.
But it was not just any random piece of land that was required. Because they had to produce
various goods to provide for a range of needs, the family strove to own a minimum amount of
several specific types of land, parcels of which could be spread around the town in several
different locations.3 To sustain that family comfortably required a minimum of 50 to 60 acres of
several different types of land.4 To raise enough grain (corn, wheat, oats, barley, rye) to feed this
family, the farmer generally needed a minimum of five to six acres of tillage land. To feed their
1
Some of the valuation, tax, and probate material in this synopsis was drawn from research I performed for the
National Heritage Museum as background for their “Seeds of Liberty” exhibit. “Sowing the Seeds of Liberty:
Lexington and the American Revolution,” exhibition files. Research by Mary Fuhrer and museum staff, 2003-2004,
MNH 004, National Heritage Museum, Van Gorden-Williams Library and Archives, Lexington, Massachusetts.
2
I do not claim here that New England farms were self-sufficient; they were never able to produce everything they
needed to survive. Some essentials, such as glass, salt, and some metals they had to purchase because they could not
be produced locally; others, such as cottons, ceramics, spices, teas, and exotic dyes, they chose to purchase because
they desired them. Moreover, each farmer had to trade with neighbors for locally produced artisan wares, such as
leather, shoes, ironwook, cabinetry, etc. Labor was the most commonly traded item.
3
Brian Donahue explores this concept extensively in The Great Meadow: Farmers and the Land in Colonial
Concord (Yale University Press, 2004), chapters 3, 7, and 8. See also Carolyn Merchant’s Ecological Revolutions:
Nature, Gender, and Science in New England (University of North Carolina Press, 1989), p. 183.
4
On family and household sizes see Green and Harrington, American Population before the Federal Census of
1979, p. xxiii; this study included extended family and live-in servants as part of the family household.
2M. Fuhrer, Historical Consultant to LHS, Feb., 2012
2
grazing stock, which provided their meat, dairy, wool, and leather in addition to the valuable
manure to sustain their tillage, required on average about 15 to 18 acres of pasture land for
spring, summer and autumn grazing and another 12 acres of meadow to produce the hay for
winter feed. Ideally, the farmer’s hay meadow lay along the banks of a river or marsh that
flooded each spring, covering the land with nutrient-rich silt that renewed the ecological farm
system. The silt fed the hay, the hay fed the cows, the cow manure fed the grains, the grains fed
the people. With careful management of pasture and meadow, these acres of tillage, pasture, and
meadow could support a family’s needs and be kept fertile and sustainable for many years.
In addition, the average farm family would need to cut approximately one acre of wood a year to
produce the 25-30 cords of firewood that they would burn for fuel. Since the hardwood trees
preferred for fuel took about 20-25 years to re-grow, the farmer would need 20-25 acres of
woodlot to sustain his fuel needs.5
Finally, the family would need several acres for their house lot. This would include their house
and the house for their animals, the barn. Next to the barn would be the essential cow yard,
where dung was gathered and saved to spread on tillage land; a dooryard garden for vegetables
and herbs; a small orchard, usually of apples to provide the essential cider; an assortment of
pens, paddocks and outbuildings; and often the farmer’s craft workshop.
Such a farm of 50 to 60 acres of tillage, pasture, meadow, woodlot, orchard, and houselot would
yield the family’s grains, dairy, fruit and vegetables, meat, dairy, fibers and hides, fuel and
timber to feed, clothe, shelter and fuel a family throughout the year. With proper management,
these acres would remain fertile for generations. The family farm, then, was the basis of each
family’s independent subsistence.
But a freehold farm (a farm owned rather than leased or held by obligation to another) conveyed
more than a “comfortable subsistence.” Owning a minimum farm was essential for community
membership and personal independence. Land ownership technically allowed a man to
participate in town meeting, the organization that determined the affairs of the church and
secular community. Most Middlesex towns limited town voting rights to men who owned a
minimum estate. The reasoning was simple: town meeting approved expenditures that would be
financed from property taxes; men who owned no property paid no property tax and therefore
had no right to vote for expenses that they would not share in funding. The men elected to
positions of responsibility, such as selectmen and representative to General Court, were almost
always the proprietors of large estates, reflecting both old habits of deference and the
understanding that these men would be providing the tax resources for much of the town’s
capital expenditures.
But there was another less obvious reason for men to aspire to land ownership. In the English
feudal tradition, land was held by lords who had the resources to defend it. The land was farmed
by tenants or serfs, who were obligated to give the lord a portion of their produce in exchange for
his protection. Lords often exacted from their vassals all manner of extra fees and duties, often
reducing them to states of impoverished dependence. Just as important, vassals were required to
swear fealty to their lord and to follow him in all matters political, social, and religious. Those
5
See Donahue, The Great Meadow, p. 214 and Merchant, Ecological Revolutions, p. 182
3
who lived as tenants on another’s land were not considered to be capable of impartial or
independent action – they were not free.
The chance to escape lordships – to own land as a freeholder, without feudal dues or obligations
– was a major inducement to the Great Migration (1630-40) that brought most of the English
Puritans who eventually settled in colonial Lexington. The heads of families on their own farms
were, figuratively, lords of their own castles, owning fealty to no man but the king, capable of
truly free and impartial political and religious commitments. Men in colonial Lexington valued
this independence. In fact, they viewed tenancy as a form of slavery; their mid-century rhetoric
against perceived oppression by Parliament repeatedly spoke their fear of “slavery” – by which
they meant losing their farms to debt and having to work as tenants or hired labor for others.6
By the mid-18th century, however, securing land in colonial Lexington was becoming
increasingly difficult. Demographic growth had brought the town to the point where there were
no longer enough acres to support each maturing son on a sustainable, mixed husbandry farm.
The generations that lived in Lexington for its first century had filled the land with farms for
sons and grandsons. The story was the same all over Middlesex County: each prolific generation
produced an average of three to fours sons whose farms rapidly consumed the towns’
undeveloped acres. Around 1740, many Middlesex towns were approaching population densities
of roughly 40 to 50 people per square mile; at this point, most towns could not absorb additional
people on sustainable farms. Families with more than one son who lived to maturity were facing
a challenge. They responded by “exporting” two of every three adult sons to new lands to the
west or north.
Generally, once a family’s holdings fell to less than 100 acres, the family would designate one
son to receive that farm. Then the family would have to develop strategies for providing for their
other sons. Wealthy families sometimes sent one son to Harvard College to prepare for a
profession in the ministry. Others sent sons to apprentice with doctors, lawyers or merchants to
learn a trade. But in a culture that valued land so highly, most families tried to set aside enough
resources to purchase unimproved acres for their sons in less expensive frontier towns to the
north and west. In Lexington, for example, in the generation before the Revolutionary War, two
out of every three sons left town; fewer than 10% went to college or the city; 30% settled in
adjoining towns; but more the majority moved to new towns in central Massachusetts, New
Hampshire, or Vermont. There they could repeat the cycle of providing a “comfortable
subsistence” for their families and independent farms for their maturing sons.
The Make-Up of Lexington Farms: Information from the Valuation of 1771
In 1771 the province of Massachusetts surveyed the livestock and land holdings of each town.7 A
Below I have recorded those aggregates in chart form for Lexington, and compared them with
6
See Richard L. Bushman, “Massachusetts Farmers and the Revolution,” in Society, Freedom, and Conscience: The
Coming of the Revolution in Virginia, Massachusetts, and New York (New York: W.W. Norton & Co, 1977) pp 77124.
7
Surviving returns for this valuation have been transcribed by Bettye Hobbs Pruitt, The Massachusetts Tax
Valuation List of 1771 (Picton Press, 1998).
4
the basic subsistence requirements for a family as established by Carolyn Merchant in Ecological
Revolution and with the 1771 holdings for Concord and Lexington.
Average Livestock Holdings in Lexington in 1771
Livestock
Horses
Oxen
Cows
Goats/Sheep
Swine
Basic
Subsistence
1
1 to 2
1
6 to 10
1 to 2
1771
Lexington
1.1
1.4
5.1
3.0
2.2
1771
Concord
1.2
2.9
4.3
3.1
2.1
The average farm in Lexington in 1771 was supporting the average family at just subsistence
level, with the exception of cattle. The number of horses, oxen, goats, sheep, and swine the
average Lexington farm produced was just sufficient to sustain the family. The number of cows
was four times the minimum for survival, but just the minimum of what is needed to manure
tillage. Lexington farmers were relatively well off in cows, which was probably their “market”
product. They could drive excess cattle to the meat market, or send butter or cheese to Boston.
This does not mean that dairy goods were a staple product; having an extra cow or two merely
allowed some Lexington farms to produce a small annual excess in dairy to market.
Thus, we can think of the average Lexington farm in 1775 as having one or two horses, one or
two oxen to use as a team for plowing, four cows, four or five goats or sheep, and three to four
pigs. It would also have had poultry, which was not included in valuations.
The valuations also tracked the amount of land each farmer held in the categories required to
sustain a farm: tillage to grow grain for people and animals (corn, wheat, oats, barley, rye);
pasture for spring, summer, and autumn grazing of cows, horses, oxen, sheep, and goats; and
meadow where farmers could mow hay to store for winter animal feed. Meadow might be either
upland mowing, which was planted English grasses, the most digestible for cows, or fresh
meadow, which had naturally-occurring grasses that grew along riverbanks in some lowland
marshy areas. Some valuations also traced woodlots.
Most valuations tracked only improved land, land that had been made useable by clearing
plowing, fencing, or setting out orchards, paddocks, dwelling houses, barns, workshops, or
outbuildings. Not included in most valuations were critical unimproved acres. These included
woodlot, wasteland, and land not yet developed. The rationale was that men should be taxed
only on land that was productive. This is the way the 1771 Lexington valuation was structured.
The number of unimproved acres can be estimated as a proportion of improved acres. 8
8
Unimproved acreage is calculated here as 40% of total acreage in 1771. For explanation of the adjustment, see
Robert Gross, “Culture and Cultivation: Agriculture and Society and Thoreau’s Concord,” Journal of American
History Vol. 69, No. 1, p. 56 and, Minutemen and their World (New York: Hill and Wang, 1976), p. 210n and p.
213n.
5
Below is a chart of the land holdings of the average farmer as reported in the 1771 Lexington
valuation. For Basic Subsistence Requirements, variations depend on soil fertility.
Average Farm9 Acreage by Usage in Lexington – 1771
Land Usage
Orchard
Tillage
Pasture
Mowing
Unimproved (includes
woodlot)
Total Acreage
1771 Lexington
unknown
5.1
12.5
14.7
21.5
Basic Subsistence10
---3 to 7
12 to 28 combined
Pasture and mowing
20 to 30
53.8
35 to 65
Thus, we can think of the average farm in Lexington in 1775 as having about an acre of orchard,
5 acres of tillage, 12 acres of pasture, around 15 acres of meadow, and about 20 acres of woodlot
or unimproved land. This average farm was more than enough for basic subsistence if the soil
was fertile, but just enough if the soil was near to exhausted. Studies of Concord and Lexington
suggest declining soil fertility in Middlesex in the late 18th century, though some scholars have
questioned those conclusions.
Though the system still worked, it was a system under stress. For though on average most
families had enough to survive in the current generation, few had enough acres to provide for
their maturing sons. As they intensified their farming to increase output in order to raise cash to
buy more land, overstressed soil lost fertility. Rising material expectations for imported goods
also increased the need for cash. Debt rose, and increasingly farm families faced the possibility
of losing their land to creditors. As fathers had less to bequeath their offspring, children felt less
dependent on parents and more freedom from parental control. The social structure was under
strain.
Lockridge calls this mid-18th century social turmoil an “opening” of society. He sees it as a
release from the strict patriarchal control of Puritan fathers over their extended families and an
increase in economic opportunities and mobility. Those third and fourth generation men could
remember that their forefathers had established these towns in search of land – economic security
– and freedom from political and religious control by an interfering central government and state
church. Now, land was running out, and the monarchy was reasserting its right to govern by
sovereignty rather than contract. Farmers were frustrated. The limits on land, as much as
abrogation of rights, threatened them with a loss of autonomy.
2.
Farm Family
Farm families in colonial Middlesex were more elastic in nature than modern families. Though
most households were made up of nuclear families – parents and children – it was not unusual
9
Farm here is defined as any taxpayer’s holdings that include a house and at least one acre of land.
Based on Merchant, Ecological Revolutions, p. 185.
10
6
for a family grouping to include grandparents or a newly married adult child and spouse. Slaves
were also considered part of the household. The family expanded and contracted with temporary
additions came and went: visiting kin (who often stayed for several weeks or months), live-in
hired help, apprentices, boarders, the town poor.
Anyone who lived under the family roof was considered to be under the government of the head
of household. In early Massachusetts, all single people were assigned to a household to ensure
that they would be properly supervised. Even in late colonial Lexington, most single people
would have lived with a family, as it took the labor and resources of more than one person to run
a farm.
Families in colonial Middlesex were large. The average family had about six children, though it
was not unusual for a couple to have ten or more offspring. (Of course, not all children survived
to adulthood.) Most married women in colonial Lexington would have expected to bear a child
about every two years from marriage in her mid-twenties until menopause. There is little
evidence of attempts to limit child-bearing in colonial Middlesex; children were considered a
valuable resource as labor on the family farm and security in the parents’ old age.
This continual child-bearing meant the continual presence of children of all ages in most farm
households. First-born children often produced grandchildren who were the same age as their
own youngest sibling. This created a seamless sense of generations – people of all ages living
togther under the same roof.
3.
Farm House
House Architecture and Room Layout
Massachusetts Bay colonial houses before the 1750 were usually variations on one of two basic
plans. The simplest were one-cell or one bay houses with a fireplace along an outside wall and
either a ladder to a garret or a stairway to a second-floor chamber.11 Because these were modest
houses of relatively little value, few examples survive, though one has recently been
reconstructed at Old Sturbridge Village. The second colonial house type was the two-room “hall
and parlor” design. These houses had a center chimney that provided fireplaces to the parlor (or
“best room”), and to the hall, where most household production took places. Both of these rooms
were multipurpose rooms: the parlor held the master and mistress’ bed (the “best bed” ) and
sometimes a second bed, trundle bed or a cradle, along with table and chairs for entertaining
visitors. This was the more public of the two rooms. The hall was the place of food preparation
and general processing of raw materials into home goods - food, textiles, candles, soap, etc. A
more substantial hall-and-parlor house might have a staircase to a second floor with chambers
over the hall and the parlor. These rooms were also multipurpose, usually used for sleeping,
textile production, and storage of grains and supplies. The upper rooms might or might not have
been heated by small fireplaces.
11
Abbott Cummings, architectural historian, has determined that the work “chamber” nearly always referred to an
second story room when used in the Massachusetts Bay Colony. Cummings, Abbott Lowell, The Framed Houses
of Massachusetts Bay, 1625-1725. Belknap Press, 1979.
7
By 1700, many rural folk were expanding their hall-and-parlor homes by the addition of a first
floor lean-to. This created an additional room along the back of the house, and additional garret
space above. This popular addition soon became integral to the hall-and-parlor house plan, so
that “saltbox” houses were built with the lean-to addition and the larger kitchen fireplace
included in the center chimney stack to serve the long back lean-to room. The lean-to area was
frequently separated into three rooms: a small bedroom at one end, the large kitchen area in the
middle, and a dairy or pantry area at the other end. The garret area of the lean-to might also have
a small area walled-off as an upper sleeping section. Canavan makes references to many of these
“lean-to” houses in eighteenth-century Lexington.
After 1740, very prosperous homebuilders sometimes chose a new “Georgian” style home,
though this was somewhat rarer and later to appear outside urban areas. Georgian style homes
had two chimneys serving four downstairs rooms, a front and back room on each side of a center
hallway with a center staircase. Each of these downstairs rooms was matched by a second floor
sleeping room above. Other prosperous homeowners remodeled their hall and parlor homes into
eight room (four up, four down) square-ish homes, frequently with hip roofs.
Sometimes, after a head-of-household died, a probate inventory of his personal possessions was
taken on a room-by-room basis; in these cases, we can sometimes discern what rooms were in
the house and how they were used. In rare instances, the appraisers state the name of each room
as they enter. Additionally, when a widow’s third is described, the description usually includes
the room or rooms that she will be allowed to use. It is risky to make positive deductions about a
house layout from this sort of evidence, but we can get some general sense of a homestead size
and layout from some probate records.12
Room Furnishings and Room Use.
From the inventories it is clear that families in Lexington tried to keep a “Best Room” where the
head of the family slept and entertained visitors on the best furniture (mahogany table, clock,
desks, and best chairs). Work was relegated either to the second main chamber or to the kitchen
in the rear of the house. All rooms were multi-use, and upper chambers usually doubled as
sleeping and storage areas for grains, wool, flax, and tallow. Textile production was frequently
located in an upper chamber as well. If the house had a lean-to addition, it appears that one
partitioned section of that area was frequently used for storage of kitchen wares and food
processing items, especially dairy production items. Best china and silver were usually kept not
in the kitchen but in the best room, where it could be on display for company. If the house had
luxury items such as clocks, pictures, books, or silver, these were also kept in the best room.
Lexington’s probate inventories allow us to discern the level of family wealth or refinement by
noting the appearance of luxury items such as books, mirrors, mahogany furniture, tea tables, tea
services, china, silver, pewter, glassware, and surplus linens on display in the family’s “parlor”
or “best room.’ Kevin Sweeney, who analyzed over 800 inventories for Wethersfield, Conn. 17th
& 18th centuries, sees a “rising tide of consumer consciousness” between 1721 and 1760,
12
The surviving probate inventories for eighteenth century Lexington are available on microfilm at the
Massachusetts Archives, Boston, Mass. I pulled and analyzed all surviving Lexington probates (wills, inventories,
administration) for the eighteenth century for a previous research paper, “The Battle for Freehold Farms: Lexington
1700-1800, a Quantitative Study,” unpublished paper, University of New Hampshire, Fall, 2006.
8
culminating in a consumer revolution in the mid to late 1700’s. He sees in the mid 1700s the
emergence of a “Gerogian world view,” with empahses on individualism, privacy and order.
“The appearance of sets of chairs, curtained beds, and rooms furnished en suite suggests that
furnishings were acquired to promote a more obviously ordered environment, one that intensified
the desire for greater privacy and enhanced the rituals of genteel civility.”13 The presence of for
these refinements, which could be had only for scarce cash, rose significantly in Lexington
probates after 1740, increasing the pressure on farmers to produce saleable surpluses.
While evidence of refinement could be found in the parlor, the hall or kitchen gives us a view of
family production. Here were found the fireplace cooking utensils, the tools for baking bread,
making stews, roasting meat, and fixing pies. In the kitchen or adjoining yard women processed
herbs into medicines, flavorings, and household cleaners, turned lard into soap ,“put up” or
canned vegetables for winter use, stuffed sausages, salted meat, washed clothes, dyed yarn,
cleaned dishes, scoured pewter, dipped candles, churned milk into butter and pressed curds into
cheese rounds. The household tools mentioned in Lexington’s probate inventories are evidence
of the types of work done in these quarters. This sort of analysis of the household contents for
each of the families gives us valuable evidence of how they managed a comfortable subsistence,
what they aspired to, and what they achieved.
Household Textiles
Textiles were often the most valuable possessions in 18th century Lexington inventories. Most
households had bed sheets, pillowcases, and a blanket for each bed. Some had a coverlid or quilt,
bolsters, and pilebeers [pillow cases]as well. A few had bed curtains. Window curtains were a
luxury item. Most households also had some number of tablecloths and napkins, and usually
some quantity of woolen or linen cloth or skeins of yarn. The value of these linens usually
exceeded the value of all other household furniture.
Inventories also provide an excellent source for reconstructing a farmer’s wardrobe. Of course,
clothing varied by economic circumstances, but most mid-century farmers seem to have owned
one great coat, a straight-bodied coat, several jackets and/or waistcoats, several shirts, one or two
pairs of britches or trousers, four or five pairs of stockings, shoes, hat, and mitts or gloves.
Luxury or refinement was expressed by the presence of velvet jackets, silk stockings or
handkerchiefs, silver buckles or buttons. Women’s clothing is not as well represented among this
probate survey, as there are very few women’s probates included and a widow’s clothing was not
often included in a listing of her “thirds.”
Diet and Annual Household Consumption from Widow’s Thirds
A few wills specify precisely what the widow should receive each year to ensure her
“comfortable subsistence.” This gives us some insight into what was considered reasonable
annual consumption for one person. For example, when Joseph Loring died in 1783, he left
instructions in his will for his widow, Hepzibah, to receive each year 9 bushels of corn and rye
meal, 80 lbs of pork, 60 lbs of beef, 20 lbs of cheese, 14 lbs of sugar, 2 lbs of tea, 2 barrels of
cider, “[apple] sauce and apple sufficient for her comfort,” and “firewood carried into her room.”
13
Kevin Sweeney, “Furniture and Domestic Environment,” in Material Life in America 1600-1860. Edited by
Robert Blair St. George (Boston: Northeastern University Press, 1988), p. 288.
9
The ingredients mentioned here, bread grains, meat, dairy, apples and cider, were the staples of
family diet. Most wills also mentoned those other necessities: flax, wool, or cotton for clothing
and household linens; a few included hogs’ fat allowances for making candles and soap. Often
left unmentioned in widow’s allowance were items should could likely provide for herself:
vegetables from her door-yard garden, dung hill poultry with their meat, eggs, and feathers, herbs
for medicines and dyes, etc. Probates show an improvement in the quantity, variety, and “deseasonalization” over the 18th century.14
4.
Farm Work
The farm land, farm yard, barn, and house comprised a “domestic manufactory”; the entire farm
family was the manufactory’s labor force. Their work was gendered: in general, men produced
the raw materials which women turned into the food and clothing the family needed to survive.
This gendered work was separated by spaces: men’s work was accomplished mostly outside, in
the tillage field, meadows, and pastures; women’s work took place inside, in the kitchen,
chambers, or buttery. The barn and barnyard were shared workspaces, where men tended
animals, reparied tools, chopped wood, and slaughtered animals while women milked cows, fed
tpoultry and swilled pigs, boiled laundry or rendered lard, dyed yarns or tended their dooryard
gardens.
The work of the entire family was needed to make the household manufactory run. Children as
young as three begin taking responsibility for simple chores such as sweeping floors and making
beds. Children took on additional responsibilities and learned additional skills as they grew. By
the time most children were twelve, boys knew the essentials of husbandry and girls of
housewifery, learned by assisting parents and siblings int their work.
Household, Farm, and Craft Production
14
Sarah McMahon collected probate data on widow’s portion for the period 1620 to 1840. She concluded that
throughout the period, a comfortable subsistence was considered a diet that was high in grains, with dinners “usually
consist[ing] of a meat stew or pottage served with bread, pudding, or cake. Johnny cakes, hasty puddings, grain
porridges and gruels, and chunks of bread dipped in milk often satisfied appetites at lighter repasts.” Most breads
were made of a mixture of corn and rye flour until affordable wheat flour arrived from the west in the early 19th
century. The 18th century diet was heavy with meat proteins, mostly in the form of salted beef and pork, but also
including barnyard fowl, some fish and occasional game. McMahon points out that the availability of meat was
seasonal: fresh beef and pork could be had during late autumn slaughter, followed by salt meat until the barrel ran
out, usually in the summer. Together, beef and pork allowances “averaged 180 pounds by the time of the
Revolution and 200 pounds by the early 19th century. Butter could be made in the spring, after the calves were
weaned, and cheese making ran from summer through fall. Gardens provided fresh vegetables in the summer and
root crops for winter consumption. McMahon concludes from her probate study: “During the 18th century, Ne
England farmers improved the quantity and variety of their standard fare and overcame traditional limitations on the
availability of both fresh and preserved foods. Grain harvests provided a year’s supply of Indian and rye meal for
most households regardless of wealth. The stock of animals on most homesteads offered an ample source of meat,
and farmers were slaughtering and barreling quantities sufficient to last through the year. New Englanders converted
increasing amounts of orchard produce into apple cider so that cider gradually replaced beer as the usual family
beverage. Garden roots and vegetables filled the cellar bins and provided a variety of “sauce’ for the winter as well
as fresh greens in the summer. Butter and cheese were produced in sufficient quantity to last well into the winter.”
Eighteenth-century New Englanders saw their diet improve in quantity and variety, and gained better control over
seasonal scarcity.
10
Inventory listings often include items that provide possible evidence of household production.15
Pre-revolutionary Middlesex surveys include evidence of the following:
1. Textile production: spinning wheels, cards, reels, loom, reeds, hetchels, flax, wool,
tape loom
2. Dairy: churns, tubs, keelers, cheese press, cheese mill, milk pans
3. Food preservation: powdering (salting) tubs, brine barrels and pickling items
4. Cider/beer making: cider barrels and casks, cider mill, cider press, malt, hops
5. Candle, Soap, and Glue making: hogs fat, tallow, glue pots, candles, soap grease
Farm tools and farm products in Lexington inventories also give us some indication of the types
of farming activities that individual families undertook:
1. Grains growing: horse or oxen and tacking, ox yoke, plow, plowshare and other
implements for braking ground; harrows; cart or wheelbarrows and dung forks for
manure spreading; sickles and scythes for harvesting; flails, winnowing baskets, fans or
“windmills” for threshing and winnowing; grain riddles and grain sieves, stored corn or
rye meal.
2. Hay meadows or upland planted hay: hay rakes, hay forks, stored hay
3. Garden: hoes, spades, shovels, rakes
4. Woodlot: axes, saws, draught chain, log sleds
5. Orchard: cider presses, cider mills, cider barrels and casks
6. Stock: cattle (cows, heifers, yearlings, calves, oxen, steers, bulls), sheep, goats, pigs,
poultry (feathers)
7. Horses: horses, saddles, bridles, tackling, pillion
For both household production and farm production, it is notable that none of the farms had all
the tools necessary to produce the basics of food and clothing; substantial lending of farm tools
must have been the norm, reinforcing communal interdependence.
Craft production to supplement farming is evident in many of the inventories. Woodworking
tools appear for joiners, housewrights, wheelwrights, and coopers. Evidence of other
supplemental artisan activity include tools for blacksmithing, shoemaking, and potash making.
Some crafts run in families; the Parker clan, for example, all worked wood in one form or
another.
Seasonality of Farm Work
Life on colonial Lexington farms was very much a “round” of chores: work was guided by the
changing of the seasons, following the changing patterns of the stars in the heavens. The work
cycle of the agrarian year, with its rhythem of planting, nurturing, and havesting, had been
followed by agrarian folk for generations and gave meaning to their understanding of the
cosmos. When certain constellations appeared in the heavens, it was time to do certain farm
15
I say possible, because tools could have been inherited; their presence does not guarantee their use.
11
work. For example, each farmer knew, as he saw bright Sirius appear in Canis Major (the “big
dog” constellation,” that the “dog days” of summer had arrived with their hot, hard work of
reaping grains. The cycles of planting, reaping, and dying served as a seasonal parable of their
belief in birth, death, and resurrection.
These predicatable patterns and the relatively unchanging nature of farmwork allows us to use
records of farm diaries from nearby towns to reconstruct the daily work of farmers in colonial
Lexington.
In the winter months, when the sap did not run and the frozen ground made it easier to sled
heavy loads, men felled, hauled and chopped firewood. Because farmers had to feed precious
hay to any animal they hoped to “winter over,” November, December, and January were a time
of slaughtering; the cold helped preserve the fresh meat until women had a chance to salt it or
turn it into sausages. Men took advantage of the winter lull in fieldwork to repair tools or
practice their craft specialties. Women used these indoor months for the-time consuming task of
turning raw wool and flax fiber into thread and textiles.
In April, farmers began their season by turning gardens and plowing their tillage land. The
onerous task of gathering the winter’s manure and ashes and carting them to the tillage field to
be spread and plowed into the soil as fertilizer.
In May and June, while farmers plowed, sowed, and weeded, women turned to the work of the
dairy. Women continued cheese making until the heat of July impeded their work. In July and
August, all available men turned their hands to the hay and grain harvest. Women did extra loads
of laundry and cooked extra meals for hired harvest help.
In autumn, men worked to bring in the harvest of fruits, vegetables, root crops, and squashes,
while women preserved them by canning or making barrels of applesauce, apple vinegar, and
apple molasses for sweetening. Cider mills ran non-stop turning as men produced barrels of that
most essential colonial beverage
As autumn faded to winter, farmers brought in the last of the root crops from the garden to store
in barrels in cool cellars. As deep winter set in once again, men returned to their woodlots and
women to their spinning; the cycle began again.
I am including here an excerpt from a typical farm journal from Middlesex County. This includes
the daily work notations of Jonas Clarke 1766-1775.16 Though Clarke was a minister, he was
also – and primarily -- a farmer.
Jonas Clarke’s Monthly Farm Labor 1766-1775
January - Getting wood and Butchering
- getting wood from swamp, blowing logs, sledding wood
- killing hog(s)
16
I studied this diary at LHS while performing my scholar-in-residence there under Dick Kollen.
12
February - Getting Wood, Butchering, Odd Jobs
- cutting, getting, sledding wood
- killing calf
- tapping cider, sweeping kitchen chimney
[Agricultural year begins here]
March - Town Meeting (Few farm chores)
- sledding rocks
April - Gardening, Plowing
- began to garden, gardening, finished gardening
- men here with teams plowing; breaking up; plowing [he did not own his own team]
- making soap
May - Plowing and Sowing Garden and Grains
- men here with teams plowing; breaking up ground
- planing/sowing: peas, garden seed, flax, corn, oats, barley, potatoes; sowed garden;
finished planting
- getting out dung
June - Weeding and Odd Jobs
- weeding corn
- moving dung to yard; carting dung and ashes
- fishing; building/making wall; cleaning chaise; whitewashing kitchen
- began to mow
July - Mowing, Reaping, Threshing
- began to mow, bad hay weather [rain]
- began to reap, got rye
- threshing wheat; threshing, cleaning up barley
- hilling corn, moulding corn
- sowing rye
August - Haying, Mowing, Flax Pulling
- mowed meadow, mowed little meadow, haying, finished haying, men finished haying,
fetching hay
September - Making Cider, Processing Grains
- making cider
- spreading flax, threshing rye, cutting stalks
- fetching mud from pasture
- making soap; whitewashing study, mending kitchen chimney, laying kitchen floor
October - Corn and Cider
- getting in cider/making cider
13
- gathering corn
-repairing house clapboards, painting house, repairing/laying hearths, cleaning chaise
November - Getting in Vegetables, Carting Dung
- took up carrots and vegetables
- carting out dung
- begin to bring my wood
- killed cow/hog
December - Butchering, Getting Wood, Carting Dung
- killing hog(s)/cow/ox
- began to bring wood, bringing wood
- carting dung
- cleaning chaise
Note that March, the “mud month” in New England, is a slow work month. This was the
traditional time of town meetings. Until 1752, the English New Year came in March, when the
planting season began again.
Jonas Clarke’s list, of course, omits his wife’s work. Women’s work, though also seasonal, had
some elements that repeated on a weekly basis (washing, ironing, baking) or daily basis (making
meals, washing dishes, making/airing beds, milking, feeding poultry and pigs, sewing, carding
and spinning, sweeping and cleaning, child care, tending the sick.)
5.
Farms, Crafts, and Neighborhood Trade
Despite their prodigious home production, no Lexington farm household could produce
everything it needed. Some essential items required the expertise of a skilled artisan (blacksmith,
tanner, cordwainer, weaver, carpenter, wood turner or joiner, housewright, wheelwright, potter,
etc); other items required special equipment, such a mills, presses, and forges. Some essentials,
such as salt, simply could not be had locally. Farmers needed a way to acquire what they could
not produce.
Colonial era Lexingtonians did not just go to a local store to purchase what they lacked. There
were very few stores in colonial Lexington; the few places licensed as “retail establishments”
sold mostly spirits. Even if stores had been available, cash for purchases was extremely scarce.
British policies that forbid the colonies to print or mint money, combined with colonial needs to
purchase imports from the mother country, meant that most specie flowed back to England. So
farm families usually acquired what they could not produce by trading with a neighbor.
Neighborhood trade was neither selling nor bartering. When a farmer received something he
needed from a neighbor, he did not pay for the item in cash, nor did he usually give something of
equal value in trade immediately. Instead, the two parties agreed that the debtor would eventually
14
provide something that the creditor needed; in the meantime, the creditor recorded the cash value
of the debt in a family account book.17
In early account books, the farmer usually recorded his neighbor’s name at the top of a page and
then kept a running account of the cash value of the items he had provided to that neighbor, and
sometimes of the cash value of the items the neighbor had provided to him. These lists could go
on for years, with credit extended indefinitely as the balance of trades swung back and forth.
Eventually, the two men would “reckon” with each other and determine the balance due to one
or the other; the new balance would be recorded and the credit account would be continued.
Little cash ever changed hands, but in this fluid system most farmers were able to acquire the
items they needed and eventually pay for them by providing something of value in exchange.
As farm families traded with other families, broad networks of credit and debt developed that
bound the community together. Sometimes these accounts were further complicated when one
man paid a debt to his creditor by assigning to him the credit owed to him by a third party. Years
of such exchanges created a community woven together in an intricate web of interdependence
and shared indebtedness. When neighbors married and became kin, these mutual obligations
were further intertwined. These mutual needs knit Lexington families and neighbors together. No
person alone could survive; everyone expected to depend on – and be depended upon – by
someone else.
B.
Town
1.
Town Meeting
Colonial Lexingtonians governed themselves by town meeting. All adult men who owned a
minimum amount of property were generally allowed to participate in town meeting. Each
March, the constables of the town “warned” the townsmen of the date and time when they should
gather at the town meeting house. The minutes of these meetings are a rich historical resource.18
At town meeting, the townsmen elected a Moderator, who then ran the meeting. Each March, the
town would elect it’s officers: selectmen, town clerk, treaurer, tyghingmen (responsible for the
moral of the community and specifically observance of the sabbath and keeping order in public
house), tax assessors and collectors, school committee, hog-reeves, constables (law enforcment),
field drivers (taking roaming animals to the pound), fence viewers (keeping fences in order so
that grazing animals cannot escape, highway surveyors (consturction and maintenance of roads),
surveyors & sealers of leather, lumber, weights and measures, etc.
17
These insights on account books and their use in Lexington stem from my scholar-in-residence at LHS under Dick
Kollen, analyzing the account books of the Parker Family.
18
In the past, I have viewed both an abbreviated transcript of the Lexington Town Meeting minutes (1755-1775) in
the Education Dept. archives of the National Heritage Museum and the full transcript of Lexington’s minutes at
LHS. My insights are based on these resources.
15
At the annual town meeting, the townsmen regularly voted on how much tax they would levy on
themselves to support the minister, the schools, the repair of roads and bridges, and the support
of the town poor. Regular issues included:
•
•
•
•
The location of roads
The location and terms of schools
The maintenance of the town’s poor
The resolution of disputes over fences, gates, etc.
There was frequently a second town meeting in May to review the town treasurer’s records and
to attend to any unfinished business; as political tensions rose after 1771, there were frequently
meetings in September or December as well to address emergency concerns.
2.
Schools
Colonial Massachusetts was among the very first places in the world to make the education of
young people a public responsibility. In 1647, the General Court passed a law that required
towns to provide schools (although in practice the law was generally applied only to free, male,
white children). All towns with 50 or more families were obligated to hire a schoolmaster to
teach children to read, write and compute. Towns of 100 or more families were also required to
provide a “grammar school,” with a schoolmaster (usually a recent Harvard College graduate)
able to teach Latin as well.19
The 1647 law eventually led to the establishment of publicly funded district or “English” schools
in all Massachusetts towns. Ideally, these schools were distributed around the town by districts,
so that no child had to travel more than a mile or two. The curriculum was basic — reading,
writing and arithmetic, with the goal of fitting farmers and craftsmen to read their Bible, keep
their accounts, and participate in town government. In larger towns, a young man whose family
could afford to forego his labor might attend a Grammar school and, if he hoped to enter the
ministry, Harvard College.
At no point in the colonial period were parents required to send their children to school, and
many poor children had to be satisfied with whatever education they received at home. Also,
many towns did not allow girls to enroll in the district schools. Girls and very young children
attended what were called "Dame Schools, or “women schools" where a local woman taught
reading, writing and sometimes domestic arts in her home. In many towns, these dame schools
were privately kept and families had to pay tuition for their daughters to attend; in Lexington, the
town supported dame schools after 1747 – before that time, there was no public provision for
girl’s education in Lexington.
Despite the threat of fines, the record books show that many towns were "shamefully neglectful"
of children's education. In 1718 "by sad experience it is found that many towns that not only are
obliged by law, but are very able to support a grammar school, yet choose rather to incur and pay
19
For the introductory material on schools, I excerpted some material that I had previously written for a
MassMoment for the Massachusetts Foundation for the Humanities. For the whole of that essay, see
www.massmoments.org, Apr. 14.
16
the fine or penalty than maintain a grammar school." Legislators increased the fines once more
Lexington was occasionally complained of for failing to keep a grammar school in the first half
of the 18th century
Lexington debated the placement of it school for the half century leading up to 1775. It usually
kept its grammar school in the center district, though in some years it had a “moving” school that
circulated for short terms around four outskirt districts in town, held in private homes. Most
years, however, women schools were held in the districts, and the grammar school was kept in
the school house on the town common. We can be sure that conditions in the center schoolhouse
were not luxurious. The house was rebuilt in 1761 as a one-room structure, about 20 feet square,
with a fireplace and a great chair for the school master. Massachusetts school masters often
complained of schoolhouses that were freezing cold because townspeople failed to supply
enough firewood, although in Lexington, school children were required to provide several cords
of wood per year to the schoolhouse. Schoolhouses were usually crude and poorly equipped.
Most had little more than a chair for the teacher and benches for students, who were obliged to
provide their own hornbook (alphabet sheet), spelling book, primer, catechism, and writing
supplies.
3.
Poor
When the English settled Massachusetts, families were expected, and in some cases legally
required, to care for their dependent members. If an individual had no family who could provide
support, he/she turned to the town's Overseers of the Poor (usually the selectmen. Then, as now,
an overriding concern was to provide adequate assistance at the lowest possible cost. The
common practice was to place the indigent in private homes through an auction or "vendue"
system (from the French word "vendre," meaning "to sell"). Poor people, essential were put up
for auction, and were sent to live with those charged the least for their care.
During the third quarter of the eighteenth century, the number of Lexington’s truly poor, landless
and dependent people was rising significantly, a worrisome burden to the town. In the early years
of this period, only two or three people – usually widows – were dependent on the town. In 1764,
as the post-war recession set in, that number jumped to twelve, and continued to rise for the next
decade. On the eve of the Revolution, there was nearly twice that number of dependent poor.
Residents approved steps to prevent poor people from moving into town; allocated fees and fines
for civil offenses to the care the indigent; and repeatedly (though unsuccessfully) attempted to
establish a poor house. In 1767 the town struggled to support 21 dependent poor, including
families with children. The visible evidence of dependence and poverty unsettled these yeomen.
The practice of having each community taking care of its own poor depended on a town's ability
to define who was a legal resident. To prevent vagrants and those who did not “belong to” the
town (one belonged to a town if he/she had been born there or had paid taxes for a specified
period of time to the town), becoming town charges, Massachusetts had "warning out" laws.
When a non-resident moved into a household in town, the head of that household was required to
report his or her presence to the selectmen. If the newcomer appeared likely to become a charge
of the town, the selectmen would then warn him or her out of town. These individuals were not
compelled to leave, but the town had established that it would not be responsible for their care.
17
Most towns kept careful records of who was warned out, in case that person later applied for
assistance. Lexington’s town records reveal that it was diligent in warning out its non-resident
poor, particularly as poverty increased in the late 1760s. In 1767, town meeting voted to
prosecute any resident who allowed non-resident poor to reside in their homes without informing
the selectman, as dictated by law.
C. Church.
Until the nineteenth century, the Congregational Church was the established state church in
Massachusetts. This did not mean that everyone was a member of the church, only that everyone
was taxed to support the minister in each town.
The 17th and 18th century Puritan congregations in Massachusetts were “covenanted.” To join the
church, one had to be convinced that he or she was among the elect, or chosen saved, provide
testimony to support that belief to church members, and then publicly “own the covenant” of the
church. (Alternatively, as a result of the Half-Way Covenant, the offspring of someone who had
owned the covenant was eligible to belong to his/her parent’s church. The covenant was a
solemn promised exchanged not just between members and God but among members remain
faithful to their Lord and to support each other in the communal practice of their faith. The
church’s covenant was modeled on that proposed by John Winthrop in his “Model of Christian
Charity” speech that the delivered to his fellow Pilgrims onboard the Arabella en route to the
New World:
“It is by mutual consent [that we] seek out a place of cohabitation and consortship under a due
form of government both civil and ecclesiastical. In such cases as this, the care of the public
must oversway all private respects . . . . [We go] to improve our lives, to do more service to the
Lord . . . . We have entered a covenant with [God] for this work.
Lexington’s covenant is included in the transcript of church records in your archives. I point it
out because it is yet another way in which the people of 1775 Lexington felt intimately bound to
each other. By the ties of family, neighbors, town, and church, this was an utterly “networked”
community, and that is also how they confronted the Regulars on April 19th.
18
Section II: Women
This paper will discuss the fabric of everyday life for women in 1775 Lexington and then
consider their participation in and experience of the events of April 19th. This is an overview for
the purpose of re-interpreting the new Buckman Tavern exhibit; it does not attempt to cover
colonial women’s lives in full. For more information on women in late colonial New England,
please consult the bibliography at the end of this paper.
I. The Fabric of Women’s Life in Lexington, Mass., circa 1775
A. The Bonds of Life
No woman was an island in 1775 Lexington. Women lived and defined themselves in
relation to others. Female life was a web of social connections, bonds that both supported her and
limited her. She identified as a wife or widow, a mother or a daughter, a neighbor, a hired help, a
member of the church. Her survival and well-being depended on the assistance and support of
these others. A proper woman lived under a husband to whom she submitted, bore and raised
children, worked with family and friends, traded goods and labor with her neighbors, owned the
covenant and submitted to the discipline of her church. Her life was defined by belonging: to
God, to family, to neighbors, to town. She was not expected to assert an independent existence.
A woman alone, in fact, was a suspect thing. These bonds would be her support on April 19th;
they would also complicate her understanding of the “liberty” which her townsmen fought to
preserve.
We can think of a Lexington woman’s social life in terms of concentric circles radiating
out from her primary relationship, her marriage to her husband. Ninety-five percent of all New
England women from this era married. Married women usually produced children every two
years for twenty-plus years of childbearing fertility, making each woman mother to ten or more
children. This nuclear family represented the innermost circle of relational bonds.
In addition to being wife and mother, a married woman who was mistress of her own
household (that is, whose husband was head of a household, not living in the household of
another), was responsible for a more extended “family.” Anyone who lived within the household
– and this could include grandparents, unmarried siblings, extended family, hired help, boarders,
apprentices, resident poor, and slaves – were subject to the husband’s government and under the
wife’s care. This represented the second ring of relation. Women thought of these live-in others,
whose presence might be temporary or long term, as part of their family, and referred to them in
letters and memoirs as “my family.” The composition of her family might expand or contract
with need; for example, if she were short on female help while her children were small, a wife
might invite an unmarried sister or cousin to “visit” for weeks or months at a time. Or, she might
hire live-in “helps.” These were usually young female neighbors, and they played a central role
in balancing the labor needs of women over their life cycle. Jonas Clarke’s journal provides an
excellent example of this. In the late 1760s, Mary Clarke had eight children, but her oldest
daughter was not yet ten. Short on female help, the Clarkes arranged for a series of live-in local
girls, who joined the family for a year at a time. Clarke records their comings and goings, and
Mary Fuhrer, LHS Consulting Historian, Jan. 2012
19
pays them in textile goods that the girls – Betty Pollard, Betty Perry, and Susanna Merriam –
purchased at area stores. The household might also expand as a woman’s husband agreed to take
in apprentices or to board a poor homeless family for the town. Family might expand as extended
kin – an aging parent or sick sibling – needed care, or contract as maturing children went out to
work for or assist others. Women formed intimate bonds with these “family” members who
shared their homes, worked in their kitchens, watched their children, assisted in textile
production, and nursed them through childbirth or illness. These live-in “family” were the
essential warp in the fabric of their life. Lexington’s women were rarely alone, then, nor did they
likely conceive of their existence in terms of an individual self-oriented identity.
The next ring of social relation extended to neighbors. It is important for us to remember
how critical a role neighboring women played in each other’s lives in late Colonial Lexington.
They depended on each other for trading goods, tools, labor, and sociability. Few farms produced
the perfect balance of goods to supply all family needs, and women were accustomed to trading
“on account” with each other, just as men traded their artisan craft and labor. Few households
had all the necessary tools of production, so most women were accustomed to borrowing a churn
or other dairying equipment, textile tools, pots or tubs for preserving food and producing soaps
and candles, etc. They also had to trade skills, as few women were trained in all of the
specialized steps of household production; a woman might trade her ability to warp a loom for
her neighbor’s gift of making herbal salves. Far fewer women’s accounts survive than do men’s
(Laurel Ulrich suggests that women may have been more likely to keep their accounts in their
heads, or as chalk marks on doors).20 We can assume women’s accounts had the following
general characteristics: women traded most frequently with their closest neighbors, as a matter of
convenience. Trades were not barter; women rarely swapped one-for-one items. Rather, they
kept account with each of their neighbors, recording the value of what they had swapped (for
example, 10 shillings worth of feathers or a half-day of spinning valued at 7 shillings).
Periodically they “reckoned,” totaling all they owed a particular neighbor and balancing it
against all that neighbor owed them, noting what was due to whom. Money was rarely
exchanged; the balance was merely carried forward as “due to” the creditor. As a result almost
all women in Lexington were bound to the other women in their neighborhood in ties of debt and
credit.
Not all neighborly exchanges went on account. Some, such as care for a sick neighbor,
“sitting up” with a neighbor’s ill child, attending a neighbor in childbirth, were considered
deposits into the bank of good will. They were essential, because no woman knew when she
might be called upon to make a withdrawal. With regular childbirth, periodic epidemics, and
providential misfortunes (the loss of a cow, fire in the home, a failed flax crop) women knew
they were dependent on the care and assistance of neighbors.
Neighbors were also a social resource. Work was frequently shared, with one woman
going to her neighbor’s to assist in a task, such as picking and cleaning wool, and then the
neighbor’s returning the favor by coming to her house to do the same. This “changing works”
20
“Because families in early America were neither socially nor economically self-contained, a good housewife was
of necessity a “friendly neighbor.” See Laurel Thatcher Ulrich, “‘A Friendly Neighbor’: Social Dimensions of Daily
Work in Northern Colonial New England, Feminist Studies Vol. 6, No. 2 (Summer, 1980) for more on these interdependent female relations.
20
had a social function, building rapport and relation while making the task more enjoyable.
“Dropping in a neighbor, a woman quite easily joined in the task at hand.”21 Ulrich records an
example of a mother scolding her daughter for not taking her mending to a neighbor’s to do, as it
was easier than having the neighbor, who had small children, come to her.
The next concentric ring of relation was represented by a women’s membership in
church. Not all Lexington women “owned the covenant” and were admitted to the church. Those
who did, however, were bound in covenant relation, which obligated them to assist their fellow
believers in living Christian lives. The covenant which they signed (Lexington did not change or
renew its covenant after 1696; the original is in the Lexington Church Archive, transcript LHS)
abjured them to admit that they were prone to backsliding and had no confidence in their own
ability to live godly lives and therefore joined together with their fellow believers to support each
other in holy discipline. “We likewise Give ourselves up one to another in the Lord resolving by
his help to cleave Each to the other as fellow members of one body in brotherly love and holy
watchfulness over each other for mutual Edification.” This covenant relation was real,
experienced by Lexington church members as a relationship of mutual obligation, watchfulness,
and submission to discipline. Women were “complained of” in the Lexington church for
violations such as stealing or fornication (usually having premarital sex with one’s future
spouse), excluded from communion, and required to publicly confess before being restored to
membership.
Yet a further concentric ring was town membership. Since women could not vote in town
meeting, one might think they had no town “membership.” Yet they did, and it figured into their
identity. Women who wrote wills, like their male counterparts, identified themselves as
“belonging” to the town of Lexington. This was an exclusive and important membership. People
could “belong” to a town only if they had been born there or had paid taxes there for a specified
period of time. The membership was critical, for if they became poor they would be supported
only by the town to which they belonged. Other towns would “warn them out,” and literally
carry them to the town border and deposit them there should they become dependent. Women
were also engaged by the town of Lexington to teach school, to board resident poor or
schoolmasters, to sew funeral garments, to nurse the poor sick. Lexington women belonged to
their town.
These concentric rings of relation bound the women of Lexington together. Their bonds
were supportive; they were also, as we will see, in some ways restrictive. The important thing for
us to remember in considering their experience and actions on April 19th was the very
connectedness of their lives.
B. The Rhythms of Life
If women’s lives were structured in concentric circles, they were also regulated by
regular cycles or rhythms. These included the female life cycle, the annual agrarian cycle, and
the weekly and daily cycles of labor.
21
Ibid., p. 398
21
A woman’s life was structured primarily by the cycles of production and reproduction.
Pre-marriage years were devoted to learning the skills and gathering the tools of housekeeping.
From her mother or a neighboring mother, she would learn from an early age the skills of
childcare and nursing, concocting home remedies, turning the raw materials of the farm into the
food and clothing of her future household. As she approached maturity, she would begin to
gather the essential items of her “marriage portion,” that assemblage of household linens,
cookware, textile tools, and furnishings that she would need to “go to housekeeping.” Lydia
Parker (Capt. Parker’s wife) had a stepdaughter whose 1770s marriage portion was recorded by
the family and survives in LHS records. With her parents’ help, she brought to her marriage:
feathers for a mattress, bed ticks (mattress cover), bedsteads, bed cords, coverlets, quilts, and
underbeds sufficient to equip two beds; shirts, 24 yards of diaper cloth (“diaper” designates the
weave, not the use); “joyner’s” work (wooden furniture of a better quality); chairs; a kettle and
frying pan, trammel, iron work; a Bible and Psalm Book; and “sundries” from two local stores.22
It was a girl’s early life-work to acquire these items, and she felt “ownership” of them, even
though all of her worldly goods became her husband’s on marriage.23
But the major stage in a woman’s life cycle began with marriage and childbearing. Most
women in late colonial Lexington married in their early- to mid-twenties. They generally bore
children every eighteen months to two years from then until the end of fertility in their mid
forties. This general pattern of births was accepted “as a rhythmic part of colonial America’s
everyday existence.”24 As a result most women could expect to have around ten children and to
be continuously either pregnant or lactating from marriage until middle age. Women in
Lexington’s center village from this era provide excellent examples. Lucy Clarke was married in
1757. She had children in 1758, ‘59, ‘60, ‘62, ‘63, ‘64, ‘65, ‘67, ‘68, ‘70, ‘74, ‘79 and ’80, all but
one of whom survived to adulthood. In the spring of 1775, Lucy was responsible for the wellbeing of ten children, one of whom was only an infant. Anna Harrington, who lived with her
husband, Daniel, at the head of the common, likewise gave birth in the year she was married in
1760, then again in ’62, ’64, ’66, ’68, ’70, ’72, ’74, ’76, ’79, and ’80. In April of 1775, she was
caring for seven children, from aged 14 to an infant. Also near to the Common lay the home of
Lydia Mulliken, whose husband’s early death limited her childbearing. Nevertheless, before he
passed away, she bore him children in 1752, ‘53’, ’54, ’56, ’57, ’63, and ’65.
The experience of bearing and raising children was the most central and arguably the
most important aspect of Lexington’s women’s life and identity. Child-bearing was risky, and
death in childbirth was not uncommon. Thus, most women in Lexington faced their mortality on
a bi-annual basis for much of their adult lives. Caring for those children from birth to marriage
would occupy more than half of her life. “Mother” was her primary identity. Her bonds to her
children – their dependence on her and her emotional attachment to them – must have been
central in shaping her life experience and self-image. I would claim that her role in caring for and
protecting the well-being of her off-spring would provide women’s central activity and focus on
22
See Ephraim Peirce, “My two Dauters had of their father and mother when they went away from us of our astate,”
1772, in the Parker Family Papers, Folder 13, Lexington Historical Society.
23
Some wills specify that a widow might keep “all she brought with her” to the marriage; probate judges practically
never distributed a widow’s clothing or her essential equipage to her late husband’s heirs.
24
Mary Beth Norton, Liberty’s Daughters: The Revolutionary Experience of American Women 1750-1800 (New
York: Cornell University Press, 1980, p. 73.
22
April 19th. And she did this work with the assistance and support of her female “relations” –
family, neighbors, helps as a shared gendered duty.
The third stage of women’s life cycle, should she reach it, was widowhood. During this
stage, she might find her economic and social situation utterly changed. Widows were the only
females who might, with respectability, be heads of household. By law, a third of her husband’s
estate was reserved for her life-time use, and some husbands – by will - left even more assurance
of their widow’s well-being. A few left her full control of a portion or all of the family “personal
estate” – household goods, clothing, and furniture – to use or dispose of as she wished, one of the
rare occasions in which women gained control of property. Others assured their widow’s wellbeing by stipulating the food, fuel, and textile fibers that must be provided for her by the heir on
an annual basis. So, for example, John Tidd’s will stipulated that his widow be allowed the use
of several rooms in his house and that his sons furnish her annually with six cords of wood, cut
fit for the fire, stacked at the front door; two barrels of cider (considered the per-person annual
consumption); one bushel malt, six bushels corn, six bushels rye, 1000 lbs pork, 70 lbs beef, four
lbs of good wool, and 10 lbs of flax. She would be secure in shelter, fuel, grains, meat, beverage,
and fibers for making her textiles; she would likely provide from her own garden her vegetables,
herbs, medicines, and poultry. Most stipulations also include an allowance of butter and cheese.
Women such as Dorothy who were well-provided for and were left in control of a comfortable
estate usually did not remarry, but enjoyed this period of relative independence.25
But widows of men who were not so well off as John Tidd found their new situation
difficult or even tragic. When Edmund Munroe died during the Revolution, his wife Rebecca
could not care for their children, who were sent to be raised by others. Widows such as Abigail
Harrington, who lived at the head of the common, scrambled to make ends meet by teaching
school, renting a room in her house for school classes, taking in the town’s poor as boarders, and,
it appears, promising her home to her nephew and his wife upon her death in exchange for their
promise to care for her in her old age. Some widows, finding their homes willed to one of their
offspring, became tenants in their former household, or went to live in the households of other
grown children. Mary Samuelson lived with several of her grown children, outliving them all,
and finally moving into her granddaughter’s family. Other widows were less fortunate still.
Without men to work their land, they were thrown upon the care of the town, who would put
them out at vendue to those who would pay the least for their care. Lexington widows in the
1760s saw their families split up, as young children and adolescents were bid on and placed in
different households around town.
This life cycle provided one form of structure in women’s life. Another, equally
determinative cycle was the rhythm of the agrarian year. The seasons of planting and nurturing,
harvest and fallow, followed by rebirth rolled on in ancient, deeply meaningful rhythms. This
cycle was mapped out in the spin of the heavens: as Taurus rose in the spring sky, men took their
oxen out to plow; when Sirius announced the “dog days” of summer, they turned to the hot,
heavy work of reaping. Nature’s cycles echoed religious understanding, for seasons of growth,
death, and rebirth spoke to the ultimate meaning of life.
25
Daniel Scott Smith, “Inheritance and Social History of Early American Women,” in Women in the Age of the
American Revolution ed. by Ronald Hoffman and Peter J. Albert (Charlottesville, Va.: University Press of Virginia,
1989), pp. 55-57.
23
The agricultural calendar structured women’s life in a very basic way. It was women’s
work to turn the raw materials of land into the food, fuel and clothing of her family. Her tasks
followed her husband’s, as each season brought its particular labors.
We can trace men’s labor through Jonas Clarke’s account book, where he faithfully
records his annual cycle of chores.26 March was mud month, when men mucked their fields and
prepared for plowing. April and May was occupied with plowing, harrowing, planting their
fields, and turning and planting their gardens. June they weeded and cultivated, July and August
they mowed hay and reaped grains. September they got in their fruit harvest and processed their
grains, while in October they brought in their squashes and root vegetables. Over the winter
months, they slaughtered livestock, cut and sledded wood, and fixed their tools, to prepare for
the cycle to begin anew. But what of women’s work?
Women’s work had a seasonal cycle as well. Clarke did not record his wife’s labor, but
John Parker’s account book, in its annual rhythm of bespoke wooden tools, reveals the cycle of
women’s work. Each season brought its own need: churns, butter boxes, cheese presses and tubs;
cider presses, pickling barrels, meat salting tubs; tubs for tallow and lard; linen and woolen
wheels. One can trace the seasons of women’s work through the annual rise and fall in requests
for these wooden tools of domestic production.27
The season started with the birth of new animals in early spring. Calves meant milk, and
the beginning of the twice-daily milking ritual and the making of butter and cheese that would
continue through the summer and autumn. Spring also meant spring cleaning, whitewashing
soot-stained walls and sweeping out winter’s debris. Sheared sheep meant wool to pick, clean,
card, and spin. May’s garden planting was followed by wedding, tending, picking, and putting up
produce. The hay and grain harvests in July and August meant extra hands to feed and board, and
much extra laundry. By September, Lexington’s women were turning apples to sauce and cider,
drying fruit, making preserves. In October and November they were busy putting up vegetables
and fruits. The winter slaughter meant that meat would need to be salted in tubs or turned to
sausages, lard rendered and turned to candles and soap. Winter months were usually heavily
occupied with spinning, knitting, sewing, and repairing textiles.
These annual cycles were accompanied for women by weekly and daily tasks as well.
Laundry and baking were done each week, with washing and ironing frequently taking all of
Monday and Tuesday, while baking frequently occupied women on Saturdays. In addition, every
day required that women tend fires, prepare meals, draw water and wash dishes, make up beds,
sweep and clean, feed chickens and pigs, and tend the ever-present troop of children. Sewing,
mending, and knitting stockings were endless, ever-present tasks.
We may see this as drudgery, and women certainly knew their work was never done. But
we should also remember that Lexington’s women took pride in their identity as essential
producers. A man could not run a farm successfully without the skillful, economical labor of his
wife. Widowers almost always remarried quickly. Women took a degree of pride and a sense of
26
27
There is a summary of Jonas Clarke’s seasonal labor in the appendix.
John Parker’s Account Book, LHS Archives. See also my paper analyzing these accounts.
24
identity from their essential role as productive goodwives. We can see just how critical the work
of women was to survival when we consider what was considered essential for survival, as
revealed in “widow’s portions.” Joseph Fiske, for example, required his son to provide his
mother with specific annual allotments of grains and meat, dairy, flax and wool, hog’s fat and
firewood.28 But these items were not useful until the grain had been turned to bread or pottage,
the dairy to butter and cheese, the flax and wool to cloth, the hog’s fat to candles and soap – all
women’s work. In addition, Hepzibah Fiske would have been expected to provide her own
vegetable and medicines from her dooryard garden, her own chicken, eggs, and feathers from her
poultry. It was women’s labor that turned men’s labor into the essentials for survival. Men, and
particularly ministers, praised the model of the woman of Proverbs 31: She watches over the
affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. 29
A woman was also occasionally called upon to replace her husband in his duties if he was
away or incapacitated. Laurel Ulrich has called this being a “deputy husband.” “Should fate or
circumstance prevent the husband from fulfilling his role, the wife could appropriately stand in
his place, a form of service to him.”30 Such a role conveyed temporary authority, but it was
authority derived, we should note, from her relationship to her husband. She might also have a
particular skill that formed part of her identity: Lydia Loring and her sisters were trained as
“tailoresses,” Edmund Munroe’s mother could write and teach very fine script handwriting.
Others might be trained as midwives (I do not know who Lexington’s midwife was), or have
special skill in making herbal medications or salves.31
There is one other general aspect of women’s identity from this period that we should
consider. They were, as we have noted, producers of household goods. Increasingly after midcentury they also became consumers of goods for the household. Rising availability of imported
goods and an influx of specie from the motherland to support the French and Indian War effort in
the colonies fueled a consumer revolution in the quarter century before the Revolution.32 And
most of the goods purchased were household refinements: imported textiles, ceramic, brass,
silver, and gold housewares and ornaments, clocks, rugs, looking glasses all were sought after by
those who could afford them. The popular opinion, however, was that the driving force behind
these purchases were female desires for refinement and luxury within the home. While all
property technically belonged to the husband, household movables (textiles, furniture, the tools
of domestic production) were generally passed from generation to generation through the femal
line (in marriage portions or wills to females) and were considered properly part of women’s
domestic sphere. It was females who controlled the use of these items, and female desire that,
according to disapproving ministers, fueled the consumer revolution.
28
I have provided transcripts of three Lexington “widows’ portions” in the appendix.
The full text of Proverbs 31:7-31, so often quoted to describe the qualities of a good wife, is included in the
appendix.
30
Laurel Thatcher Ulrich, Goodwives: Image and Reality in Northern New England 1650-1750 (New York Vintage
Books, 1980), pp. 35-50.
31
The “recipes” included in the family papers of John Parker, Folder 13, LHS, are transcribed in the appendix.
32
There is a broad secondary literature on the consumer revolution of the mid-eighteenth century. For an overview,
see T. H. Breen, “An Empire of Goods: The Anglicization of Colonial America, 1690-1776,”Journal of British
Studies Vol. 25, No. 4, Re-Viewing the Eighteenth Century (Oct., 1986), pp. 467-499 or his later book, The Market
Revolution: How Consumer Politics Shaped the American Revolution.
29
25
In Lexington, we know that the presence of luxury items (gold, silver, pewter, brass,
clocks, and looking glasses) in probate inventories soared after 1750.33 Various records
document this rise in household refinements among Lexington’s more-well-to-do (or aspiring)
households in the years surrounding the revolution. When Lydia Mulliken’s husband died in
1768, an inventory of his estate revealed that they had gathered several markers of taste and
fashion: a “bewfat,” (beaufort) or fancy corner cupboard for storing and displaying fine china
and class, a picture (likely a painted portrait), a desk, cases of drawers, mirrors, a tea table,
pewter, brass and glassware. These items signified prosperity and genteel taste.34 Anna Munroe,
at her marriage to inn-keeper William in 1767, reportedly brought “marriage furniture” including
a “Round mahogany table, two arm-chairs, looking-glass, hat-tree, Britannia teapot, silver
tablespoon and . . . pewter candlestick,” in addition to her more utilitarian kitchen and fireplace
tools.35 William’s brother Edmund Munroe had built up a goodly fortune trading in furs before
his marriage to Rebecca Harrington, and he titled himself a “gentleman.” To support that
assertion and prove their refined sensibilities, the couple acquired within a few years pewter,
brass, glass, china, and delft ware, a tea service, tea board and tea table, “a number of picters,”
mahogany tables, chests of drawers, looking glasses, silver spoons, punch bowls, brass ink horns
and an extensive line of linens.36 Rebecca’s parents kept pace with their daughter: a claim for
damages after the battle includes the loss of over £50 worth of textiles, including one “fine India
dark gown,” one “striped English cotton gown,” an expensive (£15!) eight-day tall case clock,
three large mirrors, and teapots.37 Common to most of these enumerations of luxury goods was
the tea service, and Canavan notes that in local memory, “the greatest luxury of women was their
tea, their greatest dissipation to make calls in the afternoon and have a dish of tea and to gossip
over it. Women loved silks and finery, china and silverware and saved to buy them.”38
Of course, it is important to remember that only Lexington’s more affluent women could
afford such luxuries. Women who came from more modest families began life with much less.
Mary Munroe at her 1772 marriage to Samuel Sanderson brought as her portion some articles of
clothing and a few household goods such as a mortar and a pestle, and one item of great value to
the young couple, a cow. 39 Yet Mary was proud of these, her goods, and she likely hoped that
her husband’s woodworking would allow her some day to supplement them with finer wares.
How, then, should we imagine the daily life and identity of the women of Lexington on
April 19th, 1775? First, we should remember that almost all of them were preparing for,
participating in, or survivors of marriage. The majority was responsible for large families and
was caring for numerous offspring. They oversaw or worked in a domestic manufactory. Since it
was April, they were engaged in milking and early butter making, spring cleaning, cleaning and
carding sheep’s fleece, and preparing their dooryard gardens for planting. April 18th, the eve of
the battle, was a Tuesday, so most women had likely just finished two long days of tiresome
33
See my paper, “To the Common and the Bridge: the Revolutionary Worlds of Lexington and Concord
Compared,” upcoming NEQ, which documents the rise of luxury goods in Lexington probates.
34
See Nathaniel Mulliken Sr. probate inventory, Massachusetts Archives, Boston, Mass.
35
Proceedings of the Lexington Historical Society, Vol. I, p. lxxxi.
36
Probate Inventory of Edmund Munroe, 1777, Middlesex County Courthouse Record #15663, Massachusetts
Supreme Judicial Archives, Boston, Mass.
37
Claim for Damages, Record of the Provincial Congress of Massachusetts, May, 1775.
38
Canavan, pp. 262-3.
39
Smith, “Reminiscence,” LHS Proceedings, p. 59, 61, 62.
26
washing and ironing. These women “owned” their role as productive mistresses of their
households, they “owned” in an emotional if not legal sense their household tools and
furnishings, and they aspired to improve these possessions. Most of all, they lived bound in
relationship to family, neighbors, church folk, and townspeople. They lived in the bonds of
womanhood.
II. Dependence and Liberty for Lexington’s Women
We have chosen to consider what liberty meant for the various participants in the events
of April 19th in Lexington. Given women’s particular situation, the rhetoric of liberty and
resistance to slavery, of self-determination and independence must have carried a certain
dissonance. Lexington’s women lived lives of almost complete dependence upon men. As
daughters they were subject to their fathers, as hired labor to their masters, as wives to their
husbands. They had no political role except the right of petition – literally, the right to beg for
favor – to male governors. What then, did it mean for patriotically-inclined women to devote
themselves to resisting tyranny and asserting independence? Abigail Adams so eloquently noted
to her husband:
Patriotism in the female sex is the most disinterested of all virtues. Excluded from
honors and from offices, we cannot attach ourselves to the State or Government
from having held a place of eminence. Even in the freest countries our property is
subject to the control and disposal of our partners, to whom the laws have given a
sovereign authority. Deprived of a voice in legislation, obliged to submit to those
laws which are imposed upon us, is it not sufficient to make us indifferent to the
public welfare? Yet all history and every age exhibit instances of patriotic virtue
in the female sex; which considering our situation equals the most heroic of
yours.40
For the most part, woman lacked all the basic forms of self-determination. Legally,
economically, politically, and even religiously laws and customs were structured to make her
subservient to and dependent upon males. Let’s briefly review those forms of dependence.
A woman’s well-being, even her very identity, was determined by her relationship to a
man. Men’s identity was determined by his property ownership (gentleman, yeoman) and by his
occupation. We can see these self-identifications in legal documents such as deeds, contracts,
wills, court records, in which an individual begins by enumerating the facets of his identity: his
name, the town, county, and province to which he “belongs,” and his occupation: “I, John
Buckman, in the town of Lexington, county of Middlesex, Province of Massachusetts, joiner . . .”
Women’s identity however, was determined not by her economic occupation, but by her marital
status. 41 Thus, she appears officially only as “wife of” or “widow “(or relict), and only very
rarely as “singlewoman.” The distinction was not just a formality. It represents a determining
40
Abigail Adams to John Adams, 17 June 1782. Adams Family Correspondence, L.H. Butterfield et al., eds.
(Cambridge, Mass., 1963) IV, p. 328.
41
Smith, “Inheritance and Social History of Early American Women,” p. 58.
27
reality for Lexington’s eighteenth century women. Women’s existence was defined in their
dependent relation to men.
As 95 percent of all women married, most women, then, were defined in relation to their
husbands. In marriage, legally a woman’s identity disappeared into, or was absorbed by, her
husband’s. The legal construct for this was coverture, a legal custom by which all of a woman’s
property, interests and concerns were assumed by her husband at the time of marriage. Her legal
and economic existence was “covered” by her husband – the pair became, in essence, a single
person with a single will, the will of the husband. All property, and all decisions regarding the
use of property, belonged to the husband. The wife’s marriage portion from her parents, the fruits
of her labor, any bequests or gifts she received, all became her husband’s property to use or
dispose of as he saw fit. A married woman possessed nothing of her own. The law ensured that
she would remain economically dependent upon her spouse.
Politically, also, women had no existence. Colonial Lexingtonians believed that only
people able to exercise complete free will ought to be allowed to participate in governance.
Critically, only those who owned enough property to be independent – to not have to rely on
someone else for their daily bread – were considered truly capable of free will, as all those who
depended on another were likely to be subject to that person’s influence. Only those who were
“self-mastered,” then – only independent property owners – could participate in town meeting.
An unmarried women, they reasoned, was dependent on her father; a married woman on her
husband, and thus ineligible for political existence. Even wealthy widows were barred from
political participation, on the grounds that women’s weaker natures made them susceptible to
influence and incapable of truly exercising free will. Coverture was considered a protective
measure, beneficial in guarding the weaker sex against undue influence by malevolent outsiders;
she would be protected by having her husband steward her resources. Coverture, however, as
historian Linda Kerber has shown, “interposed husbands between their wives and the civic
community,” and though generally accepted as longstanding custom, was nevertheless
“completely incongruous with republican rhetoric and ideology.”42
There was only one legitimate way for women to attempt to represent their individual
interest to government: to petition. In this, they assumed an attitude of humility, and literally
begged consideration of their masters. This was a supplication, directed at men’s sense of justice
or mercy, not an assertion of rights. Consider the language of Hepzibah Raymond of Lexington,
as she pleaded for an extension of her late husband’s tavern license.
To his Excellency, Governor Bernard: Humbly shows Hepzibah Rayman, widow
and administratrix of the estate of her husband Jonathan Raymond, that said
Jonathan kept tavern many years on the great road in Lexington by license of the
Court of General Sessions of the Peace; that he died May current leaving his
house well stored with things for business, but although administration is granted,
and the selectmen approve her keeping tavern, she cannot do so upon the license
granted, without license from your Honour. Wherefore, as there is no other
Tavern near, and carters and travelers are continually calling at the house for
42
Linda K. Kerber, Women of the Republic: Intellect and Ideology in Revolutionary America (Chapel Hill,
University of North Carolina Press, 1980), p. 159. See this work for more on coverture.
28
entertainment, she prays she may keep the tavern, until next time for granting
licenses, she giving bonds to keep order and pay duties of excise. Hepsibah
Raymond X her mark43
Hepsibah Raymond could not write (she signed with her mark), so even in begging she was
dependent upon men.
The death of Hepsibah Raymond’s husband had exposed her to the vulnerabilities of an
“uncovered” woman. By law, two-thirds of her husband’s estate was to be delivered to his heirs
or creditors. This almost always meant that the woman who had been mistress of her husband’s
house was now restricted to the use of one-third (usually one or two rooms) of that dwelling, the
rest passing to her sons (and their wives), or, if her husband had died in debt, to his creditors.
Thus it not infrequently happened that a widow found herself occupying two rooms in a home
that had passed out of the family, the rest being auctioned to outsiders. This was the case, for
example, with Lydia Parker, widow of Capt. Parker, who saw most of her abode taken over by a
neighboring family, the Simonds. Just as heart-wrenching, no doubt, was the liquidation of her
household goods, her furniture, tools, and textiles, to settle debts or fulfill legacies. Most painful,
though, would have been the loss of her children. For if the court deemed the widow unable to
support young children, they would be sent out to be fostered by guardians, as they were for
Rebecca Munroe after Edmund died in battle.44 The loss of one’s spouse revealed the true
powerlessness and vulnerability of women in this male-controlled society.
We do not know if women resented this state of dependence, if they felt it was unjust or
if they longed to change their state. After all, there was powerful religious justification for the
status quo. Women had been taught from birth that God had planned and sanctioned a social
order in which women were to be under their husband’s government. “In his 1727 book, The
Well Ordered Family, Benjamin Wadsworth reminded women that God had made Eve as a
helpmate to Adam and the apostles required ‘wives be faithful in all things, keeper of the
home.’”45 Ministers regularly reminded their female parishioners of the duty of submission and
the proper attitude of humility and acceptance in the face of their husbands’ authority.
Enlightenment philosophers, such as Samuel Chase in Baron and Feme, bolstered this attitude by
their claim that not just God, but the law of nature, put a wife under the obedience of her
husband.” The pious, dutiful, and reasonable wife, then, was well-conditioned to accept her
dependence and to strive to submit in the name of godliness. In a world in which resistance to
male domination was sinful and unnatural, we have to be careful in assuming that women
considered themselves unjustly oppressed.
Nevertheless, the omnipresent rhetoric of resisting slavery and oppression, asserting
one’s natural rights to self-determination and the pursuit of individual goals of happiness, likely
made women aware of the incongruity of their position and the patriotic ideals being proclaimed
by their men folk. In fact, we know that women were not completely submissive and powerless.
43
This petition is quoted in Canavan, p. 398.
Canavan, p. 284.
45
Carol Berkin, Revolutionary Mothers: Women in the Struggle for America’s Independence (New York: Alfred A.
Knopf, 2005), p. 4.
44
29
They had various methods and strategies for pursuing an independent role and identity within the
confines of coverture and household government. Let’s consider some of those strategies.
First, women knew that their critically important domestic production gave them a
powerful place in the family; here, men were dependent on them. As we have said, most men
whose wives died young quickly remarried as, even with the assistance of extended family and
neighbors, a man without a wife to turn the raw materials of the farm into consumables, to
produce the next generation of family laborers, to keep the household in order, was in a severely
disadvantaged position. The mistress of the family quite literally held the “keys to the cupboards,
boxes, and rooms containing household provisions.” Wives enjoyed the identity and dignity of
“economists” – a term which at that time referred to the economical accumulation, storage, use,
lending and trading of household goods. This oversight, as stewards of domestic production,
gave wives a degree of independence in the use of their skills, acumen, and judgment. Though
technically a mere helpmeet, she bore the full responsibility – and power – for the economics of
household production.46
There is evidence that, though a woman’s possessions and the products of her labor
technically belonged to her husband, yet some men considered any surplus that his wife was able
to produce to be under her control. Robert Gross relates the story of a man from Concord during
this period who was taking his wife’s surplus eggs and butter to market in Boston when the
donkey decided to take a roll in a stream. Infuriated, the man berated the beast for ruining
“Dinah’s” produce.47 Laurel Ulrich demonstrates that New England’s colonial women did keep
their own accounts, if not always in an account book, then at least on barn doors or mental notes.
Some could realize a small surplus in cheese or butter making, in eggs or poultry, garden
vegetables, candles or soap, spinning of flax or wool thread, etc. to trade with neighbors or to
exchange for credits at the nearest store. Store accounts were generally kept under the husband’s
name, but revealing notations such as “credit towards your wife’s yarn,” reveal women’s
production.
We do not have evidence that wives were allowed to accumulate credits or capital in their
own accounts that they could spend without regard to their husband’s wishes. What we do know
is that in the second half of the 18th century, rural New England women intensified home
domestic production. Laurel Ulrich has shown that many focused specifically on producing
household linens that they had previously had to purchase from professional male weavers. By
making her own bed and table lines, towels, and blankets, a woman freed the money that had
previously been spent on these items for other purchases. Ulrich documents this by showing a
marked rise in the number of households that owned spinning wheels and looms over the course
of the 18th century, and she concludes that women engaged in this increased household weaving
to increase resources for consuming newly available imported goods. In this, women played a
vital role in family economics, and they managed a way to divert resources to the household
refinements they desired.48
46
See Ulrich, “A Friendly Neighbor,” pp. 392-4.
Robert A. Gross, “Culture and Cultivation: Agriculture and Society in Thoreau's Concord,” The Journal of
American History Vol. 69, No. 1 (Jun., 1982), pp. 42-61.
48
Laurel Thatcher Ulrich, “Wheels, Looms, and the Gender Division of Labor in Eighteenth-Century New
England,” William and Mary Quarterly 60, No. 1, Jan. 1998, pp. 3-38.
47
30
Women could also turn their traditional skills to gain. Joseph Loring’s daughters provide
a good example. Loring had skills as a tailor. He taught his daughters, and before their marriages
they also worked as tailoresses, doing the complex cutting and fitting of garments, or
seamstresses, sewing the endless seams. Lydia, the eldest, taught school as well. Her prolonged
state as a single women – she did not marry until she was 31 – doubtless added to the family’s
revenues, but also to her own marriage portion. Women such as widow Abigail Harrington could
earn money boarding transients and local poor, young singlewoman Betty Pollard could earn
credits towards textiles for her dowry as a household help in Jonas Clarke’s family, and married
women could earn for nursing the town’s poor, sewing their funeral shrouds, and taking in their
orphans. We do not know if they engaged in this extra work in a conscious effort to exert
independent agency, but the result was similar: various women in colonial Lexington managed to
supplement household revenue or build marriage portions in ways that allowed them to pursue
and achieve desired change in their lives.
There is also evidence that women in mid-eighteenth century New England were making
a conscious effort to improve their literacy. This included not just reading, which would allow
them to improve their religious and worldly knowledge, but in writing, a change that Gloria
Main claims is evidence of rising female initiative. Reading and writing are separate skills. Main
shows that many New England women were taught to read, ostensibly to be able to study their
bible. However, at the turn of the eighteenth century, far fewer women could write. She traces
the number of women who could sign their names to wills and other legal documents, and
discovers that writing skills soared dramatically in the 1750s and after. Astonishingly, many of
the women who learned to write during the decades immediately before the Revolution did so as
adults, not as schoolgirls. This is an indication of a surprisingly non-traditional female self-help
initiative. She proposes that women consciously sought writing and ciphering skills in order to
keep their own accounts with neighbors and storekeepers. Their desire for refining their
households pushed them to produce household surpluses and trade, and their trade required their
increased literacy.49 This is evidence of women moving consciously, willfully, beyond
dependency.
This show of rising female initiative is evidenced in other areas of Lexington life. Youth
were more promiscuously rebellious in Lexington, with one in three women being pregnant at
the time of the marriage in the twenty years before the Revolution, a level substantially higher
than in the first decades of the century. They also married younger, chose more of their spouses
from out of town, and elected to name fewer of their firstborn after the family-honored name of
its same-sex parent.50 Perhaps an even stronger assertion of independence was their limitation of
childbearing.51
49
Gloria L. Main, “An Inquiry into When and Why Women Learned to Write in Colonial New England,” Journal of
Social History Vol. 24, No. 3 (Spring, 1991), pp. 579-589.
50
See the appendix of my paper, “To the Common and the Bridge.”
51
Falling birthrate in Concord: for drop in fertility in Concord in this time, see pp. 81-106, Marc Harris, “The
People of Concord: A Demographic Study,1750-1850,” in Concord: The Social History of a New England Town,
1750-1850. Edited by David Hackett Fischer, Waltham: Brandeis University, 1983.
31
There was another way a woman might gain independence: as a widow. Obviously, this
was not an intentional strategy (or at least we do not know of such a case of “Murder She Wrote”
in Lexington). However, once a woman was a widow, if she had been left sufficient financial
resources, she had ways to manage an independent existence. A widow was considered, legally,
a feme sole, or, a “woman alone.” As such, a widow “had access to a broader legal identity than
she would as a matron. A feme sole could sue and be sued, earn what wages she could, buy and
sell property, and will her assets to her heirs.”52 In some ways, then, she was able to take her
place as the head of the household, with unquestioned authority over her children and servants.
She made all the decisions and served all the roles that her late husband had served, except for
assuming his political or military responsibilities. (She paid taxes, but could not vote, participate
in town meeting, or serve in the militia.)53
Several Boylston widows provide examples of initiative and independent action. We have
already spoken of Abigail Harrington’s decision to keep school, take in boarders, and lease her
home as a schoolroom. In addition, as Canavan shows, she likely worked out a not-uncommon
arrangement in late colonial Lexington of agreeing to deed her house at her death to a younger
(usually family-related) couple in exchange for their coming to live with and care for her during
her remaining life-time.54 Lydia Mulliken, a widow with substantial resources, exercised several
creative and independent strategies for caring for her family. When her husband died, he had
been in the process of training his first-born son as a clockmaker. Nathaniel Jr. was 16 when his
father died; he had begun but not yet finished his apprenticeship. Lydia had a shop full of clock
maker’s tools, but no clockmaker to carry on the trade and to train Nathaniel. As a result, she
made arrangements with another clockmaker, Benjamin Willard of Grafton, to live in her
household and work from her shop, and likely to finish the training of Nathaniel Jr. Benjamin
Willard advertised in the Boston Evening Post and other papers in Oct. of 1768 that he “hereby
informs the Public, that he has removed to Lexington, to the shop of Mr. Nath. Mulliken
deceas’d; and Gentlemen that had dependence on him for taking care of their Clocks, may still
have the same Care taken by employing said Willard in Lexington.”55 By 1771, when Nathaniel
was nearly grown, Willard removed to Boston. Lydia put her second son out to learn the cabinet
making trade in Concord and sent the youngest to learn his father’s clockmaking trade from his
uncle in Bradford. When Lydia’s mother died in 1772, leaving her a substantial inheritance, she
invested in a tavern across the street. Lydia Mulliken demonstrated independence as a head of
household and capital manger and investor.
Death brought another opportunity for women to exercise their will – literally. Widows
and single women were able to write wills to specify how they wished their estate, such as it may
be, to be distributed. This is not surprising for women of substantial estate such as Lydia
52
Berkin, Revolutionary Mothers, p. 5.
All of this assumes, of course, that she had been left with adequate resources; if she had not, she would likely lose
most of what she had formerly enjoyed, including her home, household goods, and children, as we have discussed
previously.
54
Canavan, pp. 323-4. Note a similar arrangement: “In 1776, June 14, [Amos Locke’s] father sold to him, for the
nominal sum of 12 pounds, his part of the house and portions of several pieces of land in Lexington and Woburn. On
the same day, he gave his father and mother a lease of the same premises during their natural lives, and engaged to
provide them with good nursing in sickness and under the infirmities of advanced age until their death.” “Amos
Locke,” Read by Herbert G. Locke, Dec. 14, 1887. LHS Proceedings Vol. 1, p. 68.
55
Boston Evening Post, Oct. 31, 1768, Issue 1727, p. 4.
53
32
Mulliken. However, Lexington’s feme sole took marked interest in the distribution of even the
humblest items, demonstrating a desire to reward the love and dutiful care of favored family
members. Most Lexington fathers during this era were rather careful to work out an equitable
distribution among their children over their lifetimes; widows and single women apparently had
fewer qualms about showing favorites.56 Hannah Stone, for example, bequeathed almost the
whole of her estate “to my beloved daughter Tabitha Merriam . . . for the very great kindnesses
and care that she has shown me in my widowhood afflicted state and condition.” Likewise, Mary
Bridge in 1778 left the whole of her estate to her son-in-law, “in consideration of the love I bear
to [him] . . . for the many good offices and services done by [him] . . . in providing for me and
supporting [me] for a number of years . . .” Some women left extremely specific bequests of
small items of estate to favored friends or special daughters. Thus Lydia Winship in 1790
specified that her friend Dec. Jonas Hunt was to receive her great bible; Hannah Stearns willed to
her son’s wife Patty her porridge pot and flat irons and gave her youngest son her new bed
ticking, a pair of sheets and a coverlet. Abigail Bridge was quite specific about the distribution of
her wearing apparel: her son’s wife should have her riding hood; another daughter-in-law was to
receive a dark calico gown. It is noticeable how many women choose to leave their estate to
other women, and particularly to daughters or to unmarried sisters. Bethiah Lawrence, herself a
single woman who died at age 34, left to her sister, another single woman, not only her house
and land and all personal possessions, but the right to be executor of the estate, despite the fact
that she had other siblings. It is possible that women favored their sisters, daughters, and
daughters-in-law because they understood the great difficulty with which women gained control
of capital. It is also possible that they gave such specific bequests of personal property –
individual dresses or pots – because these represented to them the items over which they felt a
female propriety sense. A woman’s household goods, of all things, came closest to being her
legitimate possessions. Households goods almost always passed, from generation to generation,
through the female line; that women kept such careful control and accounting of them, even in
death, speaks not only to their importance in their lives, but to the truly paltry sense of ownership
and agency they possessed in most other matters of their lives.
There was one final way in which a woman might stake a claim to an independent
identity: through her religious belief. Women owned the covenant and were admitted to the
church as souls, and souls, despite their earthly status, were all equal before their God. The
listing of baptisms in Lexington’s church records is one of the few places where males and
females are represented equally. People sought baptism for their babies, regardless of sex.
Interestingly, during the excitement of the Great Awakening, women tended to join New
England churches in greater numbers than men; I have not yet checked the gender of people
admitted to Lexington’s church in the 1740s. A woman who did experience a religious
conversion also discovered an ironic form of self-empowerment. She was called to submit her
will entirely to God and to live utterly within his will. In this, the authority of God trumped the
authority of men, and women claiming to, or attempting to, live out God’s will might feel
empowered to challenge the contradictory mandates of husbands, resisting earthly commands or
norms that appeared to be in conflict with divine edict. I have found no record of Lexington
women challenging the authority of their husbands or magistrates based on religious conscience.
However, we should consider the degree to which women responded to preaching that called
56
This characteristic is noted in Suzanne Lebsock’s The Free Women of St. Petersburg: Status and Power in a
Southern Town, 1784-1860 (New York: W.W. Norton, 1985).
33
upon them to exercise a divine duty to defend their homeland from foreign oppression. We will
consider this in the next section.
The women of Lexington, then, had a complicated and conflicted experience of personal
dependency in a culture that called for independence. We have seen that in their everyday lives
women understood liberty as a family’s ensured subsistence (a viable farm), and the political and
economic self-determination of their husbands (through which, vicariously, women were
expected to realize their own best interests). Within these constraints, they followed various
strategies to pursue their own goals for material improvements, family well-being, and the
assertion of their own will, when possible. But how did they understand, experience, and pursue
liberty – how did they experience “patriotism” in the events of April 19th? It is to this question
we now turn.
III. Women’s Patriotism on April 19th in Lexington: Attitudes, Actions, Experience
We might expect, given Lexington women’s condition of dependence and submission
that they would have little enthusiasm for male rhetoric asserting natural and customary rights to
self-determination. At least we might expect some cognitive dissonance over resisting “slavery”
and oppression when they had so few liberties of their own. Laurel Ulrich claims that Martha
Ballard was not personally invested in Revolution; her life was too absorbed with the day-to-day
work of housewifery and midwifery to have time to support activities in the public sphere. If
Lexington’s women experienced ambivalence or disinterest, however, we see no recorded
expression of it. In fact, the women of Lexington express uncommon patriotism in their support
of and participation in provincial political causes in the decade leading up to 1775.
Why might this be so? Lacking written evidence, we can conjecture. We know from
demographic and economic studies that Lexington, like most towns in late colonial Middlesex
County, was experiencing a crisis of needs and desires. The town had run out of land to create
new farms for sons in the rising generation, so families had been intensifying their farm
production to increase surplus crops while also intensifying their artisan crafts production. They
were working frantically to generate the cash needed to purchase new land to the west and north.
The demographic/ecological crisis had produced a social crisis: as parents were no longer able to
provide for their children’s future livings, their authority declined. All this co-incided with rising
demand for consumer goods. With resources stretched thin, debt became a real and present
danger, and increasingly Lexington’s yeoman were losing their farms to debt. The women, no
more than the men, could not see the whole of this picture; what they experienced though, was
the sense of crisis and impending loss: loss of farm, loss of children, loss of their traditional way
of life and domestic authority. This very real perception of threat and danger gave teeth to the
rhetoric of tyranny and conspiracy to deprive them of their customary rights and livelihood.
Women supported the patriot effort, I believe, because they experienced and believed that there
was a real and present danger to their families, homes, and possessions.
There is another reason, I believe, why Lexington’s women responded so readily.
Lexington’s pastor was one of the most patriotic men in Middlesex, and for the past ten years he
had been preaching from the pulpit that his people had a sacred duty to safeguard their liberties.
New England was the New Israel, God’s chosen people, and God had blessed their ancestors
34
richly with land, prosperity, and freedom in reward for their faithfulness. Now that divine
inheritance was threatened – in part because this generation had fallen away in faith – and it was
their sacred responsibility to defend God’s New Israel from attack without, and purify worldly
desire within. If they should fail in this duty, they would face the wrath of God. Clarke also had a
knack for amalgamating contemporary political rhetoric, religious mandate, and the lived social
experience of Lexington’s farm folk into a powerful ideological justification—in fact,
obligation—to rebel. Articulating cherished ideals about the faith of their fathers and the virtues
of their inherited farming world, Rev. Jonas Clarke warned his flock of a looming conspiracy to
deprive them of both. Clarke preached resistance to Crown measures as a sacred duty to God,
ancestors, and descendants.
But why should Lexington’s women concern themselves with such matters? What role
had they played in threatening the New Israel? Women, it was thought, were behind consumption
habits. It was the pursuit of “vanities and temptations” Clarke claimed, that had led them away
from God, that had drawn families into debt, that threatened them now with the specter of loss.
Clarke urged his townsfolk to exchange their “fashionable dress” for the “white robes of
righteousness.” “The merchandize of wisdom is better than the merchandize of silver, and the
gain thereof than gold.”57 Clarke, like letter writers to Boston patriot newspapers, believed that
women had a holy role to play in the preservation of the New Israel by mending their ways and
eschewing imported finery for homespun simplicity.
Clarke was not the only one who believed that religion and politics were intertwined, and
that political means could, in fact should, serve religious ends. New England was a highly
providential culture. Everything that happened – from natural disasters to epidemics to political
strife – had a divine cause and a godly meaning. In the fall of 1774, Clarke preached openly that
the “present distressful times” brought on the Intolerable Acts were the consequence of the rising
generation – those youth who were more openly challenging their parent’s authority – having
fallen away from the ways of God. This providential view “obliterated the distinction between
religious and political acts.” Yet in translating the political crisis into a religious war, Clarke
created a legitimate role for women in patriotic activities. For though normally women stood
outside of political society, “yet in spiritual terms they were ‘Handmaids of the Lord,’” capable
of sharing in the defense of the land. Providential history posited an indirect role for women in
civic society, one that allowed [in fact demanded] them to contribute to the public good, without
leaving the domestic sphere.”58 Clarke’s weekly sermons included women, and exhorted them to
patriotic participation.
How did Lexington’s women participate? The non-importation boycotts of the late 1760s
and early 1770s gave them a direct opportunity to support the cause. In 1768, Lexington town
meeting adopted measures to promote frugality and economy – a step dictated by men, but that
would have to be carried out by the women who ran their households. Newspapers articulated
57
Rev. Jonas Clarke, The Best Art of Dress, Or Early Piety Most Amiable and Ornamental: A Sermon Preached at
Lexington to a Religious Society of Young Men, On Lords-Day Evening, Sept. 12th, 1761 (Boston: D. and J.
Kneeland, 1762), pp. 9, 18, 24, 28–29.
58
Laurel Thatcher Ulrich, “‘Daughters of Liberty’: Religious Women in Revolutionary New England,” in Women in
the Age of the American Revolution, pp. 211-13.
35
their role. Consider two letters in the Boston Gazette, a Whig paper to which Rev. Clarke and
Capt. John Parker both subscribed:
November 27, 1767 - Boston Gazette
To the LADIES of NORTH AMERICA
Ladies,
Relying on your good Sense and Candour, I venture to lay at your Feet a few well-intentioned
Sentiments, which tho’ in a plain homespun Garb, I hope will not offend. I am convinced that at
this present it is not only in your Inclination and Will, but also in your Power, to effect more in
favour of your Country, than an Army of an Hundred Thousand Men, and indeed more than all
the armed Men on this vast Continent. Can a Woman forget her Ornaments? Yes, I know she
can... Divine Heroism in your sex... hath often saved a Country when the dull ploding Wisdom of
man has been totally at a Plunge... All I think at present that can be reasonably be expected or
desired of you is to consent to lay aside all superfluous Ornaments for a Season -- after which
they shall surely be returned to you again with Interest. You shall be clothed in Purple, and
Scarlet, and Fine Linnen of our own, and with other glorious Apparel which, if possible, shall
add a Lustre to your native charms. Henry Flynt
December 24, 1767 - Boston Gazette:
Think not, American fair ones, that you are excluded from contributing a Part toward this public
Good - Your Country demands the Exertion of all your gentler Faculties. Scorn . . . such trifling
Subjects as Dress... But rather show you have Souls capable of feeling for the Miseries of your
Country, show that you will do every Thing to preserve it from Ruin; lay aside those Gaieties
which ill suit the Circumstance of your Country; wear nothing but what is manufactured in
America; this will be the greatest Encouragement to Manufactures and Industry, this will be
acting worthy your charming selves.
Thus women’s regular daily activities – to spin and weave or to purchase imported cloth,
to drink India tea or local herbal brews – became political acts. In Boston, women extended this
involvement to non-traditional behaviors, marching in political processions, harassing loyalists,
and signing non-consumption pledges.59 In other towns, witnesses noted women preparing food
for militia training, and “making cartridges, running bullets, making Wallets, baking Biscuit,” all
in support of the training bands.60 In Lexington, we know that the men at town meeting voted in
favor of non-importation and non-consumption, but we do not know if women signed or assented
to these pledges. We do not know how they supported their militia at training. But we do have
excellent evidence of their politicized support of “promoting home manufactures” through a
patriotic spinning bee.
The newspapers and Rev. Jonas Clarke had made it clear that women’s support was key
for a successful boycott of British imports, and in particular, of British textiles. This required that
they replace imported British cloth with home manufactures. The Whig politicians did not really
anticipate supplying all cloth locally, but the act of appearing in public in a suit of homespun
59
Linda K. Kerber, “History Can Do It No Justice: Women and the Reinterpretation of the American Revolution,”
in Women in the Age of the American Revolution, p. 19; Berkin, Revolutionary Mothers, p. xv.
60
Mary Beth Norton, Liberty’s Daughters: The Revolutionary Experience of American Women, 1750-1800
(Ithaca, Cornell University Press, 1980), p. 157. She quotes Ezra Stiles.
36
became a sign of Whiggish patriotism. The newspapers noted which prominent gentleman or
clergyman had been spotted in his suit of homespun. (Notably, Rev. Jonas Clarke, whose wife
was likely far too busy with her many young children to spin and weave, noted in his almanac
during this period that he had paid local free blacks Prince and Kate to prepare and spin linen
thread for him.) The women of Lexington joined in this patriotic demonstration of home
manufacture.
We know that the women of Lexington increased their spinning in response to this
political/religious impetus during these years. Some who apparently had not been accustomed to
spinning their own thread, began to do so. We know this because John Parker, the Lexington
militia captain, was also a wheelwright, and his account book records orders for spinning wheels
spiking from an average of two or three per year to a high of fourteen per year. And we know
these wheels were being used for “patriotic” spinning. The Whiggish Boston Gazette took note
of a Lexington spinning party of 31 August 1769:
Very early in the morning, the young Ladies of this town, to the number of 45,
assembled at the house of Mr. Daniel Harrington, with their Spinning Wheels,
where they spent the day in the most pleasing satisfaction: and at night presented
Mrs. Harrington with the spinning of 602 knots of linen and 346 knots of cotton.
If any should be inclin’d to treat such assemblies or the publication of them in a
contemptuous sneer as thinking them quite ludicrous, such persons would do well
first to consider what would become of one of our (so much boasted)
manufactures, on which we pretend the welfare our country is so much
depending, if those of the fair sex should refuse to “lay their hands to the spindle”
or be unwilling to “hold the distaff.” Prov. 31:19.61
This was not Lexington ladies’ only patriotic involvement. In town meeting the men of
Lexington resolved on Dec. 13, 1773, to oppose “the landing, receiving, buying or selling, or
even Using any of the Teas.” Moreover, they unanimously declared that they would treat “with
Neglect and Contempt” and would look upon “as an Enemy to this Town and to this Country”
any person who purchased or consumed any tea. And then, to advertise their united intentions,
the townspeople gathered their household tea, paraded to the town common, and committed all to
a giant bonfire.62 We should consider women’s role in this. The men resolved to destroy the tea.
However, the tea was actually under their wives’ control, as part of the stores to which mistresses
held the key. Lexington’s women had to consent to the seizure of their tea. Did they participate
in the communal act of processing to the Common? Was it men or women who threw the tea into
the bonfire? Were women present and approving? Given their previous displays of patriotic
fervor, I think it likely. A letter to the Massachusetts Spy declared, “The patriotic conduct of the
town of Lexington is a matter truly worthy the notice and imitation of every town in the
province, whose members are well wishers to the cause of liberty.” The praise was reprinted in
61
Boston Gazette and Country Journal, 16 October 1769, p. 1. Laurel Ulrich argues that these spinning parties were
not politically motivated, but were expression of traditional piety. I wholeheartedly disagree. There are dozens of
newspaper notices of the same sorts of spinning parties in other towns, all printed in political contexts, with praises
of women demonstrating such patriotic devotion and exhortations for other women to follow their example.
62
Lexington Town Meeting Records, 13 December, 1773; Massachusetts Spy, 16 December, 1773, p. 3.
37
newspapers up and down the East Coast.63 Lexington’s act occurred, notably, three days before
the Boston Tea Party.
Lexington Women on April 19th
What did the women of Lexington do on the morning of April 19th? Not surprisingly,
they looked after their womanly concerns: they tended to their families and their household
goods. Although a few women along the main road, such as Anna Harrington and her neighbor
Ruth Harrington, remained in their homes at first, most women secured their most valuable
household possessions and then got their children away to safety. After Capt. John Parker left for
the common at one a.m., his wife Lydia “took all the valuables and hid them in a hollow trunk of
a tree standing some distance from the house.” When she heard the rattle of musketry about
dawn, she sent her eldest son, 14-year old John Jr. to the top of a nearby hill to watch and give
the alarm should the British approach their farm.64 Widow Lydia Mulliken and her daughters,
who lived along the main road, heard the alarm and hurriedly buried the family’s silver and other
valuables in a wall near the clock shop, then fled to distant safety.65 Mary Sanderson also lived
on the main road, with her husband, her infant, and a four-year-old girl she was caring for. When
they heard the alarm, they gathered the children and, “taking such articles as they could
hurriedly collect and carry in their arms, by the light of a lantern [made their way] to a refuge,
the home of her father in new Scotland,” where her husband left her and continued on to the
battle.66 The Loring daughters scurried to hide the communion silver in a brush heap back of the
house before fleeing.67 Abigail Harrington, after sending her husband and son off to battle, took
the younger children “down a lane back of the house across a meadow to the old place on Smock
farm.”68 Nearly 60 years after the battle, it was remembered that the women “fled on the 19th of
April 1775 with their children to the woods, while their husbands were engaged with the enemy
and their houses sacked or involved in flames.”69 For some, the flight was particularly difficult:
four women were likely still in childbed after recently giving birth, and three others were within
a few weeks of delivering.70
Anna Munroe stayed in her husband’s tavern in the early morning of the 19th, with her
three little children and a guard – John Raymond, a lame man – stationed there by her husband to
protect his family and home. But in the afternoon, as the British retreated, she discovered that
she was once again in the path of peril. From her windows she could see them rapidly advancing
63
Massachusetts Spy, 23 December 1773, p. 3. Lexington’s tea bonfire was also noted in Boston Post-Boy, 13
December 1773; Boston Evening-Post; 20 December 1773; Boston Gazette 20 December 1773; Essex Gazette, 24
December 1773; and Boston News-Letter, 23 December 1773, as well as in newspapers in New York, New
Hampshire, Connecticut, Rhode Island, and Pennsylvania.
64
A. Bradford Smith, “Kite End,” LHS Proceedings Vol. 2, p. 102.
65
Elizabeth W. Harrington, “A Few Words for our Grandmothers of 1775,” LHS Proceedings Vol. 1 p. 52.
Canavan reports that she and her daughters went to Robert Munroe’s house, p. 353.
66
“George O. Smith, “Reminiscences of a Participant in the Occurances of April 19, 1775,” LHS Proceedings, Vol.
1, p. 61.
67
Canavan, p. 126.
68
Canavan, p. 138.
69
Obituary of Rebecca Harrington Munroe,” Daily Advertiser April 11, 1834
70
Sarah Marrett had given birth on March 13; Amity Pierce by Mar. 19; Sarah Reed on April 1; Betty White on Apr.
7. Women who gave birth within a few weeks of the battle included Dorcus Parker (before Apr. 30); Elizabeth
Estabrook (before May 7); and Lydia Harrington (May 22).
38
on her house. Gathering the family silver and her children, she fled out the back door of the
tavern. Her little daughter Anna, nearly five years old, passed on the story of that flight to her
grandchildren. Anna “...could remember seeing the men in red coats coming toward the house
and how frightened her mother was when they ran from the house. That was all she could
remember, but her mother told her of her very unhappy afternoon. She held Anna by the hand,
brother William by her side and baby Sally in her arms. As she ran from the house, one of the
soldiers started to fire on her, but an officer knocked his arm up and said. ‘Do not fire on a
woman.’ She could hear the cannon firing over her head on the hill. She could smell the smoke
of the three buildings which the British burned between here and the center of Lexington. And
she did not know what was happening to her husband, who was fighting, or what was happening
within her house. . . Anna’s mother used to talk to her of what happened on April 19th and she
remembered that her mother used to take her on her lap and say: ‘This is my little girl that I was
so afraid the Red coats would get.’”71
Early on the morning of the 19th, as news of the alarm spread, the women of the Mead
family fled to a place of safety, to Mr. Reed’s in distant Burlington.72 At the Clarke parsonage,
Dolly Quincy and the parson hid “money, watches, and anything down the potatoes and up
Garrett,” while mother Lucy Clarke dressed and bundled children into a wagon headed also to
Mr. Reed’s in Burlington.73 These women sought, as they were accustomed to, the company of
their sisters and neighbor women, gathering together for mutual support. Francis Brown’s widow
remembered that on the day of the fight, her house, somewhat off the main road, was “full of
women and children weeping. They hid their silver and mirrors and many other things in
Russell’s swamp beyond Munroe’s brook.”74 Josiah Smith’s house was also a refuge. “When
news of the advance of the British arrived April 18, 1775, many women and children took refuge
[here] until the struggle of the 19th of April had passed.” Hannah Smith, whose husband was in
the fight, went to the top of a nearby outcropping “where she could hear the rattle of the
musketry and the smoke of the guns. In the afternoon she saw the buildings burning . . .”75 The
experience must have been terrifying for all those women who could see, smell, or hear the
evidence of battle, and not know the fate of their husbands, sons, and fathers. Their terror was
heightened by wild rumors. It was even “reported that the slaves were about to rise and murder
the defenseless women and children.”76
The women, then, tended first to their children, then to the security of their prized
household goods. As the Rev. William Gordon of Roxbury reported to a friend in England
shortly afterward, “the inhabitants had quitted their houses in the general area upon the road,
leaving almost everything behind them, and thinking themselves well off in escaping with their
lives.”77 But how did they feel as they took part in the morning’s activity? Some women, such as
71
Carrie E. Bacheller, Munroe Tavern: The Custodian’s Story, Lexington Historical Society, date unknown.
“Dictated by Miss Carrie Bacheller, custodian of the Munroe Tavern since 1913,” p. 6-7.
72
Harrington, “A Few Words for Our Grandmothers,” p. 51.
73
Elizabeth Clarke, “Letter of Betty Clarke, April 19, 1841,” Proceedings of the Lexington Historical Society, Vol.
IV, p. 91-3.
74
Canavan, p. 136.
75
Smith, “Kite End,” p. 114.
76
“Harrington, “A Few Words for Our Grandmothers,” p. 50.
77
Rev. Mr. William Gordon, “An Account of the Commencement of Hostilities between Great Britian and
America,” May 17, 1775, American Archives, “Documents of the American Revolution.”
39
Abigail Harrington, apparently exhorted her husband and son to join in the battle. Young
Jonathan, the fifer that morning, later remembered that his mother, “one of the most patriotic
women who ever lived,” roused him from a sound sleep in the wee hours of the morning, calling,
“Jonathan, Jonathan! The reg’lars are coming and something must be done.!”78 There were
apparently other tales of women urging, egging, shaming their men into battle. “Women who
thrust their men into battle were displaying a distinctive type of patriotism. They had been
mobilized by the state [and church] to mobilize their men; they were part of the moral resources
of the total society. Sending their men to war was part of their expression of their surrogate
enlistment in a society in which women did not fight.”79 Perhaps, but there were undoubtedly
women who were terrified to have their husbands, fathers, and sons confronting the world’s most
powerful army. Anna Munroe, wife of tavern-keeper William, confessed the next day to her
husband, “I mixed my bread last night with tears coming, for I feared I should have no husband
when the next mixing came.”80What did Lydia Mulliken, who had already lost her husband, feel
as her oldest son, 21-year-old Nathaniel took the field? What were the women of the Loring
household feeling as Hepzibah’s two sons, the girl’s brothers, and Betty’s young husband and the
father of her infant went to battle?
Some women experienced the fight at close quarters. Anna Harrington, Daniel’s wife,
had not yet fled when the British arrived. Her husband and her father were on the field; her 14year-old son Levi was a spectator on the sidelines. If Anna watched the battle, she saw her father
fall; he was brought to her house, dead, and laid out there. As the shooting ended, British soldiers
entered her house and asked for “a pannick [pannikin – a small metal cup] that they might drink
at the well. ‘Have no fear good woman; we will not harm you,” they assured her.81 With her
father lying dead in her home, these assurances likely felt empty. Anna let Levi go to the top of
the next hill to watch the troops march to Concord, but took her other six children and fled to
Scotland – where she had the horrific duty of informing her mother that her father had been
killed.82 Next door, Ruth Harrington with her young son watched the battle, witnessed her
husband fall, and watched helplessly as he crawled to his front stoop and died in her arms.
If the morning of April 19th had been full of fear and flight for Lexington’s women, the
afternoon was full of horror and fury. As the Regulars returned through Lexington, they took out
their frustration on abandoned homesteads. As Rev. Gordon eloquently summarized,
You would have been shocked at the destruction which has been made by the
Regulars, as they are miscalled, had you been present with me to have beheld it.
Many houses were plundered of every thing valuable that could be taken away,
and what could not be carried off was destroyed; looking-glasses, pots, pans, etc.
were broke all to pieces; doors when not fastened, sashes and windows wantonly
damaged and destroyed. The people say that the soldiers are worse than the
Indians . . . 83
78
Benson J. Lossing, Hours with the Living Men and Women of the Revolution: A Pilgrimage (New York: Funk and
Wagnalls, 1889).
79
Kerber, “History Can Do It No Justice,” p. 22.
80
Custodian’s Story, p. 7-8.
81
Canavan, p. 120.
82
Canavan, p. 353.
83
Gordon, “Account of the Commencement of Hostilities.”
40
In attending to the experience of women in Lexington that day, we need to acknowledge
the critical role of their property losses. Two families, the Lorings and the Mullikens, had their
houses burned to the ground. The loss of their home, of course, was tragic, but it was particularly
tragic for women. These homes were filled with the material goods that they had produced,
accumulated, and stewarded. Women had a proprietary sense about their household furnishings.
In many cases, they represented a goodly part of wives’ marriage portions, or the portions that
daughters had been accumulating for their own households. Many household linens and other
textiles were either the work of their own hands or of their mother’s or grandmothers. Other
items, as we have seen, were the special bequests of their female ancestors. The destruction of a
house and its furnishings was a particular blow to the well-being and identity of women.
The women of Lexington catalogued and remembered their losses. Later historians could
recount them well. Lydia Mulliken, whose house and clock shop was burned to the ground, lost
everything except the silver that had been hidden in the wall behind her house. This included
anything that her grown daughters had prepared for their approaching marriages. Thirteen-yearold Rebecca Mulliken particularly mourned the loss of “a pocket which with great pride she had
embroiders with crewels,” and she often spoke of her regret at its loss in later years.84 The
women of the Loring family also lost everything, including all that they had accumulated for
marriage portions through their extra labor at tailoring and teaching. Particularly grievous for the
women was the loss of all household furnishing and every stitch of linens and clothing.85 Their
brothers’ inheritance, excepting the mansion house, was in tact for the land had not been
desecrated. But their portions were to come from household goods; from positions of comfort
they were reduced to utter destitution. The patriotic mother of fifer Jonathan, Abigail Harrington,
lost “an eight-day clock, clothes, books, moose-skins and other articles.”86 Mrs. Muzzy returned
to her home to find that the soldiers had broken her mirror, valuable crockery, fired bullets into
the wall and left the floor striped with blood.87 The senseless destruction of property was
doubtless an expression of frustration from the day’s humiliations on the part of the regulars, but
to Mrs. Muzzy it was a desecration of her domestic space and a deliberate attack on her personal
property. When Anna Munroe returned to her tavern, she found that the retreating soldiers had
eaten her freshly baked bread, broken into her supplies, and consumed spirits in the shop. When
they were ready to depart, they piled her furniture, including a mahogany table that had been part
of her wedding furniture, and started a fire in an attempt to burn the house down, though it was
extinguished by bystanders.88 Anna found the floor of the taproom “covered with blood and
pieces of household linen used for treating the wounded.”89 Most grievous, the neighbor whom
her husband had engaged to protect her and her home had been killed, shot in the back and fallen
in the yard.
84
Harrington, “A Few Words for our Grandmothers,” p. 52.
The Loring family’s losses are reported in the Journal of Each Provincial Congress of Massachusetts in 1775, p.
686. They included the “house, barn and outbuildings; all household furnishing and all the clothing for nine family
members; stock, grains, and farms tools, totaling £720,” in addition to the destruction of the dwelling itself, the barn
with all it tools, hay and claves within, the corn crib, cider mill and cider press.
86
Canavan, p. 138
87
Canavan, pp. 123-4.
88
See LHS Proceedings, Vol. I, p. lxxx.
89
Custodian’s story, p. 18.
85
41
To better understand the women’s sense of violation and outrage, we should consider the
degree of sanctity that English society had long attached to private abodes and personal property.
“House breaking” was a capital crime. To “break open” a private home was a grievous violation
of customary norms; to steal another’s property from that home warranted death. In the spring
and summer of 1773 a pair of thieves went on a burglary spree in Middlesex County. Jonas
Clarke recorded the thefts with shock and dismay – and exclamation points – in his almanac. His
own family was victimized. On May 22, he noted that his “house broke open, tankard and paper
box stole.” It was a shocking – and rare – occurrence. He advertised in the Boston Gazette, that
“the Dwelling-House of the Rev. Mr. Jonas Clarke was broke open, and the following Articles
were taken out,” listing the loss of his tankard, a pepper box, silver spoons, and tea tongs, and
offering a reward for information leading to their return. In August he noted again with dismay,
“Mr. Joseph Simond’s house broke open. His watch stole.” On Sept. 6 the papers noted that Levi
Ames had been captured and charged with the thefts; three days later, Clarke recorded that “Levi
Ames sentenced to death!” The following week, Levi Ames confessed to stealing Clarke’s goods
and brought them to him, but the confession would not spare him. Clarke went to visit the
condemned man in prison, but on Oct. 17 he noted, “Levi Ames executed!” I go into such detail
over Clarke’s trials to bring home what a heinous crime “breaking open” a home was considered.
The Rev. William Gordon was rightfully astonished by what he viewed as savage brutality; so
were the women of Lexington.
Here the best example is the story of Mary Munroe Sanderson. It was not until after the
British had retreated to Boston that her husband Samuel had been able to return to his own home.
Here, he “... found his house sacked, many articles destroyed, and their cow, a part of Mrs.
Sanderson’s marriage portion or dower, killed, and a wounded British soldier quartered upon
them.” “Toward evening, Mr. Sanderson went for his wife; and on learning of the depredations
of the British soldiers, she was greatly exasperated, declaring she would not return to harbor and
take care of the British soldier. She asked her husband why he did not ‘knock him in the head,’
saying she ‘would not have him in the house,’ and that she ‘would do nothing for him, -- he
might starve.’ But the town authorities said he must be taken care of, and he remained. The
soldier begged for tea; but she insisted he should have none, saying; ‘What shood I gie him tea
for: He shall hae none.’ And she gave him none til her father told her, if she had any to give it to
him, and he would make it up to her from his own stock...
“... Her earlier feelings of hatred for her country’s enemies continued in her old age. [She
exhibited] an excited manner and indignant tones whenever she spoke of them or their doings.
‘The Satanish critters,’ she said, ‘stole and destroyed everything in the house, and didn’t leave
rags enough to dress the wounds of their own man.’ When over 100 years of age, Mrs. Sanderson
described with minuteness many articles of her wardrobe and household goods which were
destroyed or missing, rarely failing to mention the cow, and that she was a part of her marriage
portion. So plainly was Mrs. Sanderson’s dislike of the wounded man shown that he refused food
or drink till first tasted by some of the family, evidently fearing that he might be poisoned. This
may be accounted for by the old lady’s reply when asked, ‘Well, grandma, what did you give
90
him?’ ‘Oh, I gae him all he wanted, and every now and then I gae him a divilish honing.’” Her
90
Smith, “Reminiscences,” p. 61-2.
42
gravestone is inscribed, “A witness of the first revolutionary conflict, she recounted its trying
scenes to the last.”91
Mary Sanderson’s rage speaks directly to the likely response of most Lexington women
to the depredations against their homes and the destruction or theft of their goods. Her keen
recollection of every article lost or stolen reflects her strong proprietary feeling towards her
domestic goods, and in particular those items that had been a part of her marriage portions. Any
attack on her home, her household goods, and her family was a deeply personal injury, and her
intense and long-standing animosity toward those who had perpetrated these crimes against her
speak eloquently to Lexington women’s experience of the day’s events.
Like Mary Sanderson, many Lexington women on April 19 were frightened and
aggrieved, then horrified and outraged. Political conflict had entered their domestic world,
violated their homes, stolen their household possessions and productions, injured and killed their
kin and neighbors. The event was experienced, and would be remembered, as a deeply personal
trauma.
In meeting this crisis, the women made use of those resources they had always relied on
for support: family and neighbors. They gathered together during the battle, nursed each other’s
wounded, and buried each other’s dead. In their deeply relational world, the women of Lexington
experienced and survived this crisis as they did all challenges, with the support and assistance of
female kith and kin.
How might women’s actions experiences on April 19th reflect or reshape their
understanding of liberty? They would likely have understood the events of the day first and
foremost in a providential light. They would have embraced the notion that protecting their civil
liberty was an essential part of protecting their religious liberty to worship freely as a covenanted
people. Their husbands, sons, and fathers were doing God’s work in resisting oppression and
defending the New Israel. They would have been strongly supportive of this effort, and they
would have seen the sufferings they endured as the sacrifices required of those who live
righteously. They might have taken comfort from knowing that their earthly sacrifices were for
the ultimate cause, and that their losses would eventually be addressed through the grace of God,
either through restoration or through consolation and eternal reward.
Second, they would have experienced the attack on their families, homes, and
possessions as a personal attack on their domestic sphere. This was an attack on their female
duties, rights and liberties. The rage and resentment demonstrated by Mary Sanderson is good
evidence of this response. As men defended their political rights as their liberty, women
defended their domestic rights.
Third, they would have turned to their traditional forms of support – kin, neighbors, and
townsmen – to survive the exigencies of the day, and they would have found strength in the
shared hardship and the shared comfort of those with whom they had traditionally shared these
bonds.
91
Francis Henry Brown, Lexington Epitaphs: A Copy of the Old Burying Grounds of Lexington, Mass. (Lexington,
Mass.: Lexington Historical Society, 1905), p. 124.
43
And, inevitably, the rhetoric and activism surrounding republicanism would have
eventually reshaped their understanding of their own duties – and rights – as women. But that
was for the future.
44
Bibliography
Primaries and Local:
Probate Inventories, Massachusetts Archives, Boston, Mass.
Tax Valuation of 1771, Cary Memorial Library
Depositions of Militia, 1775 and 1825
Lexington Town Meeting Minutes, LHS
Parker Family Papers, LHS
Lexington Church Records, LHS
Period Newspapers, Newsbank, American Antiquarian Society
Charles Hudson, History of the Town of Lexington, Vol. 1 and 2.
Proceedings of the Lexington Historical Society:
“Reminiscences of a Participant in the Occurances of April 19, 1775 [Mary Munroe
Sanderson], Read April 12, 1887 by George O. Smith. Vol. 1.
“Amos Locke,” Read by Herbert G. Locke, Dec. 14, 1887. Vol. 1.
“Kite End,” Bradford Smith, Vol. 2.
“A Few Words for our Grandmothers of 1775,” Elizabeth W. Harrington, Vol. 1.
“Letter of Betty Clarke, April 19, 1841,” Vol. IV.
Canavan Papers
Carrie E. Bacheller, Munroe Tavern: The Custodian’s Story, Lexington Historical Society, date
unknown. “Dictated by Miss Carrie Bacheller, custodian of the Munroe Tavern since
1913,” p. 6-7.
Francis Henry Brown, Lexington Epitaphs: A Copy of the Old Burying Grounds of Lexington,
Mass. (Lexington, Mass.: Lexington Historical Society, 1905
Rev. Mr. William Gordon, “An Account of the Commencement of Hostilities between Great
Britian and America,” May 17, 1775, American Archives, “Documents of the American
Revolution.”
Benson J. Lossing, Hours with the Living Men and Women of the Revolution: A Pilgrimage
(New York: Funk and Wagnalls, 1889).
Harris, Marc. “The People of Concord: A Demographic Study,1750-1850,” in Concord: The
Social History of a New England Town, 1750-1850. Edited by David Hackett Fischer,
Waltham: Brandeis University, 1983.
Secondary
Berkin, Carol . Revolutionary Mothers: Women in the Struggle for America’s Independence.
New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2005.
Breen, T. H. “An Empire of Goods: The Anglicization of Colonial America, 16901776,”Journal of British Studies Vol. 25, No. 4, Re-Viewing the Eighteenth Century (Oct.,
1986), pp. 467-499 or his later book, The Market Revolution: How Consumer Politics Shaped the
American Revolution.
45
Gross, Robert A. “Culture and Cultivation: Agriculture and Society in Thoreau's Concord,” The
Journal of American History Vol. 69, No. 1 (Jun., 1982), pp. 42-61.
Women in the Age of the American Revolution ed by Ronald Hoffman and Peter J. Albert,
Charlottesville, Va.: University Press of Virginia, 1989.
Kerber, Linda K. Women of the Republic: Intellect and Ideology in Revolutionary America.
Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1987.
Main, Gloria L. “An Inquiry into When and Why Women Learned to Write in Colonial New
England,” Journal of Social History Vol. 24, No. 3 (Spring, 1991), pp. 579-589.
Norton, Mary Beth. Liberty’s Daughters: The Revolutionary Experience of American Women
1750-1800. New York: Cornell University Press, 1980.
Ulrich, Laurel Thatcher. “‘A Friendly Neighbor’: Social Dimensions of Daily Work in Northern
Colonial New England, Feminist Studies Vol. 6, No. 2 (Summer, 1980).
__________, “Wheels, Looms, and the Gender Division of Labor in Eighteenth-Century New
England,” William and Mary Quarterly 60, No. 1, Jan. 1998.
__________, Goodwives: Image and Reality in Northern New England 1650-1750. New York
Vintage Books, 1980.
46
Women - Appendix
I. Jonas Clark’s Monthly Farm Labor from his Interleaved Almanac 1766-1775
January - Getting wood and Butchering
- getting wood from swamp, blowing logs, sledding wood
- killing hog(s)
February - Getting Wood, Butchering, Odd Jobs
- cutting, getting, sledding wood
- killing calf
- tapping cider, sweeping kitchen chimney
March - Town Meeting (Few farm chores)
- sledding rocks
April - Gardening, Plowing
- began to garden, gardening, finished gardening
- men here with teams plowing; breaking up; plowing [he did not own his own team]
- making soap
May - Plowing and Sowing Garden and Grains
- men here with teams plowing; breaking up ground
- planing/sowing: peas, garden seed, flax, corn, oats, barley, potatoes; sowed garden;
finished planting
- getting out dung
June - Weeding and Odd Jobs
- weeding corn
- moving dung to yard; carting dung and ashes
- fishing; building/making wall; cleaning chaise; whitewashing kitchen
- began to mow
July - Mowing, Reaping, Threshing
- began to mow, bad hay weather [rain]
- began to reap, got rye
- threshing wheat; threshing, cleaning up barley
- hilling corn, moulding corn
- sowing rye
August - Haying, Mowing, Flax Pulling
- mowed meadow, mowed little meadow, haying, finished haying, men finished haying,
fetching hay
September - Making Cider, Processing Grains
- making cider
- spreading flax, threshing rye, cutting stalks
- fetching mud from pasture
- making soap; whitewashing study, mending kitchen chimney, laying kitchen floor
October - Corn and Cider
- getting in cider/making cider
- gathering corn
-repairing house clapboards, painting house, repairing/laying hearths, cleaning chaise
November - Getting in Vegetables, Carting Dung
- took up carrots and vegetables
- carting out dung
47
Women - Appendix
- begin to bring my wood
- killed cow/hog
December - Butchering, Getting Wood, Carting Dung
- killing hog(s)/cow/ox
- began to bring wood, bringing wood
- carting dung
- cleaning chaise
II. Proverbs 31: 10-31
10
A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies.
Her husband has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value.
12
She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life.
13
She selects wool and flax and works with eager hands.
14
She is like the merchant ships, bringing her food from afar.
15
She gets up while it is still night; she provides food for her family and portions for her female
16
She considers a field and buys it; out of her earnings she plants a vineyard.
17
She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks.
18
She sees that her trading is profitable, and her lamp does not go out at night.
19
In her hand she holds the distaff and grasps the spindle with her fingers.
20
She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy.
21
When it snows, she has no fear for her household; for all of them are clothed in scarlet.
22
She makes coverings for her bed; she is clothed in fine linen and purple.
23
Her husband is respected at the city gate, where he takes his seat among the elders of the land.
24
She makes linen garments and sells them, and supplies the merchants with sashes.
25
She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.
26
She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue.
27
She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness.
28
Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her:
29
“Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.”
30
Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.
31
Honor her for all that her hands have done, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.
11
servants.
III. “Recipes” for salves and ointments from the John Parker Family Papers, Folder 13, LHS Archives.
get som goulden rood [golden rod] [illegible word] assorted malows [mallows]
and hy beteney molen [betony – medicinal herb]
and drink for your comon drink
---------------------------------------------------------------and anint [anoint] your payened plas [pained place]
with your ointmant
---------------------------------------------------------------and boyl your hi beteney
and planten and and [sic] desoult [dissolve] a
letel [little] alum in it and wash
your payned plas befor you
anint it as hot as you can bare [bear]
2 or 3 tims a day
IV. Lexington Widow’s Portions
48
Women - Appendix
Hepzibah Loring Allowance - 1783
6 bushels Indian meal
3 bushels rye
80 lbs pork, well fatted and salted down
60 lbs good beef salted down
20 lbs butter
40 lbs cheese
14 lbs sugar
2 lb tea
2 barrels cider
sauce & apples sufficient for her comfort
firewood carried into her room
Hepzibah Fiske Allowance -1804
6 bushels Indian meal
3 bushels rye
100 lbs pork
80 lbs of beef
30 lbs butter
80 lbs cheese
2 barrels cider
wood for one fire to door
6 lbs flax
2 lbs wool
6 lbs hogs fat
$15 for buying other necessaries
Dorothy Tidd 1773
6 bushes corn
6 bushels rye
100 lbs pork
70 lbs beef
2 barrels cider
1 bushel malt
4 lbs of good wool
10 lbs of flax
6 cords of wood, cut fit for the fire, at the front door;.
Each month, then, the widow would have to support herself on 1/2 bushel of cornmeal and 1/4 bushel of rye to bake
her bread, 12 pounds of meat (around 1/2 lb a day), 5 lbs of cheese (about 3 oz./day), 2 lbs of butter, apples and
applesauce, cider to drink, flax and wool to make her yarn, hogs’ fat for making her soap and candles, and a few
luxuries such as tea and sugar. It became increasingly common in the late colonial period for widows’ portions to
specify a yearly cash allowance to purchase those “necessaries” that she could not make at home. Not specified here
are products that the widow would be expected to produce herself: vegetables from the garden, dung hill poultry
with their meat, eggs, and feathers, herbs for medicines and dyes, etc. Probates show an improvement in the
quantity, variety, and seasonalization over the 18th century.
Sarah McMahon collected probate data on widow’s portion for the period 1620 to 1840. She concluded that
throughout the period, a comfortable subsistence was considered “a diet that was high in grains, with dinners usually
consist[ing] of a meat stew or pottage served with bread, pudding, or cake. Johnny cakes, hasty puddings, grain
porridges and gruels, and chunks of bread dipped in milk often satisfied appetites at lighter repasts.” Most breads
were made of a mixture of corn and rye flour until affordable wheat flour arrived from the west in the early 19th
century. The 18th century diet was heavy with meat proteins, mostly in the form of salted beef and pork, but also
including barnyard fowl, some fish and occasional game. McMahon points out that the availability of meat was
seasonal: fresh beef and pork could be had during late autumn slaughter, followed by salt meat until the barrel ran
out, usually in the summer. Together, beef and pork allowances “averaged 180 pounds by the time of the
Revolution and 200 pounds by the early 19th century.
V. Lexington Women’s Probates, Massachusetts State Archives, Boston, Mass.
Hannah Stone, d. 1729, widow – with an estate of £72
- self-identifies as widow and relict of Samuel Stone, he had died in 1703 at the age of 47. She lived on
another quarter of a century,
49
Women - Appendix
-
-
gives her granddaughter Abigail Stone, daughter of her beloved son 5sh
gives “to my beloved daughter Tabitha Merriam and her heirs forever, the whole residue and remainder of
all my estate whatsoever both within door and without, for the very great kindnesses and care she has
shown me in my widowhood afflicted state and condition. And who was my beloed daugher Hannah Stone
lately deceased was for about the space of ten years last past bereaved of the use of her reason and
understanding and was exceeding difficult to tend and the said Tabitha Miriam my daughter with her
husband Thomas Miriam were at a great deal of trouble and charge with me for attending upon her and I do
therefore for very good reasons and considerations thereunto give grant and bequeath unto the said Thomas
and Tabitha Miriam the whole of what in reason & justice I ought to be and may be allowed for my trouble
and charge in looking after my said daughter Hannah Stone for physick, attendence, and the charges of her
sickness and funeral.”
She had wearing apparel, part of house and barn, part of orchard, 2a pasture, 40 a of meadow, 1 ¼ a plow
land, 2 a waste land, 3 ¼ ac woodland
Ruth Bowman, d. 1754 Inventory and Will, aged 71
- widow of Francis Brown, d. 1744 who was in 1735 the wealthiest man in Lexington, known as Esq., owned
2 slaves
Inventory:
- inventory lists no debts, owns all personal property
- inventory includes one Negro man slave at £55 and one Negro woman slave at £35 (relative value of men
and women?); by her husband’s will of 1744 he directed her to take as her estate forever three negro slaves;
Baliss, Phillis & Pompey.
- Inventory includes livestock: one mare and a colt; 9 sheep/7 lambs; 4 swine/4 shoats; four cows
- Inventory includes substantial farm tools: horse chains & tacking, plow & plow chains, cart & wheelss,
broad hoe, 3 axes, sythes, snaths, tachling, dung and pitch forks, shovels, rakes, handsaws, salting tubs
- Her furniture: feather bed & stead, drawers, oval table, great chair and 6 black chairs, and 4 small chairs,
iron pots and hooks, and kettles, and dogs, and fireplace shovels, perter, brass candlesticks, lanthern
- Her supplies: barrels, caskes, beer kegs, cyder, tubs, churn, cheese tub, keelers, trayes, steelyards, hay, flax.
Will:
- widow woman, self identifies
- Brother Uriah Angier- £5; brother Oaks Angeir - £30; brother John Angier – silver tankard; to her brother
Amos Angier’s children, £5 each; to her brother Edmund Angier’s children £5 each; to her brother Samuel
Angier’s children £5 each
- Sisters Eunice and Sarah, all my wearing apparel
- And to John Angier, Eunice Angier, and Sarah Shaw I give all the rest and residue of my estate.
- Favored her two sisters and chose one brother to favor as well.
- Signed her name.
Ruth Robinson, d. 1759, widow
- her husband was aged 68 and in the 1st decile in 1750; he would have been 77 at this point, so this is her
likely age range
- self identifies as “relict of Jonathan Robinson”
- gives to the heirs of her beloves son Jonathan Robinson decased sum of 5 shillings to be equally divided
- gives to her daughter Abigail Bacon 5 shillings
- gives to her son James Robinson £2 14 4
- gives to her daugher Lydia Simons the whole remaining part of my estate both in money and goods that I
die seased of or what shall be on bond or what shall be due by heirship or whatsoever. Then she makes her
son-in-law Simons executor (possibly living with them?)
- she signed with her mark
Anna Parker, widow, d. 1760, Will
- estate not probated
- will self-identifies as widow
- 2nd decile in 1750
- signs her name
- sensible of the approaching change
50
Women - Appendix
-
to sons Josiah, John, Thaddeus, & Joseph £66 13 4 equally divided
to daughters Anna Smith & Deliverance Munroe and my beloved sons Josiah, John, Thaddeus and Josph all
the rest and resideue of my goods, wearing apparel and moveables whatsoever, except for gold buttons, to
be divided among sons.
Ruhamah Brown, Will dated 1764, signed with mark, died 1772, in 80s
- widow, but does not name herself as so – why is this not her identity?
- widow of Joseph Brown, died in 1764
- couple married in 1699; she was likely in her 80s when she died
- states she wishes to “set my house in order”
- her husband and her sons had been in the 3rd and 2nd decile in 1750; her husband was Deacon Brown. He
was 73 in 1750; b. 1677; she likely the same age.
- Children Ruhamah, who married Commee – to whose sons, her grandsons, she gives 6 sh 8p, and divides
all rest of estate eequally between 8 sons: Daniel, John, Joseph, Jonas, James, Josiah, Benjamin, William
Prudence Winship, widow, d. 1776, aged 51
- widow of Richard Winship who had died in 1768 aged 57
- 10 children
- “This may certify to those that are concerned that I settled the accounts between the widow Prudence
Winship of Lexington deceased and Nehemiah Estabrook of said town in the Year 1774 and that said
widow was in debt to said Estabrook something above three pounds lawfull money and I wrote an order
from the Widow in favor of Said Estabrook on my self to be discharged on a note of Hand which I have
against Said. Estabrook, which order is supposed was destroyed by the British Troops and I as a guardian
to one of the Heirs of the deceased Widow am willing to allow the proper part as I think it just. Witness of
my hand, Benjamin Hurd
Mary Bridge, d. 1778, aged 77
- widow, self identifies as such
- “In consideration of the love I bear to my well-beloved son-in-law Benjamin Merriam of said Lexington,
Yeoman, and for the may good offices and services done by the said Benjamin in providing for me and
supporting the said Mary for a Number of Years, I give and Bequeath unto him the said Benjamin Merriam
all the Estate that I shall die Seized of . .whether in Money, Bonds, Clothing, Household Goods etc.
- widow of John Bridge, 1st decile
Rebecca Munroe, d. 1778, widow – she was originally the wife of John Estabrook; secondly of Benjamin
Munroe. The children are all hers from her first marriage.
- widow, self- identified
- to my dutiful son John Estabrook, 6 sh
- son Nehamiah “and an equal part of all my estate with my daughters
- to my dutiful daughters Grace Hand? Prudence Winship, Millicent Harris, Abigail Hunt, Elizabeth
Estabrook and Anna Calder all my estate of any denomination
- so she divides her estate equally among all her daughters and one son
- signed with her mark
Anna Trask, d. 1781, (will made April 1768) widow, aged 89
- self-identifies as widow
- widow of Nathaniel Trask, d. 1753, 1st decile
- she has been a widow for almost 30 years and has not remarried; was wealthy and didn’t need to;
- She signs with a mark
- Children:
o Anna Robinson
o John Trask
o Mary – singlewoman
o Nathaniel
o Elizabeth Hill
51
Women - Appendix
-
o Lydia Morrill
o Hudson appears to have missed a son Jonathan, and a daughter Hannah
give to John 5 sh and all livestock
son Nathaniel 5 sh
children of deceased son Jonathan 5 sh
daughters Anna Robinson, Elisabeth Hill & Hannah Stearns all wearing appearal except gold necklace
equally divided
give to daughter Mary Trask (mf: singlewoman) my silver tankard and all my other household goods
and linen and all my money that I shall have or due to me
I give to my daughter Lydia Morrill 3 silver spoons and my meanest bed & furniture
Give to my granddaughter Anna Morrill my gold necklace when she come to ten years of age.
Makes her son-in-law Joseph Hill her executor
Abigail Bridge, d. 1785 aged 66
- widow of Matthew Bridge
- self-describes as widow
- makes specific bequests:
o son Thomas my red chest and silver spoon
o his wife, Mary Bridge, camblet riding hood
o my daughter Abigail Fox all the remainder of my wearing apparel
o son Jeremiah six shillings
o Daugher in law Eliot Bridge, dark calico gown
o Granddaughter Sarah Bridge, daughter of my son Joseph deceased, four silver tea spoons
o Children of my son Benjamin decased a state not for £6 and 3 sh, eqully divided
o Remember of my estate to my Grandson Jonathan Bridges, to him and his heirs, with Jonathan to
act as executor.
o Signs her name
Lydia Pierce, d. 1786 aged
- grandchildren testify that they heard her say she wished all her estate to be given to their father
- “We were then called to the Bedside of Lydia Pierce an aged Person who the lived and for several years
last just had belonged to the Ephraim Pierce’s family, who then lay there as we judged dangerously sick
and who did actually expire the same day. And the said Lydia Pierce, being alive and in our judgments
having the full use of her reason and understanding, desire and requested us to bear witness to her disposal
of her worldly good as follows, viz. I am willing that your father should have all that I leave, and I give it
all to him, only I would have him make my sister’s child a present to remember me by, and further we say
not.
Esther Winship, d. 1789, Spinster, aged 50
- self-identifies as spinster
- gives all of her estate to her brother Thomas and her niece Dorcas, both her beloved
- gives all my estate, whether in money, debts due to me, cattle, household goods & furniture, apparel, and
all other Estate equally divided, with Thomas as executor
- she had many other living siblings, chose these two, perhaps she lived with them.
- father was in 4th decile in 1750; brother Thos in 7th in 1774; her mother was still alive as a widow in 1774
and was in 7th decile
- she signed with her mark
Lydia Winship, d. 1790, aged 95
- 3 time married, survived all, last husband died 1776
- last husband, Samuel Winship in 2nd decile
- 11 children
- does not self-identify as widow, has been widow 3 times, last time for 14 years
- gives to friend Dec. Jonas Hunt or Stone her great Bible
- gives to son Joseph Simonds 5sh – having rec’d his share before
- gives to son John Simonds 5 sh – having rec’d his share before
52
Women - Appendix
-
-
gives to son Francis Simond and to children of son Jonathan Simonds deceased namely Lydia, Jonathan,
and Molly Simonds all the rest and residue of my estate consisting of Money, Household furnature, and
wearing apparel, to be equally divided between Francis and the heirs of Jonathan.
Makes John Bridge Esq. her executor.
She signed her name
Bethiah Lawrence, d. 1801, singlewoman, aged 34
- daughter of Bezaleel, 2nd decile
- self identifies as singlewoman,
- I give to my beloved sister Anna Lawrence of Lexington, singlewoman, all that my messuage or tenement
situated and lying in Lexington afsid together with all my other freehold estate whatsoever, real or
Personal , and also appoints her executor.
- She did have other siblings.
Hannah Stearns, d. 1804, aged 69
- self identifies as widow
- Ashaheal Stearns eldest son $20
- Patty Stearns his wife my porridge pot and Flat irons
- Matthew Stearns my grandson my silver shoe buckles
- Hannah Parker my eldest daugher my chaise and harness
- Elisha Stearns my youngest son my new bed tick and one pair of tow sheet and one yarn coverlid
- Hannah Parker and Sally Perry my daughters all my wearing apparel and my household furniture equally
divided
- Then all remaining divided – 2/8s estate to Hannah, 1/8 to each of 6 sons
No woman with a living husband writes a will or specifies the particular distribution of her estate – because nothing
belongs solely to her!
53
Section III: Youth
This paper will discuss the fabric of everyday life for youth and adolescents in 1775
Lexington and will consider the ways in which they may have understood the concept of liberty.
We will then consider the experience of a few selected youth on April 19th. This is an overview
for the purpose of re-interpreting the Buckman Tavern exhibit; it does not attempt to cover the
lives of colonial youth in full. For more information on youth in late colonial New England,
please consult the bibliography at the end of this paper.
Youth and the Structure of Society in Colonial New England – An Introduction
Although the biological process of growth and maturation is relatively consistent across
time and space, the social processes of coming of age and being initiated into an adult
community are culturally determined and vary. The nature of youth is understood within the
context of each culture’s social structure. The most important thing for us to keep in mind when
trying to recover the world of Lexington’s colonial youth is that they lived in a culture that was
strongly hierarchical and patriarchal, and by both measures they were to play subordinate,
submissive roles. In the province of Massachusetts Bay, one deferred to one’s betters and one’s
elders. The Commonwealth was not a democracy; it was based on family models of government
with the patriarch as master of all those under his roof. Patriarchal household authority provided
the model for political government. Even when government was re-formed in the early Republic,
patriarchal power persisted into the early nineteenth century. Although some have argued that the
availability of land weakened patriarchal power in early New England, in fact, the opposite was
true: the need to organize and control labor to turn frontier into farms actually strengthened
household authority. Patriarchal power was additionally strengthened by the province’s custom
of distributing new land by households, as well as by local inheritance patterns.92 In the
discussions that follow we should remember first and foremost that children and youth were
subject to and controlled by the head of whatever household they inhabited, whether that person
was their literal or figurative father. It will be helpful to keep this in mind as we consider the
ways in which youth likely responded to the rhetoric of liberty.
In the past fifty years, several myths about Puritan child-rearing have colored our
interpretation of colonial child-life in New England. The first was that Puritans maintained
emotional detachment from their offspring. Scholars asserted that theological views about the
inherently fallen, bestial nature of the unredeemed child -- combined with heartbreak of high
child mortality-- fostered a reserved and emotionally restrained style of parenting. They gave as
evidence examples of parental attempts to break a young child’s willful spirit, or the custom of
re-using a dead child’s name. These conclusions are unfounded. More recent studies have
confirmed that parental discipline of willfulness was rooted in a loving desire to secure the
child’s eternal happiness through salvation, and often cost parents emotional distress. The re-use
of names honored the dead child, and spoke to the culture’s regard for family connection over
92
See Carole Shammas, “Anglo-American Household Government in Comparative Perspective, “ William and Mary
Quarterly Vol. 52, No. 1 (Jan. 1995), pp. 104-44.
Mary Fuhrer, LHS Consulting Historian, Feb. 2012
54
individual differentiation. Anyone who reads the heart-felt poems of grief of Puritan poet
Edward Taylor at the death of his children, where he admits that God’s plucking of flowers from
his stem has nearly ripped the roots out with the vine, cannot doubt his emotional bonds to his
lost infants. Nor can Jonas Clarke’s grief on the loss of his first-born be questioned. When his
four-month old son grew gravely ill, the deeply troubled Clarke wrote to his parents: “I cannot
forbear informing you of our little Son’s Indisposition. He was taken poorly with a Cough the
beginning of last Week, though not bad at first, yet by the beginning of this it increased to be
something severe; However We do not think his Cough (or his Coff) his greatest Difficulty; - on
Monday last He was exercised with repeated Fits of sharp Pain, as we suppose, in his Head and
Bowells, which have followed Him at Times, ever since, by which He is greatly reduced... He is
dangerously sick, and, upon the Whole no Better but growing Worse, and We are not without
great fears of parting with Him before long. However God’s Power is sufficient; - His Ways are
just, I hope We shall have Grace to submit.” The sad missive was signed “Your dutiful afflicted
Son.”93 Little Thomas died soon after. Six months later, the couple baptized his brother, a
second Thomas.
A second myth, based on misinterpretations of early family portraits, was that children in
colonial New England were considered merely “little adults,” and that they experienced no
significant life-course transition from childhood to adulthood. It has been argued that they
followed a calm, steady, nearly imperceptible progress of growth in responsibilities throughout a
long and undifferentiated process of “youth,” -- from infancy to one’s mid thirties – when they
gradually assumed their place as heads of their own households and full members of their local
communities. In this view, the turmoil of adolescence with its distinctive subculture is a modern
phenomenon -- a creation of twentieth century ways of work, family, and modern. “In a stable
agrarian society, the range of occupational and religious choices open to young people was so
narrow as to preclude a period of doubt and indecision. One generation passed quietly into the
next.”94 More recently, this view has been overturned by scholars who have documented “a
distinctive Puritan subculture in which young people chafed under an oppressively long period of
family dependence and escaped to fields, barns and deserted mills in search of clandestine
entertainments.”95 Scholars such as Ross Beales have documented the appropriate expectations
and behaviors of children as they passed from infancy to childhood, an extended adolescence
usually referred to as “youth,” and finally adulthood.96 This view of adolescent development, I
believe, is corroborated by biological models of maturation, which link the period from the onset
of puberty to the completion of physical growth with a distinct hormonally-initiated phase of
heightened emotions, tendencies towards risk-taking, and more impulsive behaviors. Lexington’s
youth did not face the same challenges as today’s adolescents, but they did experience a period
93
Letter of Jonas Clarke to Capt. Thomas Clarke, Lexington, Oct. 26, 1758. Collections of the Lexington Historical
Society, Lexington, Mass.
94
Joseph F. Kett, “Adolescence and Youth in Nineteenth-Century America,” The Journal of Interdisciplinary
History, Vol. 2 No. 2 (Autumn, 1971), pp. 283-298 (quote from p. 285). See also John Demos and Virginia Demos,
“Adolescence in Historical Perspective,” Journal of Marriage and Family, Vol. 31 No. 4 (Nov. 1969), pp. 632-38.
95
Douglas L. Winiarski, “The Education of Joseph Prince: Reading Adolescent Culture in Eighteenth-Century New
England,” in Worlds of Children: 1620-1920 – The Dublin Seminar for New England Folklife Annual Proceedings
2002 Editor Peter Benes (Boston: Boston University Press, 2004), p. 42-3.
96
Ross W. Beales, Jr. “In Search of the Historical Child: Miniature Adulthood and Youth in Colonial New
England,” in Growing Up in America: Children in Historical Perspective Edited by N. Ray HIner and Joseph M.
Hawes (Urbana, Ill.: University of Illinois Press, 1985), pp. 7-24.
55
of turmoil and semi-dependence marked by a distinctive subculture of potentially risky, normchallenging peer activities.
The Four Stages of Youth
Today’s scholars pay more literal attention to the Puritan understanding of the “stages of
life.” This four-stage process of development was a product of medieval Europe’s fascination
with right proportions and special or magical numbers – in this case, the number seven. Thus, the
first seven years of life – a period marked by helplessness and reasonlessness, were considered
infancy. This was followed by a second period of seven years considered childhood proper, when
both reasoning and physical labor began. At fourteen, both boys and girls marked a rite of
passage into the era of “youth.” It was at this point that boys chose their life’s work and began
training either by laboring with their father on the farm or beginning an apprenticeship. Girls at
this stage mastered the skills of housekeeping and worked to assemble the household textiles and
goods that they would need to “go to housekeeping.” At 21, both boys and girls were considered
legally adults, though dependence on their father might extend until marrying or receiving their
inheritance.97
These stages correspond closely to the age of key transitions in colonial Massachusetts.
Age fourteen was considered the age of discretion for slander or sexual crimes such as sodomy;
for choosing guardians; for beginning an apprenticeship; or for entering Harvard College.98
During the period of “youth,” adolescents were generally admitted only gradually to adult
activities. At age sixteen, girls could marry and boys could join the militia. But most “adult”
actions, such as voting, serving on juries, making wills, selling or giving away (“alienating”)
family lands, were not allowed until the critical age of 21. Most did not make the spiritual
commitment of “owning the covenant” and joining the church until their twenties. The years
from 14 to 21, then, were legally and socially a transitional stage, a time of learning and
choosing those attributes that would mark their adult identity.99
Extended Semi-Dependence
But youth did not always end at age 21. Increasingly in the late colonial people, the youth
of Massachusetts were experiencing an extended period of dependence upon their fathers and
masters. This resulted from the demographic maturation of the eastern towns in the province. In
a local culture where most of the labor for the family farm was provided by offspring, the
population growth rate continued high, with on average three sons and three daughters per
family. As families grew, the availability of acres to provide farms for second and thirds sons
shrank. Land, as we have seen, was the measure of the man, the mark of an independent
existence, the condition of political participation, the measure of status. Thus, farm families
turned their energies to corporately producing sufficient surplus to trade for new acres to the
97
C. Philip Hwang, Images of Childhood (Mahwah, N.J.: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, 1996).
Beales, “In Search of the Historical Child,” p. 11.
99
Ibid, pp. 17-18.
98
56
north or west. They achieved their goals, essentially, by binding their sons to labor for their
fathers for a good ten years – between the age of sixteen and approximately 26 – with their
production or their wages during this time making a critical contribution to family resources. It
was this contribution that would enable the father offer to acres or marriage portions for all his
children. These five years of family labor beyond the age of maturity were, in essence, an
enforced extension of family dependence. The custom created an awkward period of semidependence and no doubt generated its own set of generational tensions and youthful
frustrations. But it was essential to the functioning of the family economy. “Without the greater
income generated by the labor of the children as they became young adults, there was no
guarantee that a family’s offspring would ever achieve independence. Lacking land or trades or
marriage portions, they might simply be absorbed into other households as servants or be forced
to eke out precarious existences as permanent wage laborers.”100 We should remember this
enforced dependence when we come to consider youthful notions of liberty.
It is this group, those young folk from approximately age fourteen to sometime in their
mid-twenties, that were classed in the broad category of “youth.” Each Sunday, Rev. Clarke
preached a third sermon in the evening to the youth, usually but not always addressed to the
young men. The behaviors, opportunities, and obligations of Lexington’s youth were a
troublesome thing then (as always?) to the older generation. Let’s see how this prelude to
adulthood shaped local ideas of liberty and bondage.
Youthful Work
What was the nature of work for Lexington’s children and adolescents? For the very
young, the chief work, supervised generally by mothers, was to learn submission to authority,
patriarchal, social, and religious. The business of learning self-control was considered essential
to future autonomy.101
Children up to roughly age ten (based on account books and diaries) mostly assisted
around the farm. Work at this young age was not generally gender segregated. Children of either
sex might be set to tending younger siblings, feeding poultry or swine, herding sheep, scaring the
birds away after sowing seeds, weeding the garden, plucking larvae, snails and other pests from
vegetables. They might be sent to pick berries or gather nuts. At harvest time they might carry
food or beverage to workers in the field, help bind cut grain into sheaves, glean the fields, and
assist in threshing or husking. During the autumn they might be called upon to assist in cider
making, boiling apples for “sauce” and putting up vegetables. In the winter, they could be
recruited to muck out stalls, carry wood, or gather kindling. In the spring, they could assist in the
task of spreading dung on the tillage fields. And year round they could be called upon to fetch
water, bring in wood for the fire, sweep and assist around the house.102
100
Fred Anderson, A People’s Army: Massachusetts Soldiers and Society in the Seven Year’s War (Chapel Hill,
N.C.: The University of North Carolina Press, 1984), pp. 33-4.
101
David T. Courtwright, “New England Families in Historical Perspective,” Families and Children: The Dublin
Seminar for New England Folklife Annual Proceedings 1985 Peter Benes, Ed. (Boston: Boston University, 1987),
p. 20.
102
Gloria L. Main, People of a Spacious Land: Families and Cultures in Colonial New England (Cambridge:
Harvard University Press, 2001), pp. 144-5.
57
Around approximately age eleven, gender-segregated work began, with boys following
their fathers and girls their mothers in the work on the land or in the house. Girls learned the
skills of housekeeping: turning the raw materials of the land into the goods the family needed to
thrive. They turned their hands to carding and spinning fibers, sewing, mending, and embroidery;
cooking and preserving; doing laundry; nursing and producing home medicines; gardening and
making candles and soap. Boys’ farming responsibilities grew with their physical strength. One
boy’s journal recorded his progress: at 11, he spread flax and cleared stalks; at 12, he hoed; by 13
he was carting and spreading dung; at 14, digging stones; by age 17 he was set to sawing wood,
and by age 18 he could manage a team of oxen. 103
But boys, of course, had other options as well. If they chose to learn a craft they could
have their father or guardian arrange for an apprenticeship. In this, the people of Lexington
followed ancient English guild customs of apprenticeship contracts. These contracts, sometimes
called indentures, were agreements in which both sides promised to supply specific goods or
services to the other. The master took the boy into his family, provided room, board, clothes,
instruction in a trade for a set period of time. The master also provided supervision, discipline
and family government, operating in loco parentis. In return, the apprentice owed to his master
complete obedience, loyalty, and all his labor for the specified term. This included whatever the
apprentice might earn for militia service or for working out for another man.104 Consider the
example of Supply Simonds of Lexington who was apprenticed to Thomas Barber of Boston to
learn the trade of cooper at age 14. He apparently stayed with Barber until he was nearly 21,
when he married.105 Note that the youth transferred to his master the obligations and dependence
also due to his father. While mastering their craft, these youth were yet being mastered or
governed. Unlike later city clerks, they were not “masterless men.”
There is no evidence of girls in Lexington being apprenticed. However, it was common
for both female and male youth in Lexington to “go out” to work. In these circumstances, a
family that needed extra household or farm labor hired live-in help, and the youth became a part
of the family. Their new master or mistress assumed the same parental rights and responsibilities
of their family of origin, while providing room, board, sometimes clothing, nursing as needed,
religious instruction, family discipline, and a wage. This practice was not limited to needy
families; even the wealthy sent their youth out. Some have suggested that this was a way to
ensure that parents would not spoil their children by over-indulgence. Rev. Clarke took in a
succession of young girls to live in his family and assist his wife when his children were young;
he paid them mostly in credits for textiles at local stores. He also hired Joseph Loring Jr. from
the years that Loring was 22 to 24 to live in his family and work his farm. Loring’s family was
quite well-to-do, but he may have enjoyed the “relative” independence of living away from home
and earning wages. He certainly enjoyed the social benefits, as at the end of his second year he
married the Clarke’s live-in hired female help, Betty Pollard. (The two were not yet able to go to
independent housekeeping, however; Joseph Jr., Betty, and soon their infant son returned to his
father’s household.)
103
Main: People of a Spacious Land, pp. 144-6.
Ibid, pp. 146-51.
105
Indenture of Supply Simonds to Thomas Barber of Boston, Feb. 21, 1785. Manuscript 868, Ledger Book W, p.
139, Lexington Historical Society.
104
58
Youth may also have considered schooling another aspect of their “work.” Massachusetts
had passed laws early on that required towns with 50 families to provide a reading and writing
school; towns with 100 families also had to provide a “grammar school.” Despite its name, the
grammar school was an “upper” or “high” school, where older students (almost always boys)
were instructed in Latin and Greek grammar, as well as other advanced subjects that they would
need for admission to Harvard. Lexington built its first schoolhouse on the common in 1715, a
“humble frame building with a huge stone chimney and fireplace at one end.” After 1727, male
students could attend grammar school there for free. Girls and younger boys attended “female”
or “dame” schools on the outskirts of town to learn reading and writing. After 1747, girls were
also allowed to attend the Grammar School. In 1761, the town rebuilt the center schoolhouse,
and this new building may have engendered some jealously, for the next several years town
meeting debated whether the grammar school should be held there or circulated around the outer
districts.106 Eventually the town fell into a rather regular pattern of holding the Grammar School
on the common and the reading and writing schools in the outer districts.
We cannot know precisely what was studied in Lexington’s schoolhouse, but the journal
of another Massachusetts’s youth gives some insight into what boys of this age read. Joseph
Prince was originally preparing to enter college, and his copybook reveals his interests. He
studied, of course, the required classic languages, along with the traditional subjects of rhetoric,
grammar, spelling, and penmanship. Not surprisingly, he read and notated mostly religious
books, probably from his father’s library, as well as texts on natural philosophy, world history
and geography. As he got older, he increasingly copied into his commonplace book meditations
on the fairer sex, instructions on the courtly arts, and love poems. He also showed a penchant for
books on wonders, the occult and astrology, and “bawdy jest books with salacious epigrams.”107
One other form of labor that deserves mention is youth service in the provincial armies.
During the long wars of empire in New England, Massachusetts repeatedly called for volunteer
enlistments, to be paid in specie. This, as we have seen in the paper on militia, was considered a
excellent way for youth to acquire capital to make a start in life. One thing we cannot know for
sure, however, is whether the bounties and wages were paid to the youth, or to his father or
master. In 1775, the wages for Lexington’s youth who served at Cambridge and Charlestown
were paid to their fathers or, if they were apprentices, to their masters. This serves as yet another
reminder to us of the prolonged semi-dependent nature of this stage of life.
Youth Culture
What evidence do we have that Lexington’s youth congregated in peer groups and
engaged in age-related behaviors? We know that teenaged boys at this time gathered to fish,
hunt, and trap together. Jonas Clarke’s boys went fishing and pigeoning, while buddies Solomon
106
These developments can all be traced in the Lexington Town Meeting Minutes, typescript, Lexington Historical
Society. They are also summarized in Alonzo E. Locke, “Early Schools of Lexington,” Proceedings of the Lexington
Historical Society, Vol. IV, as well as C.A. Staples, “Early Schools and School Masters,” Proceedings of the
Lexington Historical Society, Vol. II.
107
Winiarski, “The Education of Joseph Prince”, pp. 42-77.
59
Brown and Jonathan Loring knew a shortcut home on April 18th, “it being the hunting ground of
their boyhood days.”108 Many reminiscences are filled with teenaged boys “rambling” about
town together. Boys were also known to flock to public executions, college commencements,
muster days in nearby towns, and city festivals.109 The best known of these festivals was
Boston’s Pope’s Day, the annual observance each November 5 of Guy Fawkes’ 1605 papist plot
to blow up Parliament. This was perhaps the closest that Puritan Boston ever came to a carnival,
with many aspects that mimicked English medieval folk mummers’ plays. It was day given over
to Boston’s male youth, who put together wagon “stages” with puppets, effigies, and costumed
actors depicting popular villains past and present for a great parade throughout the city. A day of
grand theater and condoned rowdiness, the festival featured youths dressed as devils or
masqueraded as notorious women, unruly boys created a great din blowing horns, conch shells
and whistling, many drank, and inevitably a melee ensued. Youth from the north and south ends
of the town put together competing parades that met somewhere in the middle of the city and
each side set to destroying the other’s handiwork. As darkness descended, the youth became a
mob, using fists, clubs, stones, and brickbats to demolish the competition’s displays. This
sanctioned day of disorder was an annual rite for any youth who lived close enough to participate
in the fracas.110
Misbehaving teenaged boys were not uncommon in Lexington. They seemed to have
an especially difficult time controlling themselves during the long Sabbath meetings. When
determining where each family should be seated in the meetinghouse, directions were given “to
place the children where they may be inspected.”111 In 1757, the town took especial notice of
their rowdiness, advising that in order that “decency and good order be observed in and about the
house of God on the Lord’s Day . . . we advise that strict and special care be taken to prevent all
disorders among the children and youth in and about the Meeting House, as well as to prevent
their doing damage upon the grass and fruits of those who live nigh the Meeting House.”112
When this advice was given, Rev. Jonas Clarke was yet a young minister. He might have been
remembering his own youthful behavior; only a few years prior he had been a sociable,
rambunctious teen, fined for gambling and “for making tumultuous and indecent Noises.”113
Of course, boys shared many aspects of their youth culture with girls. In Lexington
during this era there were apparently tavern dances, and even the minister allowed his daughters
to attend.114 He would have been less approving of the examples of “youthful” behaviors that
ministers described in sermons haranguing the supposed collapse of good family government.
108
Clifford Shipton, Sibley’s Harvard Graduates, Vol. 13, 1751-1755 (Cambridge: Massachusetts Historical
Society, 1965), p. 210. I do not know where Shipton found this information. G.W. Brown, “Sketch of the Life of
Solomon Brown,” Proceedings of the Lexington Historical Society.
109
Main, People of a Spacious Land, pp. 152-4.
110
J.L Bell, “Du Simitiere’s Sketches of Pope Day in Boston, 1767,” Worlds of Children: 1620-1920 The Dublin
Seminar for New England Folklife Annual Proceedings 2002 Peter Benes, Ed. (Boston: Boston University, 2004),
pp. 209-217.
111
C.A. Staples, “A Sketch of the History of Lexington Common,” Proceedings of the Lexington Historical Society,
Vol. I, p. 20.
112
“Advice for Maintaining Order in the Meeting House on Sabbath, 1757” Manuscript 1440, Ledger Book A., p.
113, Lexington Historical Society, Lexington, Mass.
113
Shipton, Sibley’s Harvard Graduates, Vol. 13, 1751-1755, p. 209.
114
“He went fishing and pigeoning with the boys and let the girls go to tavern dances.” Ibid, p. 209.
60
Teen boys and girls, some ministers complained, were “very much addicted to night-walking and
frequenting the tavern.” They were “very frequently” gathered in “conventions of both sexes for
mirth and jollity, which they call frolics.” They “spen[t] away Days and Nights in Singing and
Dancings, and other youthful sins.” The ministers decried such “patterns of youthful behavior:
night-walking, frolicking, company-keeping, carousing, merry-meeting, dancing, and singing”;
these ministerial laments suggest a separate somewhat rebellious youth culture.115
Laurel Ulrich and Lois Stabler take this study of youth socializing in late colonial New
England a step further. Using the highly revealing diary of a New Hampshire man in his early
twenties, they uncover a regular culture of “sleeping over” during courtship, even during
courtships that did not conclude in marriage. They document the practice of bundling, of young
men “staying” or “girling of it” with young females. The scholars assert that this was not merely
courtship, but a form a sport, a type of socializing that developed in a world where neighbors
were always in each other’s kitchen, fields, haystacks – and bedchambers. They suggest that this
behavior is evidence of increasing freedom on the part of young adults, freedom from the
restraints once imposed by powerful social authorities. 116
This evidence fits hand-in-glove with that found by other historians of loosening paternal
authority and a growing assertion of autonomy on the part of late colonial youth in
Massachusetts. Some see a loss in parental control over the timing and choice of marriage
partners for their offspring.117 This, it is claimed, reveals an underlying crisis in authority. When
fathers no longer had land to distribute to their sons, they lost economic power to control their
children’s behavior. As male offspring took more control in regard to courtship and marriage, the
average age of marriage dropped. Female offspring asserted their autonomy as well. They
increasingly married out of birth order, and they increasingly came to the altar already
pregnant.118
Lexington’s youth were no exception. As Lexington fathers increasingly lacked the
resources to grant their sons farms nearby, their power to control the time and manner in which
their children asserted their autonomy declined.119 This slipping authority of the older generation
was visible in numerous ways. Lexington’s sons left home at an earlier age. Rebellious
Lexington youth flouted parental authority by adopting looser sexual mores. A third of all
firstborn Lexington children in the two decades before the Revolution were conceived out of
wedlock.120 A few scandalously bore one or more bastard children. The esteemed town father
Marrett Munroe had two daughters who never married, yet in the late 1750s and early 1760s bore
between them three fatherless children. They were not the only ones. In the decade before the
Revolution, Lexington’s young women were hauled into Middlesex County Court and fined on
115
Beales, “In Search of the Historical Child,” pp. 21-2.
Laurel Thatcher Ulrich and Lois K. Stabler, “‘Girling of it’ in Eighteenth-Century New Hampshire,” Families
and Children: The Dublin Seminar for New England Folklife Annual Proceedings Ed. Peter Benes (Boston: Boston
University, 1987), Pp. 24-47.
117
Daniel Scott Smith, “Parental Power and Marriage Patterns: An Analysis of Historical Tends in Hingham,
Massachusetts: Journal of Marriage and the Family Vol. 35 (Aug. 1973), pp. 419-428.
118
Courtwright, “New England Families in Historical Perspective,” p. 20.
119
Gross, Minutemen and Their World, p, 100 and Smith, “Parental Power and Marriage Patterns.”
120
See Appendix.
116
61
eight separate occasions for producing bastard children.121 No such thing had ever been recorded
in Lexington before 1765.
Rev. Jonas Clarke was alarmed as the promiscuous behavior of the young of his flock. He
preached a sermon directed to them, “especially levied against those sinful Pleasures and vicious
Courses to which there are so many and such strong and alluring Temptation in this Part of Life.”
His “young People,” he knew, were surrounded by “the alluring Snares, Wiles, and
Temptations,” and he feared lest they be “tempted and allured away from God and their Deity to
Sinful Pleasure and vicious Courses to their Shame and Sorrow, and finally to their Destruction .
. . .” He strenuously urged them to refrain and “choose other courses.”122
Sexual license was not the only way in which Lexington youth rebelliously asserted their
autonomy and flouted custom. They also married younger, chose more of their spouses from out
of town, and elected to name fewer of their firstborn after the family-honored name of its samesex parent.123 They claimed an active role in town affairs at a younger age, no longer ceding
deferentially to their elders.124 In short, in the years before the Revolution, the youth of
Lexington appeared “no longer content to labor patiently on the farm until their fathers let them
go.”125 The young’s challenge to traditional generational authority had unsettling effects on the
established social order.126
Youth Disorder and Divine Judgment
Jonas Clarke did his best to counter the prevailing mores and behaviors of Lexington’s
youth. In September of 1774, as the imperial crisis reach a head with the port of Boston closed,
town meetings banned, and General Gage refusing to call the Assembly into session, Clarke saw
a dire threat to the people’s liberty. The cause, he claimed, was their own iniquity. And in
particular, he blamed the depravities of the younger generation for the Lord’s turning away from
them in disfavor. For in the days of their forefathers, God had “delivered them out of all their
Troubles and wrought Salvation for them.” But “in this day of prevailing impiety and great
Degeneracy” the Lord’s anger waxed “hot against the People of this land.” For
. . . when this generation arose which knew not the Lord. . when this generation
came on to the State that had forsook the Lord God of their fathers and served
other Gods, alas how soon is the happy scene of Peace and Prosperity changed for
that of Perplexity, Shame, and Distresses. From being in Peace at home and a
121
They were Rachel Munro, 1765, Sarah Mead, 1767, Sarah Munro, 1767, Rachel Munro, 1769, Abigail Munro,
1770, Sarah Mead, 1772, Lydia Simends, 1774, Bethia Munro, 1775. Middlesex County Court of General Sessions
of the Peace, Record Books, 1761-71 and 1771 to 1790, Massachusetts Archives, Boston, Mass.
122
Rev. Jonas Clarke, “A Sermon Preached in the Evening to the Youth, Dec. 4, 1774,” In the Jonas Clarke Box 1,
Manuscript, Lexington Historical Society, Lexington, Mass.
123
See Appendix.
124
See Appendix.
125
Gross, Minutemen and their World, p. 76.
126
Lockridge calls this mid-18th century social turmoil an “opening” of society. He sees it as a release from the
strict patriarchal control of Puritan fathers over their extended families and an increase in economic opportunities
and mobility. Gross labels it a period of decline
62
Terror to their Enemies abroad, so they are delivered as Subjects of the anger of
God, which was hot against them, delivered under the hands of the Spoilers to be
spoiled. Yea, they are sold to their enemies and from being a free and independent
People are brought under the yoke of oppression. . . And this is what God’s
people may always expect when their children rise up against a generation that
knows not the LORD, when the rising generation are a generation that forsakes
the Lord and regards not his Works of Salvation to his people. And whether this
happens thro the negligence of Parents in the education of their Children or
through the heedlessness and perverseness of Children in refusing to hear the
Instructions of the Fathers and Instructors, it alters not the case, their character is
the same if they are degenerate, if they know not the LORD, if they serve other
gods, and prove ungrateful and disobedient and perverse. The consequences will
be the same . . . as their lusts, appetites and passions be a means of destroying or
at least of bringing the judgment of heaven upon all other People.127
Jonas Clarke preached repeated sermons to the young on their need to reform their behavior and
return in piety to the faith of their ancestors.
He invoked the Puritan rhetoric of generations, of each generation’s debt to its forefathers
and obligations to its descendents to keep the covenant and thereby keep God’s promise of
freedom, prosperity, and well-being in the New Israel. It was not merely a matter of rhetoric, but
a deep strain of Puritan faith, that these growing sins of the rising generation threatened the
security, liberty, and salvation of all. 128
Youth and the Rhetoric of Liberty
What, then, did the youth of Lexington think of the discourse on liberty that echoed
around them in the early months of 1775? On the one hand, they labored under the yoke of
patriarchy, bound to labor for their fathers for an extended period in order to win the inheritance
that would give them true independence. They themselves were not free. Like women, slaves, the
poor, and the non-resident, they were subject to another master. They had no say in their
government. They had little control over their work. They had no right to the fruits of their labor.
The rhetoric of throwing off the yoke of oppression might well have fomented the sorts of
rebellious youthful behaviors that were causing so much stress to the social order.
Yet, they still defined freedom as a landed ideal – independence was the ownership of an
estate that could provide for a family’s existence and the ability to establish and head one’s own
patriarchal household. Around them they saw threats to this ideal – not just in the form of
Parliamentary taxes and mandates, but in the debt, insolvency, and dispossession of their
neighbors. Would resisting and overthrowing established authority address these threats to their
own futures?
127
Sermon of Jonas Clarke, Preached at Lexington, No. 1205. Preached Sept. 11, 1774 at Evening to Young People.
From Judges 2,7. 10 &14. Jonas Clarke Box 1 #245 Manuscript, Lexington Historical Society, Lexington, Mass.
128
Glenn Wallach, Obedient Sons: The Discourse of Youth and Generations in American Culture 1630-1860
(Amherst, University of Mass Press, 1997), Chapter 1 pp. 11-32.
63
Finally, the rhetoric of liberty presented them with a fundamental paradox. For on one
hand, they heard calls to throw off established authority. Yet on the other hand, they heard
religious admonitions to cease their challenges and submit to their God and their fathers. The
language of liberty was a two-sided sword, and in the coming years the youth of Lexington
would have to decide which way – and how far – they were willing to cut.
64
Individual Stories of Lexington Youth on April 19th, 1775
Jonathan Harrington, Jr. (the Fifer) age 16
In the spring of 1775, Jonathan Harrington was approaching manhood. He was a lad of
median height, slender, with blues eyes and a fair complexion.129 He may have carried special
expectations as the first-born son, the eldest of four surviving sons (he had three older sisters as
well). He lived in a close-knit world, surrounded by kin, with grandparents, uncle, aunt, and
cousins clustered in the neighborhood around him. His next-door neighbor and probable friend
was Solomon Brown, whom he called “Sol.”130
The house was not overtly fashionable; it was an old, low structure with a lean-to,
probably a saltbox. In the eighteenth century it was plastered on the outside, and at some point it
was “improved” by being painted yellow. 131 If not fashionable, the house was nevertheless
filled with the comforts of prosperity - plentiful clothing, linens, some items of refinement – and
a library of books.132 Jonathan’s father had prospered, rising above his original calling as a local
blacksmith by marketing surplus produce and providing credit to his neighbors on interest.
At sixteen, Jonathan Jr. was old enough to do a man’s work on his father’s farm, or to
assist with the marketing trips to Salem or Boston. But his father apparently had other plans for
his first-born son. “It was the purpose of [Jonathan’s] father to give his son a liberal education,
and he was pursuing his studies at home.”133 According to his eulogist, Jonathan was studying
the Latin and other texts in his father’s library, probably in preparation for attending Harvard.
Jonathan’s father may have intended to purchase for his son an education -- and a move up in the
world. The elder Harrington hoped to provide his son with material goods and knowledge, a
means of social mobility.
In the year before the battle, life in Lexington must have been exciting for a teenaged
boy. Jonathan’s parents were both committed patriots. He called his mother “one of the most
patriotic women who ever lived”; his father served on Lexington’s Committee of
Correspondence.134 The increasing tensions and troublesome events of 1774 must have been the
subject of regular conversation in their home. The militia drilled on the common nearby, and
Jonathan decided to join them. Although he was too young to be in the militia proper in the
summer of 1774 (he called himself a ‘minute-boy’), he nevertheless taught himself to play the
fife and along with drummer William Diamond provided the music for the military drills.
129
Benson J. Lossing, Hours with the Living Men and Women of the Revolution: A Pilgrimage (New York: Funk
and Wagnalls, 1889).
130
As quoted in Lossing, Hours with the Living Men and Women of the Revolution, p. 5.
131
Canavan, Canavan Papers, p. 137.
132
Jonathan Harrington Sr., Claims for Damages on April 19th, 1775. Journals of Each Provincial Congress of
Massachusetts, May 1775.
133
“Address on the Occasion of the Funeral of Jonathan Harrington,” Author Unknown, printed document,
Accession Number 3730, Lexington Historical Society, Lexington, Mass.
134
Lossing, Hours with the Living Men and Women of the Revolution, p. 5.
65
In 1851, a writer interviewed the then nonagenarian Jonathan Harrington. Jonathan
recalled his participation on the April morning for the writer, or rather he recalled how he
remembered it seventy-five years later.
“Captain Amos [he misremembers the name] Parker’s company had drilled the night
before, for Sol Brown, our nearest neighbor, came from Boston at sunset and said he had seen
nine British soldiers walking toward Lexington. I went to bed at eleven o’clock [on April 18th]
and as all boys should do, I slept soundly. My mother... called out to me at three o’clock in the
morning, ‘Jonathan, Jonathan! The reg’lars are coming and something must be done.’ I dressed
quickly, slung my light gun over my shoulder, took my fife from a chair, and hurried to the
parade near the meeting house, where about fifty men had gathered and others were arriving
every minute.” By four o’clock a hundred men were there. We did not wait long, wondering
whether reg’lars were really coming, for a man darted up to Captain Parker and told him that
they were close by. The captain immediately ordered ... [William]135 to beat the drum and I fifed
with all my might. Alarm-guns were instantly fired to call distant minute-men136 to duty. Lights
were now seen moving in all the houses. Daylight came at half-past four o’clock. Just then the
reg’lars who had heard the drum beat, rushed toward us, and their leader shouted, ‘Disperse, you
rebels!’ We stood still. He repeated the order with an oath, fired his pistol, and ordered his men
to shoot. Only a few obeyed. Nobody was hurt, and we supposed their guns were loaded only
with powder. We had been ordered not to fire first, and so we stood still. The angry leader of the
reg’lars then gave another order for them to fire, when a volley killed or wounded several of our
company. Seeing the reg’lars trying to surround us, Captain Parker ordered us to retreat. As we
fled some shots were sent back. [William] and I climbed a fence near Parson Clarke’s house and
took to the wood near by. Climbing over, [William] fell upon a heap of stones and crushed his
drum-head. His hand was bleeding badly, and he found that a bullet had carried off a part of his
little finger. Eight of our men had lost their lives.”137
Jonathan’s memory differs slightly from earlier accounts in terms of who fired and when,
but most of his story corresponds with the depositions of 1775 and 1825. The valuable insights
he provides are his memory of how he, as a 16-year-old boy, responded to the events. That he
“played the fife with all his might,” that he and the other militia men stood their ground when
rushed by a superior, professional force of British regulars, that as shots felled men around him,
he and the drummer fled the field, leaping fences, falling, and fleeing into the woods. His terror
is palpable. He was very young, but, as his eulogist said years later, “... not so much a child that
he could not do the duty of a man.”
Jonathan’s family took the field with him that morning. One witness remembered that his
father was also in the engagement.138 Two of the men who died that morning were blood
relations to Jonathan Harrington. One, Caleb Harrington, who was killed as he fled the
meetinghouse after getting more ammunition, was close in age to Jonathan. Another, the
135
Jonathan Harrington misremembers the drummer’s name as “Joe.”
Lexington had no minutemen; this was their militia. Either Harrington misspoke or Lossing edited his words.
137
Lossing, Hours with the Living Men and Women of the Revolution.
138
Rev. Muzzey’s Recollections. Jonathan Harrington Sr. was in Captain Parker’s company and on his muster roll
for that morning, but other records do not include him among the 77 that took the field.
136
66
Jonathan Harrington they called “Junior,” lived next door to the fifer’s cousin, Daniel
Harrington.
The rest of the day was chaotic for Jonathan. If he returned home, he found that his
mother had “taken the younger children down a lane back of the house across the meadow to an
old place on “Smock” farm...” 139 Jonathan no doubt answered the second call to muster that
afternoon, as Capt. Parker rallied his troops to face the retreating British troops. The reg’lars
paused at the Monroe Tavern, not far from Harrington’s house, giving the British time to pillage
the Harrington homestead, steal anything of value, and break every window and sill before
leaving. When the family finally returned to the house in the late afternoon, they were surprised
by a British soldier who had lagged behind. As he ran out from a back room, the soldier was shot
and captured, though the story does not say by whom. Both Jonathan and his father were armed.
Curiously, the wounded soldier remained several years with the family.140
Jonathan’s duty as a fifer on April 19th was practically all the soldiering he would ever
do. He played the fife for Captain Parker’s company once more when a detachment went to
Cambridge from May 11 to 15th of 1775. But then, he explained, “... Father went to the war, and
I stayed at home to help mother take care of things, for I was the oldest boy. I played the fife
sometimes after that when the young men in the neighborhood were training for the fight.”141
Jonathan’s father, Jonathan senior, served for five months in 1777, guarding the line at
Cambridge with other Lexington militiamen.142
Though Jonathan did not serve again, nevertheless the war changed the course of his life.
When the British raided his house on April 19th, they carried his father’s library of books into
the road and burned them. Among the destroyed texts were the Latin books that Jonathan was
using to prepare for college.143 His eulogist explained, “... the ruthless hand of a hired soldiery
sacked his father’s house and, among other things, destroyed the books of the student. The
inconveniences of procuring others and the distractions consequent upon the Revolution, led to a
change in his plans and he determined to follow the vocation of a farmer. He has consequently
for this long period resided in the immediate neighborhood of these early scenes.”144
So Jonathan did not go off to Harvard, but stayed in Lexington to help his family during
the war. His help was needed. Within a year, his mother had died and his sister Anna married,
leaving Jonathan and his father alone to tend the farm and raise the three younger boys.
Jonathan’s father married the Widow Mulliken in 1777, but after living a month with the
Harringtons, she returned to her own brood at the Raymond Tavern. Later in 1777, the younger
Jonathan had to take charge of the household while his father was away at service. During the
139
Canavan, Canavan Papers, p. 138/
141
Lossing, Hours with the Living Men and Women of the Revolution, p. 11.
142
Hudson, History of the Town of Lexington Vol. 1, p. 427.
143
Levi Harrington deposed that “The British soldiers seized all his books, carried them into the road and burn them.
Among them were some Latin books, which were valuable to him as he was studying Latin at that time.” Account of
the Battle of Lexington as signed by Levi Harrington, Lexington Historical Society. Typescript, Cary Memorial
Library.
144
Lossing, Hours with the Living Men and Women of the Revolution, pp 5-6.
140
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war years that he spent at home, Jonathan junior acquired the skills of a cabinetmaker; by war’s
end, he was ready to set out on his own.
Sometime in 1783, near the close of the war, Jonathan married Sally Banks of Malden, a
marriage that lasted 64 years until her death in 1847. The couple built a house on land below his
father’s on Concord Road. Jonathan’s three younger brothers eventually built their houses near
his, keeping the Harrington clan intact. In addition to farming, Jonathan practiced his trade as
cabinetmaker. Years later, Rev. Muzzey remembered that as a boy he would visit Jonathan’s
cabinet shop, “... to us boys curiosity for such workmanship made his shop a favorite retreat.”145
When his father died in 1809, Jonathan inherited his one-sixth share of his father’s
substantial investment savings. He was becoming a man of some substance in Lexington.
Although never chosen a selectman like his father and uncle and his cousin Daniel, Jonathan was
called upon to serve as assessor repeatedly.146
Though Jonathan Harrington never went to Harvard, never became a minister or a doctor,
nor even a selectman, his moment fifing on April 19th eventually brought him more acclaim than
any professional service could have. He lived to be the last surviving participant of the battle on
Lexington common. People made pilgrimages to talk to the old hero. His funeral was attended by
throngs, who remembered that, “for more than a quarter century he has been looked upon by his
fellow citizens as a patriarchal patriot. The young and the old have alike paid him the homage
due from children to a father. Of late years, as the number of the worthies of Revolutionary
times diminished, the attention of the public has been turned more exclusively to him... We but
yield to the promptings of a sense of propriety and duty, when we leave for a while our ordinary
vocations, to pay by our presence here, a profound respect to the memory of such a man.”147
Rebecca Mulliken, age 13 on April 19th
In some respects, Rebecca’s young life had been harder than her peers in the years
leading up to April 19th, but in other respects, she was fortunate indeed. Rebecca was the sixth
child in her family; she had three older brother and two older sisters, and one younger brother. In
1768, when she was only five years old, her father had unexpectedly died of a heart ailment. Yet
her mother had managed to patch together a stable family life, bringing in a live-in adult male to
take her father’s place at the workbench and on the farm and to complete her then sixteen-yearold brother Nathaniel’s education. Two other older brothers were put out to apprenticeships, but
Rebecca and her older sisters Lydia and Mary, along with little brother Joseph, remained with
their mother at home.
If the loss of her father had made her young life difficult, yet her mother’s skill – and her
assets – had eased her load. The family’s farm was small – her father and her older brother
earned most of their living by making clocks. The trade had rewarded them well, and Rebecca’s
145
Rev. Muzzey’s recollections.
Hudson’s list of town officers, History of the Town of Lexington, Vol. 1.
147
Ibid, p. 6.
146
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grandfather had added to their resources by leaving the family a sizable inheritance. A smaller
farm meant fewer farm chores for the daughters. Instead of making the family’s butter, cheese,
and textiles, their mother likely purchased these goods with revenues from the sale of clocks.
The change freed significant time for the girls to devote to the finer arts, particularly to preparing
the textiles and fine embroidered items for their marriage portions.
The girls were likely looking forward to establishing very respectable households. The
recent inheritance by their mother of her parents’ household goods added considerably to her
own personal estate; Widow Mulliken was now in a position to supply her daughters with many
of the linens, kitchen ware, and furnishings they would need to set up households of their own.
And marriages, it seemed, were indeed on the horizon. By 1775, Rebecca’s two older
sisters, Lydia and Mary, were both being courted. According to one historian, eldest sister Lydia
was “a young woman much celebrated in Middlesex for her grace and beauty. Many a hopeful
swain had beaten a path to the Mulliken door, but Miss Lydia had pledged herself to Dr.
Prescott,” a young, handsome, and elegant physician from Concord who was a “high son of
liberty”.148 Seventeen -year-old Mary was being courted by Elijah Sanderson, a cabinet maker
who lived with his brother and sister-in-law only several houses away from the Mullikens.
The events of April 19th really began for Rebecca and her family with an interruption of
Miss Lydia’s courting. Dr. Samuel Prescott had come to spend the evening of the 18th with his
fiancé.149 The evening was destined to be eventful for the family was on the main road to
Cambridge and riders were continually passing bearing rumors of Regulars approaching. By
midnight, it was clear that something indeed was afoot. Rebecca’s eldest brother, Nathaniel,
joined the militia on the parade. Dr. Prescott took his leave of his lover, and headed home to
Concord. (On the road, he overtook Revere and Dawes and joined their mission to spread the
alarm. When Revere was captured, Prescott continued on alone and alarmed the Concord
countryside.)
We can only imagine what Rebecca, her sister, mother, and younger brother experienced
as they heard the sounds of the battle just down the road on the common. Nathaniel was in line
with the other militia on Lexington Common when the British fired. He escaped injury, but he
witnessed his uncle Robert Munroe’s death. He must have carried this sad news back to his
mother. Knowing that they were at war, Widow Mulliken and the girls secured the home the best
they could against the inevitable return of the Regulars from Concord. Elder sister Lydia hid the
family silver and valuables in a wall behind the house and covered them with brush. Then, as
Nathaniel headed off with the militia to meet the returning Regulars, Rebecca fled with her
mother, sisters and younger brother to take refuge in that area of Lexington called Scotland, in
the home of her slain uncle.150 Grief no doubt mixed with fear.
148
David Hackett Fischer, Paul Revere's Ride. Fischer cites Tourtellot, p. 100, but Tourtellot provides only the
citation for the “high son of liberty” quote.
149
Many sources quote this tale. However, I can find no evidence that Sanderson was there that night as will. This
mistake seems to have come from an awkwardly constructed sentence of Canavan, in which he says that Prescott
was courting Lydia that night and Sanderson was courting Mary. The “that night” in his sentence applies only to
Prescott. In fact, we know from depositions that Sanderson was on the road following the British troops from 10pm.
150
Canavan, Canavan Papers, p. 127. Many years later, Levi Harrington deposed that “mother Mulliken ran from
69
The house was left unguarded. Rebecca’s brother John, who lived as an apprentice in
Concord with his cabinetmaker master, followed the Regulars on their retreat to Lexington.
When the British paused to rest under the protection of Percy’s cannon, John stood on the
common and looked east toward his home. He saw “columns of smoke rising, and he knew that
his house was burning and the family would be homeless... Tears were rolling down his cheeks
when a cannon ball whizzed over his head and struck Dan Harrington’s porch.” 151
All was lost. The only items saved were the silver and valuables that Rebecca’s sister had
hidden in the wall, a musical clock, and a pair of silver buckles. Both of these last two were
stolen from the house by the British before it was burned and recovered by the family later.152
Rebecca especially regretted the loss of an elaborately embroidered pocketbook, because she had
“spent long hours embroidering it with crewels and it was very pretty.”153 The day would
produce other tragic results as well. Rebecca lost her uncle. The poor, lame, neighbor across the
street, John Raymond, had been shot in the back and killed at Munroe Tavern. Her sisters’
suitors, Dr. Prescott and Elijah Sanderson, both left to fight in the war. Dr. Prescott died in a
Halifax prison two years later, though Lydia waited faithfully for his return throughout the war.
Nathaniel also left to join the troops in a campaign at Cambridge.154 Within less than a year, he
had died; one historian claims his death was a result of the dreaded Camp Fever that traveled
wherever the army went.155
The loss of her home and all its goods was particularly devastating to Rebecca and her
older sisters. Its contents represented their inheritance and their marriage portions. Their brothers
would have trade skills, but the textiles and household goods which the girls had labored to
acquire all went up in smoke. The Journals of Each Provincial Congress of Massachusetts record
that the loss of “real and personal property belonging to the Widow Mulliken and her son,
destroyed and carried off in their ravages,” a mansion house and shop, furniture, wearing
apparel, and valuable clocks and clockmakers tools, totaling in value over 431 pounds.156 It was
a stupendous loss in any event, but particularly because it included the tools of one son’s
livelihood, and the personal property that would have made generous marriage portions for three
daughters.
Shortly after the close of the war, Rebecca would marry another witness to the events of
April 19th, Levi Harrington. But the effort to recover from her string of tragedies must have been
monumental for her mother, and they took their toll. A year later, in 1785, Widow Mulliken died
at 56.
her house over the hill where she remained until the troops had departed.”” Account of the Battle of Lexington as
signed by Levi Harrington,” Lexington Historical Society. Typescript in Cary Memorial Library.
151
Ibid.
152
The story of the recovery of the clock is told in several places. See Canavan p. 127, Harrington, p. 135. The
recovery of the buckles is in a statement made by Nathaniel to the Committee of Correspondence, 1775.
153
Lexington Historical Society Proceedings, Vol. 1 p. 152-3.
154
Hudson, History of the Town of Lexington, Vol. 1 p.
155
Fischer, (end of book - find page #). Fischer cites a history of Concord by Wheeler for this.
156
Journals of Provincial Congress of Massachusetts, p. 694.
70
“We do not appreciate the sadness and misery that came after the fight. The loss of
relatives, the gutting and destruction of houses was terrible. I shall not allude to this further than
to say that for years the fight was little mentioned, the memory of it was so dreadful. A
granddaughter of John Mulliken told me that she had seen him and Elijah Sanderson talk of the
fight in their old age and they rarely did so without becoming greatly excited, hands trembling
and tears streaming down their cheeks.’157
Solomon Brown – 18 years old on April 19th, 1775
For Solomon Brown, the spring of 1775, it was the “best and worst of times.” He was the
son of one of Lexington’s most affluent and prominent citizens, and grandson of the venerable
old Squire William Reed. He had grown up in a large and extended family, on an oversized
family farm, with the material comforts that rural prosperity could afford. But he was now
approaching manhood and the time when he would have to leave Lexington. The Brown family,
like most Lexingtonians since mid-century, followed the practice of leaving the farm to one son;
Solomon had many brothers, and he was not to be the inheritor of his father’s estate.
We cannot know whether Solomon looked forward to the next few years as a time of
excitement or dread. He likely knew he would receive money from his father and eventually
from the brother who inherited his father’s estate. These funds would allow him to set himself up
as an artisan, a trader, or a farmer on new land to the west or north. He would have opportunities
to explore, to speculate, to gamble, to make of himself what he chose. But he would have to
leave the security of family, farm, friends, and the community that had been his world. And now
he would have to make his way in a world that was itself teetering on the edge of violent,
unpredictable, change.
As a farmer’s son, Solomon would have followed the annual cycle of male farm chores.
Since the area of tillage was large and the herd many, there would have been plenty of farm work
for Solomon and his brother James. In April, the boys would have been occupied with plowing,
probably with their oxen teams. Also, with so many cattle, the Browns may have been taking
spring butter to market. We know that Solomon was returning from a marketing trip to Boston
on the evening of April 18th. (Many sources testify to this. Caravan includes the detail that
Solomon was returning “in a team.”)
Solomon eventually chose to become a grocer/farmer. If he wanted to apprentice to
another to learn the grocer’s trade, he would have begun that apprenticeship at about this time in
his life. The war may have interrupted his plans, or he may have decided that he already knew
enough about marketing from his experience selling his father’s cattle and farm products in
Boston. Or, more likely it was his experience in the war itself that shaped the future direction of
his life.
But all that lay in the future on the evening of April 18th, 1775. There are many records of
Solomon Brown’s actions on that night and the next morning. The most complete is given by his
157
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son G.W. Brown in a paper presented before the Lexington Historical Society in 1891. He
reported:
‘... Returning from Boston, where he had been to market, on the afternoon of the 18th of
April 1775, he overtook and passed on the road twelve men on horseback, who were riding very
leisurely towards Lexington. As he passed them the wind blew open some of their overcoats, he
saw they wore the British uniforms, and with quick perception concluded they were officers sent
out by General Gage on a tour of observation. Their presence at that time excited his suspicions,
158
and hastening he arrived at Lexington and immediately gave information of their coming. ..”
Hudson varies this part slightly, saying, “Having been to market at Boston on the 18th April,
1775, he returned late in the afternoon and informed Sergeant. Munroe that he had seen nine
British officers dressed in blue great coats, passing leisurely up the road, sometimes before and
sometimes behind him, armed, as he discovered by the occasional blowing aside of their
159
greatcoats.” Caravan also alters the tale slightly, saying that Solomon was returning in a team,
160
and was annoyed by men in blue coasts who rode sometimes behind sometimes ahead of him.
G.W. Brown then continued the story: “As soon as the officers passed through the
village, Solomon Brown and Messrs. Sanderson and Loring [this refers to Elijah Sanderson and
Joseph Loring Jr., both young men who, like Solomon, were in their late youth], members of
Captain Parker’s Company, were ordered out to watch their movements. Solomon Brown made
objections, having had his horse in use through the day, when Minister Clark replied to him that
he would be provided for, and soon led out his own horse saddled and bridled for his use. The
three men then started off on the Concord road in pursuit of the officers. On reaching the borders
of Lincoln, passing a piece of woods, they were surprised by the British officers who, with pistol
in hand, ordered them to dismount; their horses were taken and hitched in the woods and the
three men were escorted by three of the officers a short distance from the road to the south side
of a thicket of wood, where they were kept guarded by the three officers...” Solomon’s
deposition, sworn in Lexington on April 25th, 1775, picked up the story. “They detained us until
two o-clock in the next morning, in which time they searched and greatly abused us; having first
inquired about the magazine at Concord, whether any guards were posted there, and whether the
bridges were up; and said four or five regiments of Regulars would be in possession of them
soon. [Eventually, when it was clear that an alarm was spreading through the area, the officers
panicked] They then brought us back to Lexington, cut the horses’ bridles and girths, turned
them loose, and then left us.” G.W. Brown continued. “There being a bright moon and the
Lexington boys having a full knowledge of the location (it being the hunting ground of their
boyhood days), they started across the fields, making the distance much shorter, with the hope
161
that they might reach the village in advance of the officers, which they failed to do....”
When the battle broke at Lexington, “Solomon Brown went to the right across the
Bedford road and jumped over a stone wall. As he landed upon the ground a ball from the enemy
158
Brown, “Sketch of the Life of Solomon Brown,” Proceedings of the Lexington Historical Society.
Hudson, History of the Town of Lexington, Vol. II, p. 65-66.
160
Caravan, Canavan Papers, p 136.
161
159
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passed through his coat, cutting his vest. Another about the same moment struck the wall. He
then dropped down behind the wall until their attention was drawn from him. He then took a
circuit in their rear around the Buckman Tavern, where he supposed many of the company had
taken refuge, entered the back door, and on going over the house found no one ... He then went
to the front door and opened it, when to his surprise the rear portion of the enemy stood in his
front, the army having made a halt. No sooner had he stepped in the open door-way than a bullet
from an enemy’s gun struck the doorpost about midway. Another following it struck the door
near the top. He then stepped back a little, placed his gun near the muzzle against the door
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casing, aimed at an officer standing in the ranks of the enemy and fired.
Not waiting to see
the result he hastened through the house and out at the back door where he entered and made a
hasty retreat through the fields. Being discovered by the enemy, a shower of bullets went
whizzing by him until he had reached a distance of some forty rods, when he slipped and fell,
and although his clothing bore testimony of the close proximity of some of their bullets, not one
marred his person... Gathering up his gun and equipment and seeing the enemy had started on
their march towards Concord, he returned to the Common, where he met Abijah Harrington. On
relating to him his story they together proceeded to the spot where the enemy stood when he
fired, expecting to find a dead body or one mortally wounded, but was rewarded only with the
sight of two pools of blood on the ground...”
Solomon’s family home was damaged in the pillaging of the Regulars on their return
through Lexington. His father Benjamin submitted a “true and just account of the loss and
damage sustained by the wanton cruelty and barbarity of the British troops on the 19th of
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He claimed a loss of seven pounds in real estate, and 35 pounds in personal property,
April...”
most likely household goods carried off by retreating Regulars.
Solomon, like his father and brother, enlisted in the Continental Army. Solomon served a
three-year term in an artillery company in which he was appointed Sergeant. With many others,
he suffered the horrible winter of Valley Forge. In 1778 he received a commission as a
“Conductor of Military Stores” at Fort Schuyler, New York. He served until discharged at the
end of the war. He entered the war as a youth of eighteen and was discharged as a man of
twenty-six.
Solomon did not return to Lexington. It may have been his five years of experience
procuring military supplies that led to a postwar decision to go into the grocery business. He
settled briefly in the area of New York where he had served his commission. His son related that
Solomon started a “small store in a town then known by the name of Nine Partners in Duchess
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County, New York, where he married, continuing there until the spring of 1787.” He then
moved his wife and young child to a 300-acre farmstead in Vermont – only four acres of which
were cleared – with a log house for their home. “He continued his grocery business for many
years, clearing a few acres of land yearly, sowing it to wheat, transporting his wheat one hundred
miles to Troy, New York by team during the winter season, and taking back such groceries as he
162
Caravan says that Solomon later boasted that he was the first American to fire a gun in the Revolution. Caravan
believes he was the first to fire on either side. Caravan, Canavan Papers, p. 136.
163
Benjamin Brown, Claims for Damages, Journals of Each Provincial Congress, May 1775.
164
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needed to keep up his supply. During these years he was getting together material for building a
house ... In the spring of 1800 he put up a brick house ... which he lived to occupy and enjoy for
165
thirty-eight years, passing away in 1838 in the 82nd year of his age.”
Solomon, then, chose a frontier life turning forest land into fields, pastures, orchards, and
mowings. The cheapness of the unimproved frontier land allowed him to purchase an estate large
enough to provide for several generations. With resources from his father and skills from the
army, he was able to increase his prosperity by supplementing farming with local trade. He
eventually came to rival his father in wealth (with a fine brick mansion-house) and regard. His
son concludes, “Solomon Brown was a man of great energy and purpose, of the strictest
integrity, and relied upon and trusted by his townsmen, who looked up to him as advisor and
counselor, and who elected him to many positions of honor and responsibility.”
William Diamond, age 16 on April 19th
William Diamond was one of those rare individuals in 1775 Lexington: a young man
with no history in the town. And though he eventually married into an old Lexington family,
there was no land for him in the marriage portion, so William Diamond would have no future in
Lexington, either. He was one of a small band of transients, hired help or apprentices who
paused briefly in Lexington before moving on to a future elsewhere. But as the sixteen-year-old
drummer for the Lexington militia, William Diamond beat the drum that summoned Capt.
Parker’s troops to the common in the early morning of April 19th. By this opening act of the
Revolution, William Diamond set his name permanently in the annals of Lexington history.
According to a descendent, William Diamond was born in Boston on July 20, 1758, but
the Vital Records of Boston do not record his birth.166 What the Boston records do note is the
marriage of his mother, Sarah Lord, and his father, Thomas Smith Diamond, in November of that
same year, a wedding that belatedly legitimized young William’s birth. William’s father was a
mere 21 years old when he began his family. Young William was joined by a sister in 1759, but
his mother must have died shortly thereafter, for his father remarried Mary McClean of Albany
in September of 1764.
We know nothing of William’s early life in Boston with his father and stepmother. I can
find no evidence of his father’s occupation or their residence. Later in life, Thomas Diamond
was a participant in the Boston Tea Party, joined the Continental Army and became a
167
Quartermaster General, and was present at the surrender of Burgoyne.
By that time, however,
young William had long left his father and stepmother’s home.
165
Ibid.
Handwritten notes of Catherine Louise Diamond in the files of the Lexington Historical Society. An article on the
web that I can site only as tradition, as it gives no sources, claims that Diamond was born on July 20th of 1758. see
http://members.rogers.com/fredd/The DRUM.html
167
Obituary of Henry Diamond, files of the Lexington Historical Society.
166
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One source includes an undocumented claim that as an early teen William Diamond
moved to North Cambridge, lived with a family that ran a tavern, and worked at the tavern. This
is plausible, especially if his father were struggling. This source repeats a story told in David
Hackett Fischer’s Paul Revere’s Ride that a kindly British soldier taught William how to play the
different rudiments and the call to arms on the drum. Fischer says William knew the soldier from
Boston, rather than from North Cambridge, and cites manuscript notes in the Worthen-Diamond
correspondence at LHS. I have not been able to find those notes. But the tradition is several
times repeated that a British soldier taught a young William Diamond to play the drums before
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Diamond came to Lexington.
There is some discrepancy on when and why Diamond moved to Lexington and where he
lived. It would make sense that the young teenager’s father would send him out of Boston once
the port was closed, as work in the city became scarce and living conditions difficult. One
(unsubstantiated) web source claims that William was brought to Lexington at the age of
169
This would have been an appropriate age for young William
fourteen (1772) by Abijah Child.
to begin an apprenticeship. Or, he may have come to live with Child as hired help. Child was a
recently married man who was helping his elderly father-in-law, Benjamin Cutler, farm an estate
in Lexington. Child’s own sons were quite young, and it makes sense that he would have hired a
young laborer to help him with his farm chores. However, Child did not give notice to the town
selectmen that he had taken in Diamond as a laborer; Child had previously provided the required
170
notice when he took in a fourteen-year-old boy, Micah Hager from Lincoln, in 1768.
David Hackett Fischer says that William Diamond was nineteen years old and just
recently arrived from Boston in the spring of 1775. We know, however, that Diamond, like
Jonathan Harrington the fifer, was in his sixteenth year in 1775. (Had he been as old as nineteen,
he would likely have been recruited as a full militia man, rather than a drummer.)
LHS archivist Dick Kollen tells us that William Diamond was serving as an apprentice to
Thomas Fessenden of East Lexington in 1775, learning the trade of wheelwright. Although
Fessenden does not report William Diamond’s arrival in his household to the selectman, I
believe that Dick is correct. Fessenden was a young man with small children and a large farm to
run in the early 1770’s, and he would have needed the labor of a teenaged male. However, the
key evidence that supports the claim that Diamond was bound to Fessenden is the record of
moneys paid to Continental soldiers for their service. For the first several years of the
Revolution, the money due to William Diamond for his service is recorded as paid to Thomas
Fessenden. This would have happened only if Fessenden were Diamond’s master. For the first
campaign of eight months in 1775, Fessenden was paid five pounds for the service of Diamond;
in the second campaign of 12 months to New York, Fessenden was paid 12 pounds 13 shillings
for Diamond’s service. However, when Diamond signed up as a “six months man” in 1780,
168
The undocumented source is the web article cited above. This information is repeated in Fischer, Paul Revere’s
Ride, p. 180. Fischer cites as his evidence Worthen-Diamond correspondence at the Lexington Historical Society.
169
See http://members.rogers.com/fredd/The DRUM.html
170
See the Town Clerk’s Records, Town of Lexington, 1768.
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Fessenden did not receive his wages; by this point, the 22-year-old Diamond would likely have
171
finished his apprentice contract and would therefore have owned his own labor.
If Diamond had begun his apprenticeship when he turned 14 in the summer of 1772, he
would have been present to join and drill with the militia during their increasingly frequent
training sessions from the autumn of 1744 on. Capt. Parker ordered, and the town purchased, a
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drum probably for Diamond’s use in 1774.
Diamond would also have had a chance to get to
know his peers such as Jonathan Harrington, the fifer, Solomon Brown, and the other young men
who played a role on the common on April 19th. And, he would have had an opportunity to get
to know young Rebecca Simonds, whom he returned from the war to marry eight years later.
In the early morning of April 19th Captain Parker released his men to take shelter and
warm themselves, but warned them to be prepared to return “at the beat of the drum.” Shortly
before sunrise, Parker gave Diamond the command to beat the call to arms. The men responded,
drawing up in two lines on Lexington Common just as the British troops appeared. Several
historians of the battle claim that the when Pitcairn heard Diamond’s drum beat, he interpreted it
as a challenge, a call to battle. He ordered his men to stop, load their muskets, and proceed
double-step. It is possible that a bloody outcome was ensured simply by the beating of the drum.
When Parker ordered his men to disperse, the young fifer and drummer, Jonathan
Harrington and William Diamond, jumped over Buckman’s wall and got out of range.
Harrington recalled years later that as he and Diamond crouched behind the wall, he noticed that
the drummer’s hand was bleeding and they saw that the tip of his little finger had been shot
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off.
As we noted before, William Diamond left his master repeatedly in the next few years to
serve in the Continental Army. (At this point we should remember that his father was also
serving in the army during the Revolution.) “In January 1776 Diamond enlisted as a musician for
one year in Washington’s newly formed Continental Army. The roster reported that he was a
small man, five foot five inches tall and “dark” . . . He remained under arms until July 1777. In
July 1780, he was ‘raised’ by the town of Lexington to reinforce the Continental Army stationed
in New York.174 In 1781, Lexington, like most New England towns, was having great difficulty
recruiting men to serve. The local people were struggling, particularly with the rapid
depreciation of currency, to make ends meet. The promise of pay in currency that was soon to be
worthless did not lure many young men to reenlist. So the Lexington selectman offered pay in
more durable stock: cows. The selectmen promised five cows for each year served, and said that
men who served one year would receive five calves, while two years would net them ten twoyear old cows, and three years’ service would earn 15 three-year-old cows. William Diamond,
perhaps seeing a way to acquire the means to set himself up in life, took the selectmen up on this
171
See Hudson, History of the Town of Lexington, Vol., 1 p. 427.
Receipt for purchase still exists. Collection of the Lexington Historical Society. The purported drum is on display
at the Lexington Historical Society.
173
Caravan repeats this story on p. 138; it originally appeared in Jonathan Harrington’s’ reminiscences.
174
John P. Resch, Suffering Soldiers: Revolutionary War Veterans, Moral Sentiment, and Political Culture in the
Early Republic (Amherst, Mass.: University of Massachusetts Press, 2010), pp. 53-4.
172
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offer, and signed on to be a three-year man. We can imagine that he took this gamble in the
hopes of earning enough personal estate to persuade Rebecca Simond’s father that he had
sufficient prospects to marry. William Diamond was lucky; he survived till the war’s end,
returned to Lexington, and undoubtedly claimed his substantial herd of cattle.
With 15 cows and a record of honorable service, William Diamond apparently earned the
respect of his future father-in-law. Diamond and Rebecca Simonds were married March 6, 1783.
They initially settled in Lexington and began their family there. In fact, their first child was born
in September of the year they wed (perhaps another incentive for the prosperous Simonds to
allow young Diamond to wed his daughter). Other offspring followed regularly in 1785, 1788,
1790, and 1792. But there was little hope for obtaining any land in Lexington to support his
growing family or to provide for their future settlements. Rebecca had two grown brothers
waiting to take over her father’s middling farm of about 60 acres, and the husbands of her sisters
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were also jealously coveting her father’s estate.
So in 1792, William Diamond moved his
wife, his family and his cows to the “frontier” of Peterborough, New Hampshire.
The Diamond family continued to grow in Peterborough. At first, William worked both
as a wheelwright and a laborer in his new hometown, and after six years of saving he was able to
purchase 60 acres of wild land to turn into a farm. He was finally a yeoman – the definition of
liberty in his generation. Yet William never really prospered; he ranked among the lowest third
of his townsmen in assessed wealth.176 Still, the family persisted. William and Rebecca’s six
children produced many offspring. Five generations later, over 200 years after the family left
Lexington, obituary notices for members of the Diamond family were still mentioning their
connection to events on the common on April 19th, 1775.
Betty Clarke, age 11 at on April 19, 1775
Betty Clarke’s home had been full and busy for several weeks before the events of April
19th. On March 30, John Hancock and Samuel Adams arrived to stay with the family in
preparation for attending the Provincial Congress in Concord during the first two weeks of April.
As the Congress was meeting illegally and its leaders Hancock and Adams were considered near
outlaws, their stay at Clarke’s home may have put the family somewhat on edge. During the next
week, the family was joined by Betty’s great-aunt Hancock, who arrived with Dorothy Quincy,
her protégé and Hancock’s fiancé. Both women were among those who were leaving Boston for
the calmer countryside, as tensions in the city rose to troublesome levels.
Betty’s house grew yet more crowded and activity more intense on Saturday, April 15.
Hancock and Adams returned from Concord and found the Rev. Samuel Cooper, a known
patriot, and his wife had taken refuge there from his post as pastor of the Brattle St. Church in
175
When John Simonds finally died in 1812 his will was bitterly contested among Rebecca’s offspring. See the
Probate of John Simonds, Middlesex County Probate Record # 20420, Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Archives.
176
Resch, Suffering Soldiers, p. 54.
77
177
Boston. On Sunday the 16th, Dr. Warren sent Paul Revere to ride out to Lexington and inform
Hancock and Adams of troop movements in Boston. Revere reached the busy, crowded
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household, alerted the patriots, and returned to Boston in the evening.
Monday and Tuesday, the 17th and 18th of April, Betty’s house was the “nerve center” of
colonial resistance. Hancock and Adams remained, both using the home as a base from which to
organize the procurement of military supplies and equipment. On the 18th, an express rider again
visited the Clarke house, to inform the men that the delegates to the Provincial Congress were
summoned to return immediately for a reconvening of Congress. As the household settled down
on the evening of the 18th then, the nerve center buzzed with preparations for war, for
congressional meeting, and for the care, feeding, and bedding of at least four, perhaps six adult
guests in addition to the dozen or more regular residents of the house. It would have been a
wonder if Betty had been able to get to sleep.
If she did, she likely did not sleep long, for around midnight the household was roused by
Paul Revere, then William Dawes, both come to warn and alarm the community. Dorothy
Quincy was “not a little anxious”; we can only imagine how Betty felt as her house was
surrounded by armed guards.
At 4:30 am the drum beating the call to arms on the common roused the house again.
From the windows of the house, the battle could be plainly seen. Little Betty Clarke, who was
nearly twelve at the time, remembered the moment. “I... can see in my mind, just as plain, all the
British Troops marching off the common to Concord, and the whole scene, how Aunt Hancock
and Miss Dolly Quinsy, with their cloaks and bonnet on, Aunt crying and ringing her hands and
helping Mother Dress the children, Dolly going round with Father, to hide Money, watches and
anything down the potatoes and up Garrett.”
Her father, Rev. Clarke had three concerns as the British were giving their victory
“huzzahs” on the common. First, he had to get Hancock and Adams safely away from the British
forces. Dorothy Quincy Hancock later recalled that “it was decided that we go over to the
parsonage in Woburn precinct, where were trusted friends of the Lexington minister. We were
driven there in a coach and four, and found a welcome.” Worthen reports that “family tradition
says that Hancock’s carriage was accompanied by Betty’s older brother, fourteen-year-old Jonas
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Jr.”
Betty’s father’s second concern was the safety of his own family and of his home.
“Before the firing was over, Mr. Clarke gathered his family, and even as a stray bullet flew close
to them in the yard, most of his children were put into carts and taken away to a remote spot for
177
Edward Worthen, “Jonas Clarke of Lexington: An Account of His Life and Service to the Town, 1730-1805,”
(unpublished paper in the collection of the Lexington Historical Society, 1969), pp. 23-26. Clarke does not mention
Cooper’s arrival in his almanac, and I do not know how long the couple stayed or whether they were present the
morning of April 19th.
178
Ibid, pp. 26-27.
179
Worthen, p. 29.
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180
the day.”
But Betty was not with them. She remembered, “Grandfather Clarke sent down men
with carts, took ... all the children but Jonas and me and Sally a babe of six months old.” Mrs.
Clarke, Jonas (who had been sent to escort Hancock to Woburn), Betty and the little baby were
the only ones to stay behind. Perhaps they finished hiding the family valuables and securing the
home as much as possible while the British marched off to Concord. We can only imagine
Betty’s feelings as her siblings left for the presumed safety of Menotomy.
Jonas Clarke’s third concern was for the welfare of his flock. Two of the wounded men
were brought to the parsonage for shelter and treatment, and Betty may well have assisted in
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tearing linen and bringing bowls of water. Then the little remnant of family -- Betty, the baby,
her mother and father -- turned to the dead. Betty remembered, “Father, Mother, me and the
Baby went to the Meeting House, there was the eight men that was killed, seven of them my
Father’s parishioners, one from Woburn, all in Boxes made of four large boards Nailed up and,
after Pa had prayed, they were put into two horse carts and took into the grave yard where [Pa]
and some of the Neighbors had made a large trench, as near the Woods as possible and there we
followed the bodies of those first slain, Father, Mother, I and the Baby, there I stood and there I
saw them let down into the ground. It was a little rainy but we waited to see them Covered up
with the Clods and then for fear the British should find them, my Father thought some of the men
had best Cut some pine or oak bows and spread them on their place of burial so that it looked
like a heap of Brush.”
After the burial, the Clarke remnant apparently returned to their home as Captain Parker’s
company set out for Concord. According to Worthen, they stayed there and tended to exhausted
militiamen throughout the afternoon, as the British were pursued on their retreat back through
Lexington. “The traditional hospitality of the Clarke farm never failed even on that day of April
19th, for it became a haven for weary, thirsty and hungry men who had hurried from their homes
in the early hours of the morning, some from miles away. Many stopped at the house during the
day, at time in such numbers that they sat around on the floor, drinking the Clarke’s’ cider and
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eating brown bread and bacon with their fingers.” Betty likely was called upon to assist in this
nursing, nurturing, and comforting.
Finally, late in the day, after Jonas returned from Woburn, his father sent him “down to
Grandfather Cook’s to see who was killed and what their condition was.” Here Betty refers to
her mother’s stepfather, Rev. Cooke, whose home was the parsonage at Menotomy. When her
father had sent his other children off to this place for safety that morning, he had never dreamed
that he was putting them directly in the path of the retreating Regulars’ violence and destruction.
That afternoon as Betty nursed the wounded and exhausted in the parsonage, word must have
filtered back of the carnage to the east. We can only imagine Betty’s emotions, confronted with
the realities of battle wounds and the uncertainty of her siblings’ well-being. It wasn’t until Jonas
returned from his trek that they had any news. The parsonage in Menotomy had been damaged
and plundered, but Lucy’s kinfolk were unharmed.
180
Ibid., p. 31.
Ibid., p. 31.
182
Worthen, p. 32. I cannot find any source that corroborates this claim.
181
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It would be years before life returned to normal in the Clarke household. The remainder
of 1775 was one continuous trial for Betty’s family. Within two days of the battle, the British
had “shut up” Boston, as Clarke records in his almanac. This was especially disturbing for the
family because Betty’s older brother, 15-year-old Thomas, was trapped in the fortress-city with
his cousins, the Nicholas Bowes family. On May 1st, Betty’s father tried in vain to rescue them.
“Went to Roxbury with team, carriage, etc., to fetch brother Nicholas Bowes and family but was
disappointed.” It would be nearly three weeks more before he could write, “Mrs. Bowes and
children and Thomas Clark came here,” safely out of Boston. While Betty recovered one brother,
she bade farewell to another. Jonas cast his lot with Lexington’s militia. On May 5th Rev. Clarke
recorded that “Jonas went to Cambridge with Capt. Parker and part of our company.” Hudson
reported that Jonas served as the company’s fifer from May 6-10th at Cambridge. He followed
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this by signing up for a two-month stint at the Third Campaign, to Cambridge, later in 1775.
We do not know what Betty felt as her brother went off to war.
As the battle shifted to Cambridge and Charleston, life in Lexington did not return to
normal. Schools did not open, so Clarke’s children at first stayed close to home. By mid June,
however, Clarke decided that the town was not safe for his family, and he “sent wife, children
and bed to Hopkinton,” to live under his fathers’ protection. But within weeks Betty’s paternal
grandfather unexpectedly took ill and died, leaving her mother and siblings alone and
unprotected in rural Hopkinton. Sickness began to invade Lexington as well. From July to
October, an epidemic of dysentery, probably spread from the militia camps in Cambridge and
Charlestown, killed many of Clarke’sLexington flock, especially children. Betty must have felt
the surrounding mortality keenly. Her concerns were likely heightened when, in mid-September,
brother Thomas enlisted in the army. Her father did the best he could to assist the suffering in
besieged Boston, organizing his community to ship loads of firewood to the city and personally
sending cider and produce to Cambridge. “During the rest of [1775], the parson was a frequent
184
visitor to Washington’s headquarters and the army.”
We know that the events of Betty’s 11th year were seared into the young girl’s memory,
for 66 years later she could still relate them with clarity and emotion.
183
184
Hudson, History of the Town of Lexington, Vol. I, p. 424.
Shipton, Sibley’s Harvard Graduates, p. 215.
80
Bibliography
Primary and Local:
Probate Inventories, Massachusetts Archives, Boston, Mass.
Lexington Town Meeting Records, Typescript, Lexington Historical Society.
Lexington Church Records, Transcript, Lexington Historical Society
Sermon of Jonas Clarke, Preached at Lexington, Sept. 11, 1774 at Evening to the Young People.
No. 1205. Jonas Clarke Box 1 #245 Manuscript, Lexington Historical Society.
Letter of Jonas Clarke to Capt. Thomas Clarke, Lexington, Oct. 26, 1758. Collections of the
Lexington Historical Society, Lexington, Mass.
Middlesex County Court of General Sessions of the Peace, Record Books, 1761-71 and 1771 to
1790, Massachusetts Archives, Boston, Mass.
Depositions of Militia, 1775 and 1825. Journals of Each Provincial Congress of Massachusetts
Indenture of Supply Simonds to Thomas Barber of Boston, Feb. 21, 1785. Manuscript 868,
Ledger Book W, p. 139, Lexington Historical Society, Lexington, Mass.
“Advice for Maintaining Order in the Meeting House on Sabbath, 1757” Manuscript 1440,
Ledger Book A., p. 113, Lexington Historical Society, Lexington, Mass.
Claims for Damages on April 19th, 1775. Journals of Each Provincial Congress of
Massachusetts, May 1775.
“Address on the Occasion of the Funeral of Jonathan Harrington,” Author Unknown, printed
document, Accession Number 3730, Lexington Historical Society, Lexington, Mass.
Account of the Battle of Lexington as signed by Levi Harrington, Lexington Historical Society.
Typescript, Cary Memorial Library.
Diamond File, Lexington Historical Society, including”
Handwritten notes of Catherine Louise Diamond
Obituary of Henry Diamond.
Worthen-Diamond correspondence at the Lexington Historical Society.
Hudson, Charles.History of the Town of Lexington, Vol. 1 and 2.
Alonzo E. Locke, “Early Schools of Lexington,” Vol. IV
C.A. Staples, “Early Schools and School Masters,” Vol. II.
C.A. Staples, “A Sketch of the History of Lexington Common,” Vol. I.
Elizabeth W. Harrington, “A Few Words for our Grandmothers of 1775,” Vol. I.
“Letter of Betty Clarke, April 19, 1841,” Vol. IV.
G.W. Brown, “Sketch of the Life of Solomon Brown.”
Canavan, Michael J. “Canavan Papers,” Cary Memorial Library
Worthen, Edward . “Jonas Clarke of Lexington: An Account of His Life and Service to the
Town, 1730-1805,” unpublished paper in the collection of the Lexington Historical
Society, 1969.
Lossing, Benson J. Hours with the Living Men and Women of the Revolution: A Pilgrimage
(New York: Funk and Wagnalls, 1889).
Muzzey, Rev. Artemas. The Battle of Lexington, With Personal Recollections of the
Men Engaged in It. Boston, Mass.: D. Clapp & Sons, Printers, 1877.
81
Secondary
Anderson, Fred. A People’s Army: Massachusetts Soldiers and Society in the Seven Year’s War
Chapel Hill, N.C.: The University of North Carolina Press, 1984.
Beales, Jr., Ross W. “In Search of the Historical Child: Miniature Adulthood and Youth in
Colonial New England,” in Growing Up in America: Children in Historical Perspective.
N. Ray Hiner and Joseph M. Hawes, Editors. Urbana, Ill.: University of Illinois Press,
1985, pp. 7-24.
Bell, J.L. “Du Simitiere’s Sketches of Pope Day in Boston, 1767,” Worlds of Children: 16201920 The Dublin Seminar for New England Folklife Annual Proceedings 2002 Peter
Benes, Ed. Boston: Boston University, 2004.
Courtwright, David T. “New England Families in Historical Perspective,” Families and Children:
The Dublin Seminar for New England Folklife Annual Proceedings 1985 Peter Benes,
Ed. Boston: Boston University, 1987.
Demos, John and Virginia Demos, “Adolescence in Historical Perspective,” Journal of Marriage
and Family, Vol. 31 No. 4 (Nov. 1969), pp. 632-38.
Fischer, David Hackett. Paul Revere's Ride. New York: Oxford University Press, 1995.
Gross, Robert A. The Minutemen and Their World. New York: Hill and Wang,1976.
Hwang, C. Philip. Images of Childhood. Mahwah, N.J.: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, 1996.
Kett, Joseph F. “Adolescence and Youth in Nineteenth-Century America,” The Journal of
Interdisciplinary History, Vol. 2 No. 2 (Autumn, 1971), pp. 283-298.
Main, Gloria L. People of a Spacious Land: Families and Cultures in Colonial New England
Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2001.
Resch, John P. Suffering Soldiers: Revolutionary War Veterans, Moral Sentiment, and Political
Culture in the Early Republic. Amherst, Mass.: University of Massachusetts Press, 2010.
Shammas, Carole.“Anglo-American Household Government in Comparative Perspective, “
William and Mary Quarterly Vol. 52, No. 1 (Jan. 1995), pp. 104-44.
Shipton, Clifford. Sibley’s Harvard Graduates, Vol. 13, 1751-1755. Cambridge: Massachusetts
Historical Society, 1965.
Smith, Daniel Scott. “Parental Power and Marriage Patterns: An Analysis of Historical Tends in
Hingham, Massachusetts,” Journal of Marriage and the Family Vol. 35 (Aug. 1973), pp.
419-428.
Ulrich, Laurel Thatcher and Lois K. Stabler, “‘Girling of it’ in Eighteenth-Century New
Hampshire,” Families and Children: The Dublin Seminar for New England Folklife
Annual Proceedings 1985. Peter Benes, Editor. Boston: Boston University, 1987.
Wallach, Glenn. Obedient Sons: The Discourse of Youth and Generations in American Culture
1630-1860. Amherst, University of Mass Press, 1997.
Winiarski, Douglas L. “The Education of Joseph Prince: Reading Adolescent Culture in
Eighteenth-Century New England,” in Worlds of Children: 1620-1920 – The Dublin
Seminar for New England Folklife Annual Proceedings 2002 Peter Benes, Ed. Boston:
Boston University Press, 2004.
82
I. Presentment and Fines for Fornication – Lexington1748-1791
Middlesex County Court of General Sessions of the Peace - Records Books, Massachusetts
Archives, Boston, Mass.
1748-61- None
1761-71
Fines: These are all for fornication.
1. Rachel Munro of Lexington in the County of Middlesex, spinster, comes into
court and confesses herself guilty of the charge of fornication and says she
was delivered of a bastard child at Lexington on the first day of December
last (which child still living) and she charges Thomas Godding of
Lexington, cordwainer, with being the father of said child.... Date March 12,
1765. p.207 [Probably the daughter of Marrett Munroe, see #4 below.]
2. Sarah Mead, spinster, confesses crime of fornication resulting in birth of
bastard boy on June 30, 1767. P. 408, dated Sept. 13, 1768. p. 408
3. Sarah Munro, spinster, presented for the crime of fornication, resulted in birth
of bastard girl on Dec. 20, 1767. Pleads guilty and charges Wm. Swaney of
Charlestown. p. 491 [Sarah, either born 18 April 1746, the daughter of
William and Tabitha Munroe, m. 21 Nov. 1771 Oliver Barber; or born 23
Oct. 1743, daughter of Thomas and Elizabeth Munroe, m. [---] Dodge. See
Hudson Genealogy, p. 454.]
4. Rachel Munro, spinster, presented for the crime of fornication, resulted in birth
of bastard girl on Nov. 30, 1769. Pleads guilty and charges Benjamin Bodge
of Charlestown as father. Case dated April 2, 1770. p. 490 [Rachel,
probably daughter of Marrett Munroe, who shortly later sued Benjamin
Bodge in Ct. of Common Pleas. Rachel born 29 Nov. 1737, was 32 at the
time of daughter’s birth; died at Boston, “where she lived, unmarried
[Hudson Genealogy p. 453]
5. Abigail Munro, crime of fornication resulted in the birth of bastard girl on Oct.
27, 1769. Pleads guilty and charges Jonathan Peirce of Lexington. Case
dated Nov. 27, 1770. p. 521. [Abigail, probably the daughter of Thomas
and Elizabeth Munroe, m. [---] Brown, see Hudson Genealogy, p. 454]
1771-90:
Fines - Again, these are all fines for fornication:
1. Sarah Mead of Lexington in the County of Middlesex, spinster, being presented
for the crime of fornication on file comes into the court and pleads guilty
and says she was delivered of a bastard female child born of her body in
Lexington aforesaid on the 13th day of January last, which child is still
living, and she charges Thomas Nunning of Bedford in the same County,
husbandman, with being the father of said child... Sept. 8, 1772. p. 47
2. Lydia Simends of Lexington in the County of Middlesex, spinster, comes into
court and confesses she has been guilty of the crime of fornication at said
Woburn... whereof she there afterward had a bastard male child born of her
83
body on the 15th day of September last which child is still living. The
court having considered her offense ordered that the said Lydia five
shillings to be disposed of as the law directs and that she pay fees and
costs, standing committed til performed. March 8, 1774. p. 113. [Lydia
Simonds is the eldest daughter of John Simonds, and the older sister of the
Rebecca Simonds who married William Diamond. She remains single.
Lydia’s brother-in-law sued in probate court to overturn her father’s will,
which he felt was too favorably disposed to the eldest son. See Probate of
John Simonds. This was not a happy family.]
3. Bethia Munro of Lexington in the County of Middlesex, single woman, comes
into the court and confesses she has been guilty of the crime of fornication
in said Lexington whereof she there afterwards had a bastard male child
born of her body on the 24th day of February 1775 which child is still
living and she charges Samuel Bowman of said Lexington with being the
father of said child. The Court orders that Bethia Munro pay a fine of six
shillings to be disposed of as the law directs and that she pay fees and
costs, standing committed til performed. p. 164 [Bethia, daughter of
Marrett Munroe, b. 1753, died unmarried at Bellows Falls, Vt, 1846. See
Hudson Genealogy, p. 454]
II. Evidence of Youthful/Generational Rebelliousness
Premarital Pregnancy Couples married in Lexington between 1755-1775, in which at least one of the pair
was from Lexington, and for whom the date of birth of first-born is known. Premarital pregnancy is
indicated when the date of birth was less than 9 months after the date of marriage.
Premarital Pregnancy in Lexington, 1755-1775
Yes
No
Total
Yes
No
Total
Frequency
23
51
74
Percent
31.1
68.9
100
Premarital Pregnancy in Lexington 1700-1710
Frequency
Percent
6
18.6
28
82.4
34
100
Source: Vital Records of Lexington, Mass. through 1898, (Wright & Potter Printing Co., 1898).
F. Marriage Cohort comparison 1700-1720 vs. 1755-1775
Average age at first marriage, 1755-75, where age at first marriage is known
Males
Average Age
26.3
N
126
84
Females
22.0
112
Average age at first marriage, 1700-1720, where age at first marriage is known
Average Age
25.1
20.8
Males
Females
N
36
35
Marital Couples’ Towns of Residence
In 1700 to 1720, 29 couples or 63% had both bride & groom from Lexington; 37% with an out-of-town
spouse. In 1755-1775, 54 couples or 39% had both bridge & groom from Lexington.
Source: Vital Records of Lexington, Mass. through 1898, (Wright & Potter Printing Co., 1898).
G. Deference in Election of Lexington Selectmen
Lexington: Percentage of Selectmen by Age Bracket over Time
1745-1755
1769-1779
70+
2%
0
60-69
31%
9%
50-59
53%
52%
40-49
12%
33%
30-39
2%
6%
20-29
0
0
Sources: Charles Hudson, History of Lexington, Vol. I and Vital Records of Lexington, Mass.
through 1898, (Wright & Potter Printing Co., 1898
85
Section IV: Militia
This paper will discuss the nature and changing roles of the militia in colonial Lexington
and then consider the experience of a selected militia member on April 19th, 1775. This is an
overview for the purpose of re-interpreting the Buckman Tavern exhibit; it does not attempt to
cover colonial militia in full. For more information on militia in New England, please consult the
bibliography at the end of this paper.
I. The Origin and Nature of Lexington’s Militia Company
The men who gathered on Lexington Common in the early morning of April 19 were not
a spontaneous rising of irate farmers. Trained town militia companies were a long-standing facet
of colonial life in Massachusetts Bay. Before the Puritans first voyaged to the New World, they
had begun to plan for the defense of their settlements against hostile native inhabitants. On
arriving, the first General Court mandated that each town enlist all able-bodied men from 16 to
60 in militia companies, for “our safety and peace [cannot] be preserved without military order
and officers.”185 All members of these early militia were required to possess arms and to gather
to train in military arts once a week. The responsibility for training fell on the company’s elected
officers, who were supposed to master and teach a complicated set of commands and maneuvers
for combat. Their goal was to create a band of trained fighters ready to come to the town’s
immediate defense in the case of local attack. It is important to note that these town militia were
conceived of not as parts of a greater army, but as town defense; their combat, should it come,
was a function of community.186
The Puritans did not create the idea of a local military company out of whole cloth, but
borrowed, or rather adapted, an old “military relic of the middle ages.” 187 In Britain, individual
villages and towns had not had to attend to local defenses since the wane of the feudal ages,
when the lord directed his subordinates in fending off those who threatened the manor or village.
These local bands had long become outmoded in Britain by the time of colonial settlement, as
military threats came from external states rather than from neighbors. In fact, Britain had almost
completed its shift to a permanent standing army of professional soldiers and mercenaries. The
town militia of Massachusetts Bay were a revival of an ancient practice.
However, the Puritan nature of Massachusetts Bay shaped the local militia in several
distinctive ways. First, Puritans were politically wary of the dangerous power of standing and
mercenary armies and hoped to exclude them from their new world plantation. They purposely
chose to enlist local men for defense rather than rely on the permanent presence of His Majesty’s
troops in their settlement. Second, though they continued to expect their military leaders to be
drawn from “the better sort” – those wealthier, more educated, and socially elite men of their
185
Quoted in Jack S. Radabaugh, “The Militia of Colonial Massachusetts,” Military Affairs, Vol. 18, No. 1 (Spring,
1954), p. 1.
186
John W. Shy, “A New Look at Colonial Militia,” William and Mary Quarterly Vol. 20 No. 2 (Apr. 1963), p. 178.
187
H. Telfer Mook, “Training Day in New England,” New England Quarterly Dec. 1938, pp. 678-9.
86
communities – they also decreed that these leaders should be elected by their men, so that those
considered most worthy could lead through respect and deference rather than compulsion or
force. Finally, they faced their military challenges with a providential outlook. God had sent
them into this wilderness; it was their sacred duty to defend their New Israel, and they could
expect that God would be on their side in their efforts to defend – or expand – their
settlements.188 Their Puritan understanding of physical, political, and religious liberty and wellbeing were intertwined in their decision to enlist all adult males in defensive training and duty.
Lexington had a militia company from its beginning. Though the records for the most
part have been lost, there were many men in town who bore the honorific title of Captain,
Ensign, or Lieutenant. Consider the following couplet, preserved from eighteenth century
Lexington lore, to describe the populous Munroe family: "Lieutenant John and Ensign Roe,
Sergeant George and Corporal Joe."189 Moreover, the LHS archives preserve warrants issued by
captains to their corporals for summoning the company for training. Parson Clarke notes training
days in his almanac, and the town meeting minutes note when training days will be considered
school holidays. So there is little doubt that Lexington’s men regularly met, elected officers, and
trained to be ready to participate in defending their town’s well-being.
Over the course of the late seventeenth and early eighteenth century, however, the needs
for local defense – and therefore the nature of local militia companies – evolved. As threat of
immediate Indian attack waned, towns felt less need for local vigilance, and there was a general
tendency to reduce the number of training sessions from weekly drills to once or twice a year– in
the spring and in the fall.190 In addition, once a year, the companies from various towns would
gather for a general muster. And, as its purpose became less associated with local defense, the
militia’s importance became increasingly social.191
Let’s consider the nature of Lexington’s local militia in the mid eighteen hundreds. The
company “settled the dignity” or “ordered itself” each year in company elections. The townsmen
consistently chose men from leading families: the records are full of references to Reeds,
Bowmans, and Stones as captains. This reflects the deep-grained sense of deference to wealth
and “dignity.” Military titles -- whether the coveted captain spot, or lieutenant, sergeant,
corporal, or ensign -- were highly prized. Once a man received such an honorific, his rank would
be recognized in social address (unless he later received a higher office) for the rest of his life.
Officers’ titles were badges of social honor. 192
Twice a year, Lexington’s captain would direct his corporal to notify – or “warn” – all
townsmen between the age of 16 and 60 (not exempted from service by General Court) to gather
for training. See for example, the surviving directive of Captain Thaddeus Bowman from 1764:
188
Shy, “A New Look at Colonial Militia,” pp. 175-78; Mook, “Training Day,” pp. 678 and 681; Ronald L.
Boucher, “The Colonial Militia as a Social Institution: Salem, Massachusetts, 1764-1775, Military Affairs, Vol. 37,
No. 4. (Dec. 1973), p. 125.
189
Charles Hudson, History of the Town of Lexington, Genealogical Register, p. 149.
190
Mook, “Training Day,” p. 678.
191
Boucher, “The Colonial Militia as a Social Institution,” p. 125.
192
Ibid.
87
To Corporal John Parker. You are herby required to warn all the training soldiers
of your squadron belonging to the Military foot company under my command to
appear at the house of Mr. John Raymond in this town on Saturday the [illegible]
day of November by nine of the clock in the morning, precisely with arms
complete hereof fail not, slr [?] return of this warrant with your doing therin
[sic]on or before the day perfecd [sic]. Signed Thaddeus Bowman, Captain,
Lexington, October 29, 1764.193
Technically, this warning was to be addressed to all able-bodied men between the ages of 16 and
60. There were, however, many exemptions from military service: magistrates and their deputies,
officers of the General Court, ministers, deacons, physicians, ships’ captains and fishermen, the
faculty & students of Harvard, the infirm, etc.194 And, we should also note, the General Court
had also voted to forbid Indians and blacks – enslaved or free – from bearing arms or training.195
The law reflected, no doubt, a fear about possible armed uprising.196 It is not clear that each town
followed this directive, as some of Lexington’s free blacks, such as the men of the Burdoo
family, were trained and served in the Provincial Army during the French and Indian War.
The training would usually take place on the common or “parade” (this name coming
from the use of the common for military drill or parade) or some other large open space that
could facilitate maneuvers, and usually one adjacent to a tavern for refreshment. (Note that the
1760 and 1764 warnings both specify a place of meeting near Mr. John Raymond’s, an active
tavern at the time.) The purpose of the gathering, ostensibly, was to drill the men in the
complicated maneuvers of formal warfare at that time. This was not an inconsequential task: the
manual of arms commonly in use in the first half of the eighteenth century included a fifty six
count drill.197 The men needed to learn the correct order for cocking, priming, ramming, poising,
and firing their muskets, master executing maneuvers in formation and files, understand the
signals of the fife and drum, and perfect their response to military orders. This was a tall order
for a day of training twice a year.
Training day usually began a prayer or address by the minister, as this was, after all,
considered a sacred duty in the defense of their covenanted community. This was followed by
roll call and inspection of arms. The company was then called into formation and drilled. The
day would end, inevitably, with a recess to the local tavern for refreshment.198
Training day became a familiar pageant in Lexington life. There was a strong social
aspect to the meeting. For one thing, all the participants were quite familiar with each other,
likely having known each other from birth. Most were in some way related, and it was common
for fathers and sons to train together. The muster was, in fact, a kind of family reunion, with
193
Manuscript in the collection of the Lexington Historical Society: A 1561 in Ledgers: Book A, p. 117.
Mook, “Training Day,” p. 679.
195
Radabaugh, “The Militia of Colonial Massachusetts,” p. 14.
196
Robert A. Gross, The Minutemen and Their World (New York: Hill and Wang, 1976), p. 70.
197
The drill was specified in a book called “Elton’s Tactics,” or “The Compleat Body of Art Military.” Radabaugh,
“The Militia of Colonial Massachusetts,” p. 14
198
Albert W. Bryant, “The Military Organizations of Lexington,” Proceedings of the Lexington Historical Society,
Vol. 2, p. 88.
194
88
complex kin networks replacing the need for rigorous enforcement of the chain of command.
This was, in essence, a company of cousins, with a strong sense of patriarchal order.199
Training day also had a social function for the town, providing a break in agricultural
labor and an opportunity to visit with friends and neighbors. Musters, the annual gathering of
several companies, became a leading civil celebration. The militia were joined by spectators,
who enjoyed spectacle as well as the subsequent socializing. Women watched the exercises and
commented upon their militia’s performance. Children – who were excused from school on
training days – flocked to the event. Peddlers and others saw the gathering as an opportunity to
market their wares. Lexington’s spring and fall training days were, like barn raisings, bees,
lecture days for the semi-annual fasts, and funerals: “h-o-l-y-days” in Lexington.200
In fact, by mid-century many in Massachusetts Bay had begun to complain that the social
nature of training day had overtaken and hampered its military function. Some fretted about
habitual absenteeism, tardiness, and drunkenness.201 Others complained that the loss of a day’s
work (especially of laborers and apprentices) and the expense of providing arms was a burden,
and for no demonstrable good purpose.202 Middlesex County towns such as Lexington had not
felt the threat of local invasion or attack since the turn of the eighteenth century, and some
murmured that the local town militia companies did little other than inflate a few men’s social
status with titles and allow the youthful and the unproductive to socialize, gossip, sell, and drink.
The local companies, some complained, were certainly not effective defensive military units.
The Lexington Militia and the French and Indian War
But the local militia did have a critical role to play in colonial Lexington. They provided
a pool of (partly) trained men for service in the colonial wars-of-empire of the first half of the
eighteenth centuries. The participation of Lexington men in the provincial armies of the French
and Indian War, especially, would have a profound influence on the nature and response of the
Lexington militia on April 19th.
We need to distinguish here between the town militia company and the provincial army.
The role of the town militia, as we have seen, was to protect the town. The role of the provincial
army was to fight major offensive or defensive wars of empire. When the crown declared a war,
it was not feasible for the town militia to turn out to respond; as the militia represented all ablebodied men of fighting age, such a response would have left the town defenseless, and just as
important, would have drawn all labor off the land and made agriculture virtually impossible.
Instead, the provincial governor called for volunteers (occasionally draftees) to fill the ranks of
provincial armies and to serve alongside the professional soldiers of the British Regulars. Almost
all of those who responded had already received some training in military arts through their
participation in training days. Thus, the town militia served as a sort of manpower pool from
which the provincial armies could be raised. The volunteers signed on for a single campaign of
199
Gross, Minutemen and Their World, p. 71.
“Alonzo E. Locke, “Early Schools of Lexington,” Proceedings of the Lexington Historical Society, Vol. 4, p. 10;
Mook, “Training Day in New England,” p. 690; Boucher, “The Colonial Militia as a Social Institution.”
201
Boucher, “The Colonial Militia as a Social Institution,” p. 126.
202
Radabaugh, “The Militia of Colonial Massachusetts,” p. 18.
200
89
several months, in regiments frequently populated with other men from their town or
surrounding towns, “under field leaders who held their rank independently of the militia.” 203
There were many opportunities for this volunteer experience. For the first six decades of
the eighteenth century, the English and the French engaged in an ongoing epic struggle for
imperial domination. Protestants and Papists waged war in Europe and on the seas, but spasms of
violence also spilled over into colonial provinces in New England and New France. Five wars
drew Lexington’s young men to battlefields throughout northern New England, upstate New
York, and on the land and seas of Canada. These included King William’s War (1689-97),
Queen Anne’s War (1702-13), Governor Dummer’s War (1722-25); King George’s War (174448), and the Seven Year’s War, also called the French and Indian War (1755-63). Sadly, the
muster rolls from these conflicts for Lexington are missing or woefully incomplete, but town
historians have tracked down many stories of townsmen who participated. Charles Hudson notes
that there is evidence of Lexington men serving as provincial army recruits in every eighteenth
century war. The last pre-Revolutionary War, however – the French and Indian War – drew by
far the greatest participation. Hudson tallied 147 enlistments in this struggle – an imperfect list,
he admited. “[Lexington’s] Munroes and Merriams and Winships were found on every battlefield, at Louisbourg, Quebec, Crown Point, Ticonderoga, Fort William Henry, and wherever the
foe was to be encountered . . .”204 Lexington’s experience was similar to that of other
Massachusetts towns. Scholars have long reckoned that about a third – or more – of the colony’s
eligible men were drawn into the provincial armies.205
As a result, the experience of Lexington men in this war shaped the rising generation,
particularly those who were young men in the 1740s and ‘50s, when the most participation
occurred. Dick Kollen estimates that twenty-five to thirty of these veterans still lived in
Lexington in 1775, and many of those were present with those on the common. They were also,
by 1775, men who had reached the middle years of their lives, when their local power was at its
peak. We must consider, then, this formative experience of warfare on Lexington’s men, and
understand how it shaped the town’s militia in 1775.
First, we should consider why Lexington’s young men of the 1740s and 50s should have
been so willing to leave the comfort and safety of home to volunteer in a distant war. In A
People’s Army, Fred Anderson explains the lure of soldiering for young men at mid-century.
Many of the soldiers were either young and awaiting their inheritances or poor, and the common
factor in those two conditions was that they did not yet own a farm. They were temporarily (in
the case of young men) available labor in search of enough capital to purchase land. “And one
way of accumulating such a stake, in the years between 1754 and 1763, was through provincial
military service. Although a young man contemplating enlistment could hardly expect to become
rich, service in the provincial forces did confer financial benefits. In the first place, military duty
(unlike civilian labor) was steady work, for which a man would be paid from enlistment until
203
Fred Anderson, A People’s Army: Massachusetts Soldiers & Society in the Seven Year’s War (Chapel Hill:
University of North Carolina Press, 1984), pp. 26-7.
204
Charles Hudson, “Military Affairs, History of the Town of Lexington Vol. 1 (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1913),
pp. 417-18; see also Richard P. Kollen, Lexington, Mass.: Treasures from Historic Archives (Charleston, S.C.:
History Press, 2006), p. 15
205
Anderson, A People’s Army, p. 3; Hudson, History of the Town of Lexington, Vol. I, p. 420.
90
discharge, a period that usually lasted six to eight months. The provincial private’s pay was high
by eighteen-century military standards... Additionally the province compensated its soldiers for
enlistment by a bounty amounting to at least an additional month’s pay and at most to a full eight
months’ pay. ...The cash compensation for the average private soldier on [the] Crown Point
expedition... was more than fifteen pounds Lawful Money. ... Moreover, provincial soldiers
received their wages at the end of their enlistments, an arrangement that forced the soldier to
save and gave him access to relatively large sums of cash, that scarcest of the countryside’s
resources. £15 would not buy a farm, but it was a good start.”206
Receiving generous pay in specie (coin) in a cash-strapped rural economy was a strong
inducement for young men, caught in a prolonged period of semi-dependence as they waited on
their fathers to distribute his land. But it was not the only reason. Most of these men had never
traveled further than a few miles from their home town. Provincial army service offered them a
way to see the world. More particularly, as the armies followed a path from enlistment centers in
the east across the colony to upstate New York, or north through New Hampshire and Vermont
to Canada, enlistees had a chance to read the land and scope out future farms. Many returned
from their service to migrate west, north, and to Nova Scotia. And, there was a less selfish
motive for serving as well. Lexington’s folk understood life providentially. They were God’s
people in his New Israel, and they had a duty to protect the Lord’s land from heresy. The French
were papists. For many in New England, these were holy wars, in which they were called to turn
back the dual threats of papacy and savage paganism. They would eventually see the surrender of
the French as the start of a new millennium – the end of the papist threat, the imperial French
threat, and the threat of savages blocking their way to western expansion. 207
What was their experience of war, particularly the French and Indian War in which so
many participated, and how did they understand that experience? First, for perhaps the first time
they experienced the comraderie and shared goals that extended beyond the insular bounds of
town kith and kin. In blended army regiments, they participated in province-wide fraternity and
surmounted the parochial concerns of town to achieve a broader sense of common interests.208
Such a sense would play a role in their willingness later to see their mutual interests with other
towns and to cooperate in a province-wide effort to resist British measures.
Second, for the first time they experienced the full force of the British army’s
professional training and discipline. In their town militia, training days, as we have seen, had
grown rather lax, and discipline was familial and collegial. The British were models of rigor and
discipline, highly trained and efficient machines both on and off the battlefield. They ridiculed
the ineptitude of provincial recruits, and set them to menial tasks such as clearing roads and
digging ditches. The provincials chafed under this humiliation, but recognized the superior
training and discipline of their counterparts in the Regulars.
Third, in serving with British Regulars, the provincial recruits had what was for most
their first face-to-face experience with people from “the motherland.” In almost every way, they
206
Anderson, A People’s Army, pp 38-9.
Ibid., p. 13.
208
Ibid., pp. 24-5.
207
91
found this experience unpleasant, and many formed a strong sense of “otherness,” of being
American, rather than British, in manner and disposition.
For example, the British army was sharply divided by social class. Although the men of
Lexington recognized distinctions of wealth and dignity and accepted a general social hierarchy ,
in reality, most lived essentially the same agrarian life. They marveled as the dramatic class
distinctions that divided the British army. British officers were aristocratic men whose families
had purchased commissions for them. The regular Redcoats, however, were drawn from the
dregs of English society: convicts, vagrants, and the growing body of poor. The two classes were
sharply separated in every aspect of life, from the positioning of tents to victualling. The
provincials, who were accustomed to electing their officers from among their own, were shocked
at the distinctions. To maintain order and enforce hierarchy, British officers routinely flogged
and even hung or shot men who showed insubordination or broke regulations. The provincials,
who were accustomed to discipline through consensus, entreaty, and peer pressure were horrified
by the draconian punishments inflicted by officers on their subordinates. They concluded that the
British were a cruel and barbarous lot.
This class distinction riled the provincials in other ways as well. The British officers were
haughty. They viewed most provincial enlistees with a disdainful disrespect, being, in their
estimation, not only poor soldiers but social savages. Their belittling rankled those farmers who
had long considered themselves proudly independent yeomen. If they disliked the officers,
however, they had even less regard for the lowly Regular foot soldiers. These they viewed with
great disapproval: they swore, gambled, drank prodigiously, were aggressive, violent, and lewd,
and they regularly broke both the second and third commandments. The provincial enlistees
traveled with their chaplains, regularly attended two Sunday sermons on which they often took
notes, and turned to their ministers for support and comfort. The Regulars, on the other hand, had
little use for clergy – having one Anglican chaplain for every 14 colonial chaplains – and the
English chaplains high-church manner suggested an alarming if latent papist influence.209
Lexington’s enlistees also endured the rigorous experience of campaigning and the horror
of combat. These men became seasoned soldiers. Some of Lexington’s men, such as John Parker
and Edmund Monroe, for example, were said to be members of Roger’s Rangers, a famous corps
that tracked their foes through the forests of upstate New York. Charles Hudson described this
rough apprenticeship.
[Roger’s Rangers ]— a corps whose name was expressive of the life they led —
ranging through the wilderness, seeking their wary savage foe by day or by night,
in silent glens or secret ambush; — a corps whose winter quarters were in tedious
marchings amid drifted snows, frozen lakes, and ice-clad hills, relying sometimes
upon snowshoes, and sometimes upon skates for locomotion, and carrying their
only arsenal and commissariat in their packs. In such a corps were some of the
hardy sons of Lexington trained — they, knowing that their lives were in their
own hands, and that their escape from the tomahawk and scalping-knife, the
209
Anderson, People’s Army, p. 210.
92
tortures of the fagot or ignominious slavery depended entirely upon their own
severe trials, perpetual watchings, and determined courage.210
Battle, when it finally came, proved to be a horrifying, disorienting, vivid, confusing,
transformative experience. Fred Anderson notes the number of battle survivors who recorded the
unexpected shock and long-lasting terror that came with combat. “Harsh months of campaigning,
punctuated by an occasional, terrifying battle, became a profound part of their experience.” 211
How did Lexingtonians understand this experience? What meaning did they bring to it
and take from it? Most important here is that we understand the providential nature of mentality
in colonial Lexington. The French and Indian War was to them one more chapter in the longstanding story of New England’s struggle for religious piety. They were being chastened for their
failure to live as God’s promised people, but these afflictions, if properly borne, would be
sanctified for the reformation and salvation of the world. If, through their sufferings, they kept
faith, then their God would be their protector and would ultimately lead them to victory. Their
chaplains exhorted, preached, consoled, explained, and comforted them in providential terms.
They believed that their struggle against papists and savages who threatened the New Israel was
a just struggle and were assured that if they “took the field ‘in the name of the Lord of hosts, the
God of the armies of Israel’ against those who had set their faces against Israel’s God, then
Jehovah would surely come to their aid.”212
But there were other lessons as well. They learned what was required to fight a great
army, and they learned to respect the power and discipline of His Majesty’s Regulars. They
learned to imagine themselves as a provincial people with shared interests, rather than men from
separate towns. Through their participation in campaigning, battle, and victory, they came to
have confidence in their own abilities as soldiers. Yet, the same experiences impressed them with
the utterly unromantic and horrific nature of battle and dampened any youthful thirst for war.
They also came to know the British as others, and as not very attractive others. In fact, in the face
of class differences, British haughtiness, profanity, lewdness and irreligion, they came to have a
strong sense of their moral superiority. The experience of Massachusetts provincials in the
French in and Indian war set in bold relief the differences between the culture and norms of New
England and that of old England. It honed their sense of unique American identity. It affirmed
for them the longtime exceptionalist traditions of Yankee culture; New England was, after all,
God’s work, a City on a Hill, providentially redeemed from the moral and religious depravity of
Old England. “It transformed them from a mere group of contemporaries into a generation of
men whose common knowledge included a powerful set of lessons about themselves, about the
British, and about war itself.”213
All of these lessons would be critical in the role of Lexington’s militia on April 19th.
Autumn of 1774 – Lexington’s New Militia
210
Hudson, History of the Town of Lexington, Vol. 1 p. 419.
Anderson, A Peoples Army, p. 25.
212
Ibid, p. 212.
213
Ibid., pp. 24-25.
211
93
As late as 1770 the traditional town militia, under the authority of the provincial General
Court, continued to operate in Lexington. In that year, the old hierarchy with its deference to
wealth and dignity persisted, for Thaddeus Bowman, a middle-aged man from one of
Lexington’s most established old families, continued his decade-long run as the elected
captain.214 But over the next several years, as tensions rose and anxieties peaked, the men of
Lexington began to reconsider their military customs. By September 15, 1774, when Rev. Clarke
noted that the militia was “showing arms,” they had clearly come to believe that their militia
needed to be reformed to become a more effective military organization. For this was not their
regular semi-annual training, which would occur three weeks later, but a supplemental
exercise.215 It is likely that in the turbulent political atmosphere, the townsmen had come to feel
that they needed to renew the emphasis on the militia’s original purpose – the defense of the
town.216 As it turned out, the town would not merely reform their militia, they would re-organize
it completely.
In early October of 1774, Governor/General Gage failed to convene the legislature. Most
patriots in Massachusetts concluded that by failing to fulfill his charter obligations through the
workings of the General Court, he had voided the crown’s authority in Massachusetts, and the
people were entitled to call their own assembly. Representatives from each town proceeded to
gather – no longer as a General Court under the Governor’s authority, but as a Provincial
Congress under their own authority. At the same time that the Provincial Congress was meeting
in Concord, officers in town militia, who believed that their authority came from the directive of
the now-defunct General Court, resigned their posts and their town militia were disbanded. This
move was made not to leave the towns defenseless, but to establish the conditions under which
they could re-organize under no authority but that of their own towns, and of the newly formed
Provincial Congress. As Hudson summarizes,
[Captain Bowman and his subordinate officers] probably considered themselves
superseded or discharged after Governor Gage virtually abdicated government
here by refusing to convene the Legislature. The organization of companies of
Minute-Men by the order of the Provincial Congress in 1774 appears to have been
entirely outside of the old military organization. The company which appeared on
the Common in 1775 did not owe its organization to any law of the Legislature;
and it is probable that Captain Parker and his subalterns had no commission,
except that of the vote of the company and the approbation of the Committee of
Safety.217
It would be easy for us to glide quickly past this point, but it is important. These militia, while
based on the form and organization of the old town militia, met of their own authority, to secure
their own town’s defenses. The crown-authorized militia and officers of provincial regiments
ceased to exist. Now towns moved to create their own re-formed militia, taking their authority
from the recommendations of the Provincial Congress or from their own town meetings. Just as
214
Hudson, History of the Town of Lexington, Vol. I, p. 420.
See Clarke’s Interleaved Almanac, entries for September 15 and October 5, 1774.
216
Boucher, “The Colonial Militia,” p. 129.
217
Hudson, History of the Town of Lexington, Vol. 1, pp. 420-1.
215
94
important, although the Provincial Congress urged towns to prepare in this way, they did not, or
could not, mandate participation in these new, independent town militia. These were volunteer
companies; only those with patriotic inclinations chose to join.218
In late October of 1774, the Provincial Congress considered how best to ensure the safety
of the province. They decided not to call an army, but to rely on the towns to form their own
militia. They asked all men aged 15-55 to enlist in their town militia, and those over that age to
be prepared to come out in dire emergency (known as the “alarm list”). They also suggested that
a quarter of all the militia be designated as minutemen, to come out on the shortest available
notice.219 The use of the whole of a town’s militia for local defense had not been put into practice
since the early days of settlement in response to feared Indian attack. It was a move that sent the
messages to towns that their local militia might once again play a vital role in local defense, and
that they needed to be ready for such a role. “The people were urged immediately to provide
themselves with arms and ‘use their utmost diligence to perfect themselves in military skill.’”220
Lexington rose immediately to the challenge of retooling its militia into an effective
military unit. On November 3, the townsmen met to plan “military discipline and to put
themselves in a position of defense against their Enemies.” They voted the purchase of a cannon,
ammunition, and a pair of drums.221 We do not know when the new militia gathered themselves
into a company, but it was likely before this, for within a few weeks, the “training band and
alarm” had voted to meet to inspect the new munitions.222 Years later, fifer Jonathan Harrington,
, would remember teaching himself to play so that he could join in these autumn training
sessions.223
Fortunately, Edmund Munroe recorded a copy of the new company’s Articles of
Association and Rules and Regulations. Canavan believed that Munroe likely drafted these
articles, as he had had much experience in the French and Indian War.224 There were several men
in town with such experience, however. What is of more interest than the authorship, is the
content. For they essentially follow the traditional form of New England association, making a
mutual compact, or a covenant: “We, whose names are hereto subscribed, having aggressed to
associate ourselves together to improve ourselves in the Art of Military do agree to Bind
ourselves in the following articles.” Here we should note that the militia imitated the form of
church covenant – a binding together to mutually support and improve themselves. It is
interesting to consider whether they thought of their militia in religious terms. It is also
interesting to note that they did not specify an aggressive aim, but rather a goal of improving
themselves in the art of military – they were a training band, rather than a fighting force. If
Edmund Munroe drafted these articles, this emphasis may have been his, for as we will see, he
was a reluctant revolutionary. Following the articles of association are the company’s rules and
218
Bryant, “The Military Organizations of Lexington,” Proceeding of Lexington Historical Society, p. 86.
David Hackett Fischer, Paul Revere’s Ride, p. 152.
220
Starbuck, “Historical Events,” p. 140
221
Town Meeting Minutes, November 3, 1774
222
Town Meeting Minutes, November 28, 1774
223
Lossing, Benson John, “The Fifer at Lexington,” in Hours with the Living Men and Women of the Revolution: A
Pilgrimage (New York: Funk and Wagnalls, 1889), p. 3.
224
Michael J. Canavan, “Canavan Papers,” Cary Memorial Library, Lexington, Mass. Undated. pp. 267-8.
219
95
regulations, which are transcribed in the appendix.225 With their articles and rules, the new
company came into being. By early winter, Lexington had a hundred and twenty men enlisted in
their company. (Lexington did not form a minuteman subset; they had, instead, one united
training band, with some elderly denoted as alarm list.)
The Second Provincial Congress continued to urge towns to train regularly in military
discipline to keep themselves in “the best posture for defence [sic].” We do not know when and
how often the Lexington company drilled in the winter of 1774-75, or whether they exceeded the
four meetings a year mandated by their rules and regulations. We do know, from Rev. Clarke’s
diary, that the militia were “training” and “showing arms,” in early March of 1775, long before
the normal spring training day.226
We also know what the company did as it drilled. In October of 1774 the Provincial
Congress had recommended that the town militia, “in order to their perfecting themselves in the
military art, . . . proceed in the method ordered by his majesty in the year 1764, it being, in the
opinion of this Congress, best calculated for appearance and defense.”227 And Lexington
followed this directive. For in his account book, John Parker wrote out the entire “manual
exercise” – the 35 commands prescribed in His Majesty’s Manual Exercise of 1764.228 (The 35
orders encompassed 85 separate motions).However, Parker’s version mixes some of the orders
and motions, suggesting that he, or whomever he copied this from, was working from memory.
In general Parker’s orders follow so closely those of the Manuel Exercise of 1764 that we can
assume he was attempting to replicate that drill. Although Parker’s entry is not dated, I believe
he entered these commands in his account book either when they were first published in 1764 or
when he took charge as captain of the re-organized minutemen in the months before April 19th.
These commands are transcribed in the appendix.
Consider what a challenge this military training posed. Although some of these men were
experienced, many others were young. In fact, half the men in Capt. Parker’s company were
under age thirty. These younger men did not have the training or experience of fighting in the
imperial wars. Within their memory, most training days in Lexington had been rather casual and
social affairs. Suddenly, there was a real urgency to their drills; these youthful men, as Jonathan
Harrington later remembered, trained with purpose.
The young men also, though, trained with family. Capt. Parker’s company was riddled
with kin. Nearly every man was related to someone else in his band, and many trained alongside
their fathers, uncles, and even grandfathers. They also trained next to their neighbors, their
schoolmates, their fellow church members. The training band was indeed an artifact of
community, motivated by the shared need to provide for their common – and very local –
defense. This communal and family aspect to the company may have helped with maintaining
discipline and order and bolstering spirits and commitment. They worked as one community.
225
Canavan, pp. 267-8. Hudson also cited these rules and regulations and indicated that they may have been in effect
as early as 1773, though he did not say why he believed this was so. Hudson, History of the Town of Lexington, Vol.
1, p. 226.
226
Jonas Clarke Interleaved Almanac, March 14, 1775.
227
Journals of Each Provincial Congress
228
Account Book of John Parker, Sr. Archives of the Lexington Historical Society, Lexington, Mass.
96
And, if half the men were under thirty, we should also remember that half the men were
over thirty. That is, half the men on the training field likely had had previous experience with the
provincial army, had a degree of familiarity with the drills, and understood the nature of warfare.
These were not, then, merely farmers.
War is usually a young man’s fight and a poor man’s fight. That was not the case with the
Lexington militia. Not only were half the men in the prime years of their life, they were men of
significant substance. The men in the Lexington militia between the ages of 30 and 60 – the
prime property-owning years, were uncharacteristically affluent. If we divide the town’s
taxpayers into ranked groups of tenths, each tenth would represent one decile. Nearly half of the
men in the 30-to-60 age bracket were in the top three deciles – that is, in the top 30% of wealth
for the town. Since in Lexington at this time the majority of wealth was held as land, what this
tells us is that these older men, in addition to being experienced soldiers, were also experienced
and relatively affluent farmers. They had substantial property to protect, and their choosing to
join the militia may have been one measure of their determination to protect that property.
A key word here is chose. For we need to remember that this was a volunteer militia; men
were urged but not mandated to serve. In fact, a significant number – at least 56 - of Lexington
men between the age of 16 and 60 chose not to join the militia – or were forbidden to do so by
their masters. Why would they make this choice?
Analysis of Lexington’s militia and non-militia males reveals telling insights. Those men
between the age of 30 and 60 who chose to join the militia held significantly more land than
those who did not join the fight; in fact nearly 40% of all those men who declined to take up
arms were landless.229 This suggests that those most vested in land ownership were most likely to
fight. Moreover, when we track the two cohorts through the remainder of their lives, militia
members held twice as many assets (most value was held in land), and were significantly more
likely to be solvent at the time of death. Non-militia died with more than twice the debt of
militia, and were more likely to have to sell part or all of their real estate to settle their debts at
death.230 Again, the landed status of those who joined the militia significantly improved their
likelihood for lifetime financial stability. These men knew that their livelihood, their security,
their identity, and their liberty, lay in the land. For this they were willing to die. It is possible that
Lexington’s landless men, or those with little property and less hope of getting any, felt less
invested in the land and in the community.
It is also possible that some men, whether or not they owned property, had qualms of
conscience over engaging in acts not authorized by the crown and potentially treasonous. That
there were men who were not committed to the cause on April 19th appears from several sources.
229
This study is based on males between the age of 30 and 60 (the prime property-owning years based on the life
cycle of wealth) for whom 1774 tax deciles are known (N=55). Nearly half of the militia was in the top three deciles
for wealth; only 13% of the militia was landless. In comparison 39% of the non-militia men were landless. Some
could argue that poor men could not afford a musket, but there were others who joined the militia who did not own a
musket. It is possible that landless men, as hired labor, could not secure permission, or could not afford to forgo pay,
for time off to train.
230
See Appendix L. Mean Debt Ratios, Average Assets at Death, and Sale of Real Estate for Debt.
97
Lexington had unanimous votes on their resolves, actions, and instructions as long as those
articles included a statement of fidelity to the king. However, in the tumultuous autumn of 1774
some did begin to voice uncertainty at what they possibly believed were treasonous steps. When
an article in a special town meeting in November proposed erecting a liberty pole, it was
defeated. When town meeting voted in December of that year to abide by the resolves of the
Continental and Provincial Congresses, and to pay their taxes to the provincial treasurer rather
than the royal agent, 65-year-old Moses Harrington “personally appeared and protested against
the proceeding of the above meeting.”231 Though his son and grandson served in the training
band, the senior Harrington apparently felt things had been carried too far.
Others had their doubts as well. Edmund Munroe is a case in point. He had seen long
service in the French and Indian War, and had been commissioned by royal authorities as an
officer in the Provincial Army. Such a commitment had likely reinforced his sense of loyalty to
the crown, and his respect for the crushing power of the professional British Regulars. These
factors may have made him reluctant to challenge the power of the crown. Canavan noted, “It is
difficult to make out what the position of Edmund Munro was, in regard to the matters going on
around him. He took part in the town meetings and opposed the aggressive acts. He drew up
rules for the company and was a private in it. But if he had entered into the movement at this
time, heart and soul, he would probably have held a higher position. He was a conservative man.
He had been an officer for five years, and such a man would hesitate at open rebellion.”232 More
telling is a story that comes down to us from his daughter’s grandchildren. She was remembered
as saying that her father was opposed to the rebellion and used to say, “Boys, I’m with you. I
won’t help you to get into trouble. But if you do get into trouble I’ll help to get you out.” She
also asserted that he did not take part in the fight, for “she remembered his holding her up to the
window of the old house on Lowell St., that she might see the smoke and flame from the burning
buildings.” 233 The buildings, of course, burned in the afternoon, not during the morning
skirmish. But another descendent claimed that Edmund Munroe was not on the parade during the
morning because he had been part of the guard at the Clarke house the night before and in the
morning he was helping Hancock and Adams escape. Either way, it is clear that Edmund Monroe
had some reservations about embracing armed conflict.
Other unnamed Lexingtonians had even less enthusiasm for armed rebellion. On the
morning of April 19th, when William Diamond beat the call to arms, there were apparently those
who did not respond, but remained comfortably – and they thought safely – in the Buckman
Tavern. In the nineteenth century, the daughter of a Lexington eyewitness used to relate that her
father – a boy at the time -- had stood on the steps of the tavern that morning and witnessed the
arrival of the British troops. “Some men, as she expressed it, ‘who wouldn’t stand up for their
country, were near him, and they said that the British would not fire on them, as they were
brothers; but, when that volley was fired at the house, they scrambled to the attic and cellar – the
boy with those in the attic.”234
231
Lexington Town Meeting Records, December 27, 1774, Transcripts, Lexington Historical Society.
Canavan p. 268
233
Canavan, pp. 268-9
234
Bliss, Edward P. “The Old Taverns of Lexington,” Proceedings of the Lexington Historical Society, Vol, 1, p. 75.
232
98
Finally, we have an intriguing document from 1776, preserved in the papers of Edmund
Monroe, that Hudson and Canavan both celebrated as a local “Declaration of Independence.” I
am not so sure. The document begins with a phrase – those signed below do “profess, testify and
declare before God and the world” their allegiance. However, this phrase repeats exactly the
words and form often used in public confessions of wrong-doing. Moreover, they are solemnly
declaring that they will not assist the enemy:
we will not, during the said war, directly or indirectly, in any ways, aid, abet, or
assist any of the naval or land forces of the king of Great Britain, or any
employed by him, or supply them with any kind of provisions, military or naval
stores, or hold any correspondence with, or communicate any intelligence to any
of the officers, soldiers or marines belonging to the said army or navy, or enlist or
procure any others to enlist into the land or sea service of Great Britain, or take
up or bear arms against this or either of the United Colonies, or undertake to
pilot any of the vessels belonging to the said navy, or in any other way aid or
assist them.235
The meaning of this document is unclear but I think it is possibly one of those documents used
by Massachusetts towns to coerce residents of uncertain loyalties to swear to support, or at least
not hinder, the patriot cause. Other towns, such as Newton, record that men presented to the
selectmen for suspect loyalties in 1776 either took an oath such as this and were allowed to stay,
or were forced to leave town.
Let us turn now to the question of leadership. We know that as late as 1770, the
Lexington militia had elected the following officers: Captain Thaddeus Bowman, Lieutenant.
Jonathan Smith, Ensign Robert Harrington, Corporal John Parker. None of these men were
chosen or agreed to serve as officers in 1775 company, with the exception of Parker. Why the
turnover in leadership? Jonathan Smith, we should note, was one of those compelled to sign the
fealty oath. The loyalties of Edmund Monroe, as we have already seen were also in question. (He
also was among those who had to sign the fealty oath.) Despite his extensive experience in war,
his townsmen did not call him to any leadership role in the militia. But both Bowman and
Harrington were known patriots (Bowman was active as a scout on the morning of April 19th,
and Harrington was elected a selectmen during the Revolution. Perhaps it was their age that
posed a concern. Age was usually a mark of dignity in colonial Lexington. But in this real
emergency, the militia men may have preferred to put their defense in the hands of younger,
more vital men. Compellingly, we can see that in the years from 1765 to 1775, the average age
of men elected to top town office in Lexington dropped, for the first time, and dramatically.236
Here it appears that traditional respect for the old elites bowed before exigency.
Instead, they elected John Parker. In Parker they had a man whose patriotic sympathies
were clear. But they also had a man of extensive experience in military campaigns and battle. He
had served in campaigns to Canada in 1744 when he was a youth. In the French and Indian War
he was part of the campaign to the Adirondacks, was present at the conquest of Quebec, and was
likely part of Roger’s Rangers as well. “Captain Parker had seen more of war than most of the
235
236
Hudson, History of the Town of Lexington,Vol. 1, p. 228. The oath is transcribed in the appendix.
See the Appendix for a chart of this decline, compiled from my research.
99
British Regulars who were marching into his town.”237 In addition to his experience, the 45 yearold Parker had the ability to command his townsmen’s confidence and respect, the most critical
element in compelling obedience in Massachusetts’ town militia. His descendents remembered
him as a big man with a big presence. He was fond of reading, thoughtful, independent-minded,
and renowned for his cool judgment.238 His townsmen appreciated these qualities, as we can see
from town meeting minutes where he was repeatedly chosen to arbitrate disputes. They must
have believed that he was the right man – experienced, cool-headed, and patriotic -- for this
moment of crisis. Jonathan Harrington, the fifer in the company, later remembered that on April
19th, Parker “looked as though he could face anything.”239
There was another critical characteristic of John Parker: he was much under the influence
of Rev. Jonas Clarke, the minister. And for years, Clarke had been preaching that preserving
their sacred liberties was a sacred duty, that their religious liberty – in fact, their very salvation –
was bound up in their political liberty. Clarke urged his townsmen to be moved by piety to
preserve their rights and liberties. For “the preservation of the rights and liberties of the people,”
he argued, was in fact, “the cause of GOD.” Town militiamen, “who engage in the cause of
[God’s] people, and set themselves for their defense, are therefore to consider themselves as
guardians and trustees for GOD, having the rights, property, liberties, and lives of their fellowmen (a sacred trust!), committed to their charge.”240 This sacred obligation was deepened by the
belief of Great Migration Puritans that New England was the New Jerusalem. Clarke drew a
specific analogy, comparing his people to the subjects of Jehosephat, the Old Testament king
who restored purity of worship and virtuous conduct to Israel, and then prepared to defend his
kingdom as the refuge of the God’s chosen people. In the same way, Clarke suggested, the
yeomen of New England were divinely called to defend their new Chosen Land.241 Under
Clarke’s influence, the men of Lexington had a divine imperative to rise up, a sacred obligation
to take up arms. Under his influence, the men in Lexington vowed to resist, and to this cause
they pledged to “Sacrifice our Estates, and every thing dear in Life, Yea and Life itself, in
support of the common Cause.”242 Echoing the providential motivations of the French and Indian
War, when New England’s men fought to repel papacy and preserve the New Jerusalem, Clarke
led his men to see this new military effort as another sacred obligation to do God’s work.
These, then were the preconditions that shaped and motivated the men of Lexington.
They reflected various views of liberty. For established men, especially those many who came to
this conflict from the experience of the French and Indian War, different strands were woven into
their conception and pursuit of liberty. They were men of property, with much to protect. They
237
For documentation of Parker’s service, see my paper “Reckoning with the Parkers: The Parker Family Account
Books,” unpublished paper, Lexington Historical Society archives. See also Fischer, Paul Revere’s Ride, p. 150.
238
Parker, Elizabeth S., “Captain John Parker,” Proceedings of the Lexington Historical Society, Vol. 1 pp. 43-45.
239
Jonathan Harrington as quoted in “Capt John Parker,” read by Elizabeth S. Parker, Proceedings of the Lexington
Historical Society Vol. 1, p. 45.
240
Jonas Clarke, The Importance of Military Skill, Measures for Defense and a Martial Spirit, in a Time of Peace: A
Sermon Preached to the Ancient and Honorable Artillery Company in Boston, New-England, June 6, 1768 Being the
Anniversary of their Election of Officers.. (Boston: Kneeland and Adams, 1768), pp. 15-16.
241
The theme of the providential role of the American colonies in the history of freedom has been common in
historiography since Perry Miller. It was a prominent feature of Alan Heimert’s scholarship. The theme blended
“covenant theories of the Puritans, certain strands of Enlightenment thought, the arguments of the English radicals,
the condition of life in the colonies, even the conquest of Canada.” Bailyn, Ideological Origins, pp. 139-40.
242
Lexington Town Meeting Resolves, December, 1773. Transcripts, Lexington Historical Society.
100
had experienced the horrors of warfare, and were cautious about taking up arms against the lethal
Regulars and not over-anxious to re-experience the total horror of battle. Yet their experience
had taught them that the British were truly “other,” and a flawed other: haughty, arrogant and
condescending, lewd, profane, and irreligious, tending towards Anglican papism, barbarous and
savage. They believed fully in a present menace from “the butchering hand of an inhuman
soldiery” who could “ravage this devoted country with fire and sword.”243 The experienced men
of the Lexington militia believed in their own abilities to fight, in their moral superiority to their
enemy, their sacred obligation to resist, and the assurance that their God would be their protector.
All of these attitudes grew out of the prior experience in the French and Indian War combined
with the powerful exhortations of their patriot minister.
One Man’s Experience: Daniel Harrington
The story of what happened to the Lexington militia on the morning of April 19th has
been told many times. For (biased) primary source accounts, you can consult Jonas Clarke’s
Opening of the War of the Revolution, 18th April, 1775. A Brief Narrative of the Principal
Transactions of that Day, as well as the depositions given by Lexington militia and spectators.
These depositions are included in the appendix. An excellent secondary source rendition of the
morning’s events is included in David Hackett Fischers’ Paul Revere’s Ride, in the chapter “First
Shot” pp. 188-201. Other accounts are related by Elias Phinney, History of the Battle of
Lexington: On the Morning of April 19th, 1775 (1825); Artemas Muzzey, The Battle of
Lexington, with Personal Reflections of the Men Engaged in It (1887); and Arthur Tourtellot,
Lexington and Concord: The Beginning of the War of the American Revolution (originally
published as William Diamond’s Drum).
I provide here the story of one Lexington militia man’s experience on the early morning
of April 19th, 1775.
Daniel and Anna Harrington were, in several senses, at the center of Lexington society in
1775. Their marriage united the Harrington and Munroe clans, two of Lexington’s oldest most
prolific families. Both Anna and Daniel’s fathers played central roles in governing and defending
the town in the months leading up to the Revolution. The couple’s house, located on the
northwestern edge of the common, put them quite literally in the midst of town happenings,
whether militia trainings on the green, impassioned political sermons at the meeting house, or
late-night debates next door at Buckman’s tavern. In following their story leading up to and
during the fateful events of April 19, 1775, we can experience some of the trials and sacrifices,
the courage and the grief, that came to those who lived at the center of the tumultuous events of
the early Revolution.
Daniel was, in addition to farming, a blacksmith. He had no doubt learned the trade in his
father’s shop, and perhaps in his grandfather’s shop as well. When he came of age, Daniel must
have decided that business owould not support three smiths in such close proximity. In 1763, at
the age of 24, he moved out on his own, purchasing the property at the head of common that had
belonged to William Munroe, also a black smith. Munroe was quitting the smithing business, and
Daniel doubtless saw an opportunity to take over the market for blacksmithing in the center of
243
Letter of the Boston Committee of Safety to the towns, quoted in Starbuck, Historical Events, pp. 156-7.
101
town. Daniel’s purchase included a house that Munroe had deeded to a stepson, and four and
one-half acres.
There he moved his young wife Anna Munroe Harrington (daughter of Robert, not the
aforementioned William), and two small sons. Over the next dozen years, they increased their
estate and their family until they had nearly an average farm, the blacksmith business, and seven
living children (one had died as an infant). Their offspring ranged in age from first-born Levi at
14, to the baby Eusebia, just a year old in the spring of 1775. Daniel also built his reputation in
the eyes of his fellow townsmen. They favored him with elected offices. Throughout the 1760’s
and early 1770’s he was chosen fence viewer and surveyor of highways; by the middle of the
war, he had risen to the select rank of selectmen. The militia men expressed their confidence in
the 36-year old by choosing him to be the clerk of their company.
We can try to imagine life for Daniel and Anna in the spring of 1775. As a member of
Captain Parker’s company, Daniel was called throughout the unusually warm winter and early
spring to drill on the common. This training, of course, was well within view of Anna and the
children, who lived across the street from the parade. Fourteen-year-old Levi and eleven-year-old
Nathan were no doubt fascinated spectators, but too young to join the drill. They had finished the
winter term at the school house on the common, and were now needed for spring chores.
Between training and smithing, Daniel and his two oldest boys were busy carting and spreading
manure, plowing, preparing for planting season. If their one cow had calved, Anna, perhaps with
the help of 9-year-old Anna and 5-year-old Grace, was busy milking and perhaps butter-making.
Spring cleaning was in process, ridding the house of winter soot, whitewashing where possible,
airing winter linens. The weekly tasks of washing, baking, ironing, daily meal preparation, and
endless sewing had to be accomplished while minding 3-year-old Grace and the infant Eusebia.
The household was in constant movement.
Busy as they were, neither Anna nor Daniel could ignore the growing tension within
Lexington as the town prepared for war. Their home was situated in the middle of everything.
Town meetings in December had voiced the community’s opposition to perceived British
oppression. The annual March town meeting was agitated, and men may have been in and out of
the Harrington home on their way to and from these sessions. Men no doubt discussed the latest
rumors and developments regularly next door at the Buckman tavern. Each Sunday, the meeting
house across the common rang with the sermons of their patriot-minister. The Harrington family
must have pulsed with apprehension and agitation.
Anna and Daniel both came from Whiggish families. Daniel’s father Robert would lead
the town through the Revolution years; when Daniel went out to train on the common, he was
joined both by Anna’s two younger brothers and by her war-tested father. At 65, the old soldier
Ensign Robert Munroe would not be missing from the ranks of soldier-farmers. In fact, Captain
Parker’s company was filled with Harringtons and Munroes; twenty-seven men from those two
clans made up nearly one-fifth of the roster. Anna and Daniel knew they would support their
town in the case of perceived threat of injury or damage from British Regulars. They simply did
not know when and how their support would be required. Living on the common in the Spring of
1775 must have been a nervy and anxious experience.
102
The night of April 18th must have been sleepless for the Harrington household. The
common had no doubt been abuzz with rumors and anxious townspeople for several days. Paul
Revere had ridden to Lexington from Boston on Sunday the 16th to deliver word to John
Hancock that the British troops in Boston appeared to be preparing for an expedition, perhaps by
boat across the Back Bay to Cambridge. On Tuesday evening the 18th, around sunset, young
Solomon Brown alerted Sergeant William Munroe at the Munroe Tavern that he had passed and
observed armed British patrols on the road as he returned from his market trip to Boston. Munroe
summoned the militia, who gathered at the common outside of Buckman Tavern. Most likely
Daniel joined them; as Elijah Sanderson, Jonathan Loring, and Solomon Brown went out to scout
on the British patrols, the rest of the militia could only watch and wait. Tension in the buildings
around the common must have run high.
It is possible that by 11:30 pm on the 18th, Anna had managed to settle her four youngest
children for the night, but not for long. Revere passed by their house at a gallop on his way to
neighbor Clarke, where he roused the entire household with his alarm. Shortly later, the bell that
stood in the belfry on the common rang out the alarm for the militia - surely there were no
sleepers in Anna’s household as the bell clanged outside their windows. By 1:30 am the common
across the street from their house was filling with Lexington militia - up to 140 men in Captain
Parker’s company. The men milled and conferred, and at 1:30 they were dismissed to
convenient homes or to the Buckman Tavern, to be ready to return at the beat of the drum.
One can imagine the Harrington household at this point. No one could have been
sleeping. Daniel returned home, most likely his brother, Thaddeus, with Anna’s father and two
brothers, Anna’s brother-in-law Lt. Tidd, Anna’s nephews Nathaniel Mulliken and Ebenezer
Munroe, all of Capt. Parker’s company. Thomas Rice Willard was also in the house, and
probably others waited there as well.244 The ruckus on the common, the belfry bell, the men
returning home, had no doubt roused all seven children. Three tense hours passed, waiting and
watching. Fifer Jonathan Harrington later remembered the lights seen moving in the houses
around the common as alarm-guns sounded.245
What did they discuss and consider as they gathered in Daniel Harrington’s home?
Robert Munroe, his wife’s father, likely remembered and related his experiences with the
Regulars in the last war. Munroe had been an ensign in the provincial army. In the expedition
against Louisburg, in 1758, “he was color-bearer in that memorable attack, reflecting honor upon
Mass and upon Lexington. In 1762, he was one of a company from this town sent to watch the
Indians and prevent the reopening of hostilities before peace had been declared.”246 He no doubt
recalled with pride their victory, and with trepidation the lethal effectiveness of the Regulars. He
may have shared stories of their savage punishments, their lewdness, profanity, and their uppity
officers. He was capable of casting the British in the role of the enemy that morning, that morally
inferior, repugnant, and barbarously dangerous “other.” If they planned, it was to review the
exercises they had practiced, to steel their nerve, to prepare for battle. If they prayed as they
244
Deposition of Thomas Rice Willard, April, 1775. Between their Munroe and Harrington families, Anna and
Daniel had countless kin who may have taken refuge in the conveniently located house.
245
Lossing, Interview with Jonathan Harrington, p. 5.
246
G.W. Sampson, “Robert Munroe,” Proceedings of the Lexington Historical Society, Vol. 1, p. 39.
103
awaited the encounter, it was to be true to their role as defenders of God’s work in New England,
soldiers of righteousness.
At 4:30 am, William Diamond’s drumbeat on the common roused the household to action
again. Thaddeus Bowman had returned from scouting to report that the British troops were less
than a half-mile away. Lexington militia rushed to the common from houses surrounding the
common and from Buckman’s tavern. Seventy-seven men lined up in a double row on the
triangular common. For Anna, watching with her younger children from her house only yards
away, the sight must have been terrifying. Facing 700 trained professional soldiers was this tiny
band that included her husband, her father, her two brothers, her brother-in-law, cousins, kin, and
neighbors. Her son Levi, too, while too young to fight, had left the house to witness the events
with other spectators around the common. 247
Daniel Harrington’s deposition relates what he believed happened next. By his account,
the militia emerged from houses and tavern, “...proceeded towards the parade, and soon found
that a large body of Troops were marching towards us. Some of our Company were coming up to
the parade, and others had reached it; at which time the Company began to disperse. Whilst our
backs were turned on the Troops, we were fired on by them, and a number of our men were
instantly killed and wounded.”248 When the order was given to disperse, Anna’s father started to
leave the common. He reached the wall at the edge of the common by Merriam barn when he
was struck by a British bullet. Robert Munroe was killed instantly.249 Anna, whose vantage point
was so good that Doolittle chose to draw his picture of the battle from her house, must have seen
her father fall.250 Levi, who watched events closely enough to claim later that the British had
definitely fired first, must also have witnessed his grandfather’s death.251
When the British troops moved on to Concord, young Levi reportedly ran to the top of
the hill behind his house to watch their march.252 Meanwhile, someone (probably Daniel and
other kin) brought Robert Munroe’s body home to his daughter’s house. Pastor Jonas Clarke,
aware that the British must return down the road through Lexington, arranged a quick mass
burial for the eight townsmen killed that morning. We do not know if Daniel and Anna were
present to witness this sad ceremony, or to help cover the mass grave with branches to disguise it
as a pile of brush for fear that the British might desecrate the site on their return.
Daniel, Anna’s two brothers, and Lt. Tidd survived the morning encounter. They were no
doubt among the remnant of Capt. Parker’s company that reassembled to march to Concord in
247 Levi
Harrington, “Account of the Battle of Lexington,” 1845 testimony. Lexington Historical Society. Typescript
in the Cary Memorial Library.
248 Deposition of Daniel Harrington, April 25, 1775, see Appendix.
249 Frank Warren Coburn, The Battle of April 19 1775 in Lexington, Concord, Lincoln, Arlington, Cambridge,
Somerville, and Charleston, Massachusetts (Lexington, Mass.: Published by the Author, 1912), p. 66.
250 Samuel A. Drake, Historic Fields and Mansions of Middlesex (Boston: James R. Osgood & Co., 1874), p. 361.
251 Canavan, p. 120.
252 Levi testified “After the Americans had left the Common, the Grenadiers immediately took up the line of march
for Concord. The undersigned then went up to Moores’ where the Almshouse now stands and on to a hill close by,
from whence, after concealing himself from their sight, he saw the troops pass over the hill, then changing his
position he got a sight of them as they marched over Fiske’s hill on the way to Concord. He then returned home in
safety.” Testimony of Levi Harrington, “The Battle of Lexington,” 1845.
104
the early afternoon. The Lexington militia met the retreating British just inside the town lines.
Not long after, Percy’s reinforcements arrived with artillery support. Daniel was probably
present as cannon balls punctured the common, the meeting house, and his own front porch.253
(His son Levi saved and displayed one of those cannon balls in the blacksmith shop for years.)
Life did not soon return to normal for Daniel Harrington. During the summer, an
epidemic probably spread from the colonists’ encampments outside of Cambridge ravaged
Lexington; Daniel lost his mother-in-law in August and his baby daughter Eusebia few months
later. In Lexington, life around the common was not life as usual. Some families, such as Jonas
Clarke’s, sent mothers and children to live with kin farther inland for safety. The schools
remained closed that summer. The Boston Gazette was not printed for several months, so news
did not travel through Buckman tavern in its usual fashion. The town’s boys and men enlisted for
campaigns in Cambridge and Charleston. Hired help was hard to find. Trade was interrupted and
goods ran low.
Daniel’s house, of course, was not the only one in Lexington that needed repair after the
battle. His wife’s aunt, Lydia Mulliken, lost everything. Robert Harrington, Daniel’s father, also
suffered damage to his house. Daniel repaired his porch, but it would take longer to repair the
other scars of that morning. Sharing the confusion and horror of battle with his close kin and
friends, witnessing the violent death of his father-in-law and his next-door neighbor Jonathan
Harrington (son of Henry, not the fifer), having his property senselessly damaged, must have left
Daniel with no illusions about the glory of war. Though others would retell the events of that
morning for years, it is likely that Daniel and Anna Harrington had no wish to re-live April 19th.
The men who, like Daniel, participated in the action on the common that morning
fulfilled the militia’s original, and now revived, purpose: to provide for the defense of the town.
They had done so at great cost to some, because they believed it was their civil, political, and
religious duty to protect their families’ liberty and property from what they perceived to be a
savage threat. Many of these impressions were the consequence of their participation – as
provincial army, not militia, in the previous wars of empire.
253
Canavan, p. 120.
105
Bibliography
Primary Sources
Lexington Tax Records 1750 and 1774, Microfilm, Cary Memorial Library, Lexington, Mass.
Lexington Town Meeting Records, Transcription, Lexington Historical Society
Probate Records, Massachusetts Archives, Boston, Mass.
Sermons on Rev. Jonas Clarke, Manuscript and Printed, Lexington Historical Society Archives
Clarke, Jonas. Opening of the War of the Revolution, 18th April, 1775. A Brief Narrative of the
Principal Transactions of that Day, by Jonas Clarke, Pastor of the Church in Lexington.
Appended to a sermon preached by him in Lexington, April 19, 1776. Printed by the
Lexington Historical Society, Lexington, Mass., 1901
Clarke, Jonas. Interleaved Almanac, Manuscript in the Lexington Historical Society Archives
Parker Family Papers and Account Books, Manuscript, Lexington Historical Society Archives
Various Manuscript Documents in the Archives of the Lexington Historical Society
Depositions, Journals of Each Provincial Congress of Massachusetts, May, 1775
The Manual Exercise as Order by His Majesty in 1764 Together with Plans and Explanations of
the Method Generally Practis’d at Reviews and Field Days, etc. New York: Printed by H.
Gaine at his Printing Office at the Bible and Crown in Hanover Square, 1775.
Benson John Lossing. “The Fifer at Lexington,” in Hours with the Living Men and Women of
the Revolution: A Pilgrimage. New York: Funk & Wagnalls, 1889.
Muzzey, Artemas. The Battle of Lexington: with Personal Recollections of Men Engaged in It.
Boston: D. Clapp & Son, Printers, 1877.
Goss, E.H. “Jonathan Harrington, the Last Survivor of the Battle of Lexington,” in Potter’s
American Monthly: An Illustrated Magazine of History, literature, Science and Art. Vol.
V, 1875
Hudson, Charles “Military Affairs” History of the Town of Lexington, Vol. 1. Boston: Houghton
Mifflin, 1913
Canavan, Michael Joseph. Canavan Papers, Cary Memorial Library, Lexington, Mass.
Drake, Samuel Adams. Historic Fields and Mansions of Middlesex.Boston: James R. Osgood &
Col, 1874.
Secondary Sources
Anderson, Fred. A People’s Army: Massachusetts Soldiers & Society in the Seven Year’s War
Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1984.
Boucher, Ronald L. “The Colonial Militia as a Social Institution: Salem, Massachusetts, 17641775,” Military Affairs, Vol. 37, No. 4 (Dec. 1973), pp. 125-30.
Coburn, Frank Warren. The Battle of April 19 1775 in Lexington, Concord, Lincoln, Arlington,
Cambridge, Somerville, and Charleston, Massachusetts. Lexington, Mass.: Published by
the Author, 1912.
Fischer, David Hackett. Paul Revere’s Ride, New York: Oxford University Press, 1994
French, Allen. The Day of Concord and Lexington: The Nineteenth of April, 1775. Boston: Little,
Brown and Company, 1925.
106
Gross, Robert. The Minutemen and their World. New York: Hill and Wang, 1976.
Hudson, Charles. The History of the Town of Lexington Vols. I and II.
Kollen, Richard P. Lexington, Massachusetts: Treasures from Historic Archives, Charleston,
S.C.: History Press 2006
Mook, H. Telfer. “Training Day in New England,” New England Quarterly, Dec. 1938, pp. 675697
Shy, John W. “A New Look at Colonial Militia,” William and Mary Quarterly, Vol. 20, No. 2
(Apr. 1963), pp. 175-185
Smith, Jonathan. Peterborough, New Hampshire in the American Revolution. Peterborough
Historical Society, 1913
Radabaugh, Jack S. “The Militia of Colonial Massachusetts,” Military Affairs, Vol. 18, No. 1
(Spring, 1954), pp. 1-18.
• Bryant, Albert W. “The Military Organizations of Lexington,” Vol. 2.
• Sampson, G.W. “Robert Munroe,” Vol. 1.
• Parker, Elisabeth S. “Capt John Parker,” Vol. 1.
• Harrington, Elizabeth W. “A Few Words for Our Grandmothers of 1775,” Vol. 1.
• Bryant, Albert W. “The Munroe Tavern,” Vol. 3.
• Locke, Alonzo E. “Early Schools of Lexington,” Vol. 4.
• Starbuck, Alexander. “Historical Events Leading up to the Battles of Lexington and
Concord,” Vol. 4.
French, A Day at Concord and Lexington
107
Militia Appendix
A. Capt. Parker’s List of Militia Commands, “John Parker’s Account Book” c.1764 -1775
[Left hand Column]
Joyne your R[ight] h[and] to your f[irelock]
P[oise] your f[irelock]
Rest your f[irelock]
Cock your f[irelock]
Present
Fire
Recover your f[irelock]
Half cock your f[irelock]
Handel [handle] your Primer
Prime
Shut your Pans
Cast about to Charge
Handel your Cartridge
Open your Cartridge
Charge with Cartridge
Draw your Rammers
Shorten your Rammers
Put them in the Barrels
Ram Down your Cartridge
With Draw your Rammers
Shorten your Rammers
Return your Rammers
Cast of your f[irelock
Your Right hand under the Lock
Poise your f[irelock]
Shoulder your f[irelock]
Order your fire Lock
Ground your f[irelock]
Take up your f[irelock]
Club your f[irelock]
Secure your f[irelock]
Shoulder your fire Lock
[Right Hand Column of page]
Recover[?] half files,
Duble the depth of your Right flank
Left half files of Left flanck faces to the Left about, front half files of left flack faces to the left,
Rear half files of Right flanck faces to the Right. March 10 paces from the whole face to the
Right, March 10 paces face to the right.
Mary Fuhrer – LHS Consulting Historian– Feb. 2012
108
Militia Appendix
B. Lexington Militia’s Articles of Association and Rules and Regualtions – 1774
We, whose names are hereto subscribed, having agreed to associate ourselves together to
improve ourselves in the Art of Military do agree to Bind ourselves in the following articles, viz.
1. To choose a Captain, Lieutenant and Ensign once a year
2. To choose Serjeants and Clerk once a year
3. To meet in order for Discipline four times a ywE
4. We agree that every one of us being Absent when the Roll is called being duly warned shall
pay a Fine of eight pence unless a good excuse can be given to the Satisfaction of the
Company for his or their absence.
5. That any Person of the Company that shall interrupt the Capt. or Commanding Officer while
under Arms by talking, laughing or any Indecent Behaviour shall pay a fine of 3 shillings.
6. That if any Person of the Company shall interrupt the Clerk when calling the Roll or not
answer when they are called shall pay a fine of two shillings.
7. That none shall enlist in said company if they are under age without the consent of their
Parent or Master.
8. That if any refuse to pay a Fine when properly Demanded (being duly warned)shall be
dismissed from the Company forthwith
9. That any Person desiring to be admitted into said Company or dismissed form the same shall
have a vote of the Company for the same. [Estabrook in, others?]
10. That all Fines that shall be received of the delinquent shall be applied to the sole use of the
Company paying the Clerk a reasonable sum for collecting the same.
11. That the Captain failing of his duty of not calling the company together 4 times a year and
discipling them three hours at each meeting, shall pay a fine of 4 shillings, except that he can
give a reasonable excuse for the same to the Satisfaction of the Company.
109
Militia Appendix
C. Mean Debt Ratios, Average Assets at Death, and Sale of Real Estate for Debt for Men who in
Parker’s Militia Company
Based on a study of probates for men who lived in Lexington and were at least 25 years old at
the time of the battle, remained in Lexington until death, were probated with sufficient
information to determine assets and debts at the time of death. Men who were over 60 and chose
not to join the militia (2 cases) were excluded on grounds that they may have been infirm; men
who were over 60 and chose to join the militia (2 cases) were included.
Comparison of Mean Debt Ratios for Militia and Non-Militia at Time of Death
Member of Capt. Parker's
Company April 19th
Yes
No
Total
Mean
.360
.792
.489
N
28
12
40
Comparison of Average Assets at Time of Death for Militia and Non-Militia
Member of Capt. Parker's
Company April 19th
Yes
No
Total
Mean
3247.41
1673.91
2791.92
N
27
11
38
Comparison of Solvency/Vendue at Time of Death for Militia and Non-Militia
Militia members more likely to be solvent at time of death (47% versus 36%) and less likely to
have to sell part or all of real estate to settle debts (42% to 64%).
110
Militia Appendix
D. “Declaration of Independence” or Fealty Oath
"Colony Of Massachusetts Bay, 1776. "We, the subscribers, do each of us severally for
ourselves, profess, testify and declare before God and the world, that we verily believe that
the war, resistance and opposition in which the United American Colonies are now engaged
against the fleets and armies of Great Britain, is, on the part of the said Colonies, just and
necessary. And we do hereby severally promise, covenant, and engage to and with every person
of this Colony, who has or shall subscribe this declaration, or another of the same tenor and
words, that we will not, during the said war, directly or indirectly, in any ways, aid, abet, or
assist any of the naval or land forces of the king of Great Britain, or any employed by him, or
supply them with any kind of provisions, military or naval stores, or hold any correspondence
with, or communicate any intelligence to any of the officers, soldiers or marines belonging to the
said army or navy, or enlist or procure any others to enlist into the land or sea service of Great
Britain, or take up or bear arms against this or either of the United Colonies, or undertake to
pilot any of the vessels belonging to the said navy, or in any other way aid or assist them. But, on
the contrary, according to our best power and abilities, will defend by arms the United American
Colonies, and every part thereof, against every hostile attempt of the fleets and armies in the
service of Great Britain, or any of them, according to the requirements and directions of the laws
of this Colony, that now are, or may hereafter be provided for the regulation of the militia
thereof."
The words in bold are those typically used in public confessions and fealty oaths. The word in
italics appear to represent a promise not to assist the enemy.
E. Lexington: Percentage of Selectmen by Age Bracket over Time
1745-1755
1769-1779
70+
2%
0
60-69
31%
9%
50-59
53%
52%
40-49
12%
33%
30-39
2%
6%
20-29
0
0
F. Depositions
These depositions are from the Journals of the Continental Congress. They were printed in A
Narrative, of the Excursion and Ravages of the King’s Troops Under the Command of General
Gage on the Nineteenth of April, 1775. Together with the Depositions Taken by Order of
Congress to Support the Truth of It. Worcester: Printed by Isaiah Thomas, by order of the
Provincial Congress, 1775.
[Affidavit] No. 1.Lexington, April 25, 1775.
We, Solomon Brown, Jonathan Loring, and Elijah Sanderson, all of lawful Age, and of
Lexington, in the County of Middlesex, and Collony of the Massachusett Bay, in New England,
do testifie and declare, that on the evening of the Eighteenth of April, Instant, being on the Road
between Concord and Lexington, and all of us mounted on Horses, we were, about ten of the
111
Militia Appendix
Clock, suddenly surprized by nine Persons, whom we took to be Regular Officers, who Rode up
to us, mounted and armed, each having a Pistol in His Hand, and after Putting Pistols to our
Breasts, and seizing the Bridles of our Horses, they swore, that if we stirred another step, we
should be all Dead Men, upon which we surrendered our selves. They Detained us until Two
o'Clock the next morning, in which time they searched and greatly abused us; having first
enquired about the Magazine at Concord, whether any Guards were posted there, and whether
the bridges were up, and said four or five Regiments of Regulars would be in Possession of the
stores soon; they then brought us back to Lexington, eat the Horses Bridles and Girts, turned
them Loose, and then Left us. Solomon Brown,
Jonathan Loring,
Elijah Sanderson.
Lexington, April 25, 1775.
I, Elijah Saunderson, above named, do further testifie and declare, that I was on Lexington
Common, the Morning of the Nineteenth of April, aforesaid, having been dismissed by the
Officers abovementioned, and saw a Large Body of Regular Troops advancing toward Lexington
Company, many of whom were then dispersing. I heard one of the Regulars, whom I took to be
an officer, say, "Damn them, we will have them," and immediately the Regulars shouted aloud,
Run and fired upon the Lexington Company, which did not fire a Gun before the Regulars
Discharged on them; Eight of the Lexington Company were killed while they were dispersing,
and at a Considerable Distance from each other, and Many wounded, and altho' a spectator, I
narrowly Escaped with my Life.
Elijah Saunderson.
I, Thomas Rice Willard, of lawful age, do Testify and Declare, that being in the House of Daniel
Harrington,2 of said Lexington, on the Nineteenth Instant, in the morning, about half an hour
before sunrise, [I] looked out at the window of said house, and saw (as I suppose) about four
hundred Regulars in one Body, coming up the road, and marched toward the north part of the
Common, back of the meeting-house of said Lexington; and as soon as said Regulars were
against the east end of the meeting-house, the Commanding Officer said something, what I know
not; but upon that the Regulars ran till they came within about eight or nine rods of about an
Hundred of the Militia of Lexington, who were collected on said Common, at which time the
Militia of Lexington dispersed; then the Officers made an huzza, and the private Soldiers
succeeded them: Directly after this, an officer rode before the Regulars to the other side of the
body, and hallooed after the Militia of said Lexington, and said, "Lay Down your Arms, Damn
you, why Don't you lay Down your arms?" and that there was not a Gun fired till the Militia of
Lexington were Dispersed; and further saith not. Thomas Rice Willard.
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Simon Winship, of Lexington, in the County of Middlesex, and province of Massachusetts Bay,
New England, being of lawful age, testifieth and saith, that on the Nineteenth of April Instant,
about four o'Clock in the Morning, as he was passing the Publick Road in said Lexington,
peaceably and unarmed, about two miles and an half distant from the meeting-House in said
Lexington, he was met by a Body of the Kings regular Troops, and being stop'd by some Officers
of said Troops, was Commanded to Dismount; upon asking why he must dismount, he was
obliged by force to Quit his Horse, and ordered to march in the midst of the Body, and being
Examined whether he had been Warning the Minute Men, he answered No, but had been out,
and was then returning to his fathers. Said Winship further testifies, that he marched with said
Troops, untill he came within about half-a-Quarter of a Mile of said meeting-House, where an
Officer commanded the Troops to halt, and then to prime and load: this being done, the said
Troops marched on till they came within a few Rods of Captain Parkers Company, who were
partly collected on the place of parade, when said Winship observed an Officer at the head of
said Troops, flourishing his Sword, and with a Loud Voice, giving the word fire, fire, which was
instantly followed by a Discharge of Arms from said regular Troops, and said Winship is
positive, and in the most solemn manner declares, that there was no Discharge of arms on either
side, till the word fire was given, by the said Officer as above.
Simon Winship.
I, John Parker, of lawful Age, and Commander of the Militia in Lexington, do testify and
declare, that on the 19th Instant in the Morning, about one of the Clock, being informed that
there were a Number of Regular Officers, riding up and down the Road, stopping and insulting
People as they passed the Road; and also was informed that a Number of Regular Troops were
on their March from Boston in order to take the Province Stores at Concord, ordered our Militia
to meet on the Common in said Lexington to consult what to do, and concluded not to be
discovered, nor meddle or make with said Regular Troops (if they should approach) unless they
should insult or molest us; and, upon their sudden Approach, I immediately ordered our Militia
to disperse, and not to fire:--Immediately said Troops made their appearance and rushed
furiously, fired upon, and killed eight of our Party without receiving any Provocation therefor
from us.
John Parker.
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Militia Appendix
I, John Robins, being of lawful Age, do Testifye and say, that on the Nineteenth Instant, the
Company under the Command of Captain John Parker, being drawn up (sometime before sun
Rise) on the Green or Common, and I being in the front Rank, there suddenly appear'd a Number
of the Kings Troops, about a Thousand, as I thought, at the distance of about 60 or 70 yards from
us Huzzaing, and on a quick pace towards us, with three Officers in their front on Horse Back,
and on full Gallop towards us, the foremost of which cryed, throw down your Arms ye Villains,
ye Rebels! upon which said Company Dispersing, the foremost of the three Officers order'd their
Men, saying, fire, by God, fire! at which Moment we received a very heavy and close fire from
them, at which Instant, being wounded, I fell, and several of our men were shot Dead by me.
Captain Parker's men I believe had not then fired a Gun, and further the Deponent saith not.
John Robins.
No. 6.Lexington, April 25, 1775.
We, Benjamin Tidd, of Lexington, and Joseph Abbot, of Lincoln, in the County of Middlesex,
and Colony of Massachusetts Bay, in New England, of lawful age, do testify and Declare that, on
the morning of the Nineteenth of April Instant, about 5 o'Clock, being on Lexington Common,
and mounted on Horses, we saw a Body of regular Troops Marching up to the Lexington
Company, which was then dispersing: Soon after, the regulars fired, first, a few guns, which we
took to be pistols from some of the Regulars who were mounted on Horses, and then the said
Regulars fired a Volley or two before any guns were fired by the Lexington Company; our
Horses immediately started, and we rode off. And further say not.
Benjamin Tidd,
Joseph Abbot.1
[Note 1: 1 Sworn to before William Reed, Josiah Johnson and William Stickney.]
We, Nathaniel Mullikin, Phillip Russell, Moses Harrington, jun. Thomas and Daniel Harrington,
William Grimes, William Tidd, Isaac Hastings, Jonas Stone, jun. James Wyman, Thaddeus
Harrington, John Chandler, Joshua Reed, jun. Joseph Simonds, Phineas Smith, John Chandler,
jun. Reuben Lock, Joel Viles, Nathan Reed, Samuel Tidd, Benjamin Lock, Thomas Winship,
Simeon Snow, John Smith, Moses Harrington the 3d, Joshua Reed, Ebenezer Parker, John
Harrington, Enoch Wellington, John Hosmer, Isaac Green, Phineas Stearns, Isaac Durant, and
Thomas Headley,2 jun. all of Lawful age, and Inhabitants of Lexington in the County of
Middlesex, and Colony of the Massachusetts Bay, in New England, do testify and declare, that
on the 19th of April instant, about one or two o'Clock in the morning, being Informed that
several officers of the Regulars had, the evening before, been riding up and down the Road, and
had detained and Insulted the Inhabitants passing the same; and also understanding that a body of
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Regulars were marching from Boston towards Concord, with intent (as it was supposed) to take
the Stores, belonging to the Colony, in that town, we were alarmed, and having met at the place
of our Company's Parade, were dismissed by our Captain, John Parker, for the Present, with
orders to be ready to attend at the beat of the drum. We further testify and declare, that about five
o'Clock in the morning, hearing our drum heat, we proceeded towards the Parade, and soon
found that a Large body of troops were marching towards us: Some of our Company were
coming up to the Parade, and others had reached it; at which time the Company began to
disperse: Whilst our backs were Turned on the Troops, we were fired on by them, and a number
of our men were Instantly killed and wounded. Not a Gun was fired, by any Person in our
Company, on the Regulars, to our knowledge, before they fired on us, and they continued Firing
untill we had all made our Escape.
[Signed by each of the above deponents.]1
We, Nathanael Parkhurst, Jonas Parker, John Munroe, jun. John Winship, Solomon Pierce, John
Muzzy, Abner Meeds, John Bridge, jun. Ebenezer Bowman, William Munroe the 3d, Micah
Hager, Samuel Saunderson, Samuel Hastings, and James Brown, of Lexington, in the County of
Middlesex, and Colony of the Massachusetts Bay, in New England, and all of Lawfull age, do
Testify and Say, that, on the Morning of the Nineteenth of April Instant, about one or two
o'Clock, being informed, that a Number of Regular Officers had been Riding up and down the
Road the evening and night preceding, and that some of the Inhabitants, as they were passing,
had been Insulted by the Officers, and stopped by them; and being also Informed, that the
Regular Troops were on their March from Boston, in order (as it was said) to take the Colony
Stores, then Deposited at Concord, we met on the Parade of our Company in this town; After the
Company had Collected, we were Ordered, by Captain Parker, (who Commanded us) to Disperse
for the Present, and to be Ready to attend the beat of the Drum, and Accordingly the Company
went into houses near the place of Parade. We further Testify and Say, that, about five o'Clock in
the morning, we attended the beat of our Drum, and were formed on the Parade; we were faced
towards the Regulars then marching up to us, and some of our Company were comeing to the
parade with their backs towards the Troops, and Others on the parade, began to Disperse when
the Regulars fired on the Company, before a Gun was fired by any of our company on them.
They killed eight of our company, and wounded several, and continued their fire, untill we had
all made our escape.
[Signed by each of the deponents.]1
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Militia Appendix
I, Timothy Smith, of Lexington, in the County of Middlesex, and Colony of Massachusetts bay,
in New England, being of lawful age, do testify and declare, that, on the morning of the
nineteenth of April instant, being at Lexington Common, as a spectator, I saw a large body of
regular troops marching up towards the Lexington company, then dispersing, and likewise saw
the regular troops fire on the Lexington company, before the latter fired a gun; I immediately ran,
and a volley was discharged at me, which put me in imminent danger of losing my life; I soon
returned to the Common, and saw eight of the Lexington men who were killed, and lay bleeding
at a considerable distance from each other; and several were wounded: And further saith not.
Timothy Smith.1
We, Levi Mead and Levi Harrington, both of Lexington, in the County of Middlesex, and
Colony of the Massachusetts bay, in New England, and of lawfull age, do Testify and Declare,
that on the morning of the Nineteenth of April, being on Lexington Common, as spectators, we
saw a Large body of Regular Troops marching up towards the Lexington Company, and some of
the Regulars, on Horses, whom we took to be officers, Fired a Pistol or two on the Lexington
Company, which were then dispersing: These were the First Guns that were Fired, and they were
immediately followed by several volleys from the Regulars, by which Eight men, belonging to
said Company, were killed, and several wounded.
Levi Harrington,
Levi Mead.1
I, William Draper, of lawful Age, and an Inhabitant of Colrain, in the County of Hampshire, and
Colony of Massachusetts Bay, in New England, do testify and Declare, that, being on the
Parade of said Lexington, April 19th Instant, about half an hour before sunrise, the King's
Regular Troops appeared at the meeting House of Lexington. Captain Parkers Company, who
were drawn up back of said meeting house on the Parade, turned from said Troops, making their
escape, by dispersing; in the mean time, the Regular Troops made an huzza, and ran towards
Captain Parkers Company, who were dispersing, and, immediately after the huzza was made, the
Commanding Officer of said troops (as I took him) gave the command to the said troops, "fire!
fire! damn you, fire!" and immediately, they fired before any of Captain Parkers Company fired,
I then being within three or four Rods of said Regular Troops: And further say not.
William Draper.1[Note 1: 1 Sworn to before William Reed, Josiah Johnson and William
Stickney.]
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Militia Appendix
No. 12. Lexington, April 23, 1775.
I, Thomas Fessenden, of Lawful age, testify and Declare, that, being in a Pasture near the
meeting house, at said Lexington, on Wednesday last, at about half an hour before sunrise, I saw
a number of Regular troops pass speedily by said meeting house, on their way towards a
Company of Militia of said Lexington, who were assembled to the number of about one hundred
in a company, at the Distance of eighteen or twenty rods from said meeting house; and after they
had passed by said meeting house, I saw three Officers, on horseback, advance to the front of
said Regulars, when one of them, being within six rods of the said Militia, cryed out, "Disperse,
you Rebels, immediately," on which he Brandished his sword over his head three times;
meanwhiles the second Officer, who was about two rods behind him, fired a Pistol, pointed at
said Militia, and the Regulars kept huzzaing till he had finished brandishing his sword, and when
he had thus finished brandishing his sword, he pointed it Down towards said Militia, and
immediately on which the said Regulars fired a Volley at the Militia, and then I ran off as fast as
I could, while they continued firing, till I got out of their reach. I further testify, that as soon as
ever the officer Cryed "Disperse, you rebels," the said Company of Militia dispersed every way,
as fast as they could, and, while they were Dispersing, the regulars kept firing at them
incessantly: And further saith not.
Thomas Fessenden.1
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Militia Appendix
No. 13. Lincoln, April 23, 1775.
I, John Bateman, belonging to the fifty-second regiment, commanded by Colonel Jones, on
Wednesday morning, on the nineteenth Day of April instant, was in the Party marching to
Concord, being at Lexington, in the County of Middlesex, being nigh the meeting house in said
Lexington, there was a small party of men gathered together in that place, when our said troops
marched by, and I Testify and Declare, that I heard the word of command given to the Troops to
fire, and some of said Troops Did fire, and I saw one of said small party lay Dead on the ground
nigh said meeting house; and I testify, that I never heard any of the Inhabitants so much as fire
one gun on said Troops.
John Bateman.1
[Note 1: 1 Sworn to before John Cummings and Duncan Ingraham.]
[Part of Affidavit No. 18] Worcester, April 26, 1775.
Hannah Bradish, of that part of Cambridge, called Menotomy, and daughter of timothy Paine, of
Worcester, in the county of Worcester, esq. of lawful age, testifies and says, that about five
o'clock on Wednesday last, afternoon, being in her bed-chamber, with her infant child, about
eight days old, she was surprised by the firing of the king's troops and our people, on their return
from Concord. She being weak and unable to go out of her house, in order to secure herself and
family, they all retired into the kitchen, in the back part of the house. She soon found the house
surrounded with the king's troops; that upon observation made, at least seventy bullets were shot
into the front part of the house; several bullets lodged in the kitchen where she was, and one
passed through an easy chair she had just gone from. The door of the front part of the house was
broken open; she did not see any soldiers in the house, but supposed, by the noise, they were in
the front. After the troops had gone off, she missed the following things, which, she verily
believes, were taken out of the house by the king's troops, viz: one rich brocade gown, called a
negligée, one lutestring gown, one white quilt, one pair of brocade shoes, three shifts, eight white
aprons, three caps, one case of ivory knives and forks, and several other small articles. Hannah
Bradish.
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Section V: Servitude and Slavery
In this paper we will consider the experience of Lexington’s most debased dependents: its
landless laborers, paupers, and slaves. [The dependency of woman and youth are discussed
elsewhere.]. We will also consider the changing status of Lexington’s free people of color as
economic conditions challenged the definition of “free-man.” This is an overview for the purpose
of re-interpreting the new Buckman Tavern exhibit; it does not attempt to cover colonial
servitude and slavery in full. For more information on this topic, please consult the bibliography
at the end of the paper.
The Poor
Freemen in Lexington were those men who owned land and were thus independent. Their
land-owning qualified them to act as full stakeholders in town affairs, voting at town meeting,
holding office, etc. But what of those adult men who did not own land? They were not
technically free. They could not produce their subsistence needs from their own estate, but had
to sell their labor to another to survive. Though in 2012 we do not consider working for wages a
state of dependence, in 1775 Lexington they did. The wage earner was dependent upon his
employer, had to do his employer’s bidding, and, if he did not own his own home, also had to
live in another’s household and be subject to another man as master. This was considered a lowly
state of servitude.
However, not all landless men were considered truly poor. Some were without land
because of their place in the life-cycle. Young men between 18 and approximately 26 were
frequently landless as they awaited their inheritances. They might labor for and in their father’s
household, or they might labor for another. Even men such as Joseph Loring Jr., who expected to
come into a sizeable inheritance, chose to work “out” for some years to earn extra capital with
which to marry and set up independent households. Nor were older men who had distributed all
their property to their heirs and were now living in one of their children’s families considered
poor.
But there were others who were landless with no hope of ever owning a place of their
own. These were the truly poor. On the 1774 tax assessment there were twelve men who, though
in the prime property-owning years of their lives, yet were landless.254 Most of them came from
254
There are 53 men on the 1774 assessment who had no land. Ten of those men are what I would call transient
laborers. Their names were not common in Lexington, and they fail to appear in any Lexington vital records or
genealogies, indicating that their stay here was likely brief. They were most likely men living with and working for
others while earning and saving for their future purchase of a farm elsewhere. Of the 43 remaining men without
land, I can determine the ages for 33. Nineteen of those are very young (under 30) and four are old (over 60), so it is
probable that their poverty is age-related. These are not permanently poor men, but men who are awaiting or have
disbursed inheritance.
119
large families where the inheritance had to be split too many ways. I have included their stories
in the appendix.
What was the poor man’s existence like? Men who did not own homes were destined to
live in another man’s home, and consequently, under another man’s government. Consider the
case of Amos Tidd. From 1766 through 1770, while in his late thirties, Amos Tidd worked
almost full time for Rev. Jonas Clarke. He was married and had six or seven small children. Tidd
may have owned his own home but no land, or he may have boarded his family with the Clarkes,
for Rev. Clarke notes in his diary Tidd family details, such when a youth is scalded. But in either
case, Amos Tidd and his family lived a precarious existence. He was repeatedly a debtor to
Clarke for life’s essentials – hay, potatoes, peas, butter, cash. In addition to dependence, the
Tidds struggled with the insecure nature of intermittent, seasonal, and irregular work. Men like
Tidd who were forced to sell their labor and serve another master faced a bleak future in
Lexington. By 1774, Amos Tidd and his family had left town, headed to greener pastures. It
likely seemed the only way to escape the cycle of dependence and debt.
Paupers and Debtors
A more abject form of bondage than being dependent on another master was being
dependent upon the town for support. The ranks of Lexington’s poor dependents were usually
filled with widows, orphan children, and the disabled or incompetent. But sometimes – and
increasingly in the years before the Revolution as opportunities contracted in Lexington – ablebodied men fell on hard times and were unable to support themselves or their families. These
people went “on the dole.” They were a worrisome burden to the town, which was responsible
for their support.255 Residents approved steps to prevent poor people from moving into town;
allocated fees and fines for civil offenses to the care the indigent; and repeatedly (though
unsuccessfully) attempted to establish a poor house, where the indigent would be lodged but
would be forced to work to cover their expenses.256 In the absence of such an institution, they
relied on the traditional system of vendue for distributing the poor among families in the town:
they put each individual up for auction, sending him or her to live with whoever offered to feed,
clothe, and house him for the smallest charge to the town.
This poor relief “safety net” in colonial Lexington was not designed for kindness or
comfort. To our modern sensibilities it seems cruel. There was the humiliation of public auction,
255
Between 1755 and 1775, the number of poor people who had to be supported by the town rose steadily
and significantly. In the early years of this period, only two or three people – usually widows – were
dependent on the town. In 1764, as the post-war recession set in, that number jumped to twelve, and
continued to rise for the next decade. On the eve of the Revolution, there was nearly twice that number of
dependent poor. See Lexington Town Meeting Records, 1755-1775, typescript in the collection of the
Education Department, National Heritage Museum, Lexington, Mass.
256
To address the financial strain that supporting the poor put on the rest of the town, petitioners twice
asked town meeting to build a workhouse, but the warrant articles were not acted on. Fines for breaking
the peace were dedicated to poor support, as was any old or decaying wood on town land. In 1767, as the
town struggled to support 21 dependent poor, including families with children, town meeting voted to
prosecute any resident who allowed non-resident poor to reside in their homes without informing the
selectman, as the law dictated. Lexington Town Meeting Records, 1755-1775.
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being “sold-to-the-lowest-bidder,” an ignominious reminder of the slave block. Families were
often divided, distributed where people were willing to take them in. Once living in another’s
household, those on poor relief received whatever their new master felt was sufficient for food
and clothing, and were obliged to do whatever work the master could wring from them. The head
of the house was obligated to provide the essentials for their subsistence, but was also
empowered to enforce discipline and “family government” in whatever way he saw fit. This
certainly was a form of bondage.
Consider Ignatius Merriam. “Egg” as he was locally called was married and had six
children. At one point he owned a house on Bedford Road not far from Philip Burdoo. But he
was unable to remain independent; he and his entire family had to be supported by the town from
1763 on. Or, consider the Acadians. At the British conquest of Nova Scotia, French Canadian
residents of that province were shipped into exile in various New England towns. One family,
Augustus Heibert, his wife and children, were assigned to Lexington. For nearly five years the
town reluctantly paid for the family to be housed, fed, and clothed. It must have been a harsh
existence: forced to live among an unwelcoming people who did not speak their language, trust
their loyalty, or allow any practice of their “papist religion.” John Dickenson of Pennsylvania
wrote a letter to the people of Canada trying to persuade them that they had been “conquered into
liberty,” had been made part of the freest people in the world – but surely the Heiberts, as well as
Merriams, rued this sort of “liberty.” The paupers of Lexington lacked any degree of selfdetermination: they were in bondage to those who supported them, forced to do their work and
their bidding, and to accept whatever conditions they were subjected to.
And yet, Ignatius Merriam and Augustus Heibert were fortunate compared to those
saddled with debt. Debtors could be – and were – sent to prison by creditors, who could order
them held until the debt was settled. Innkeeper John Raymond struggled with the debt against his
father’s estate and endured the humiliation of bondage and chains. In pitiful letters he begged for
mercy from the magistrates, for time to raise the needed funds and to appeal to friends to come to
his aid. In June of 1773, he humbly begged Judge Danforth to delay the auction of his inn for
debts, as “I have encouragement of being set at liberty before long . . . ”257 But Raymond was not
released. Five months later he again wrote to the magistrate, begging for consideration, “as I was
brought here and kept here, . . . [and] could not do anything to help my family, and . . . my
family should be turned out into the street as they are threatened to be and had not time to
provide a place to go to . . .” Pitifully, he wrote again in December, asking if the Judge would
“stand as my friend as I have so many against me and nobody to speak for me at all and being
confined here the [others] take advantage they can of me as there is not nobody to object against
what they say.”258 The widow Lydia Mulliken finally came to his aid, paying off his creditors
and purchasing the tavern, while allowing John, his wife, and five young children to live in the
place while the title was cleared. John would ultimately be freed from the bonds of debt by a
British bullet, a year and half after his release from prison. We must wonder if his notion of
liberty differed from that of his townsmen on the common on April 19th.
Slavery
257
258
As quoted in Michael J. Canavan, Canavan Papers, typescript, Cary Memorial Library, Lexington, Mass., p. 404.
As quoted in Canavan, Canavan Papers p. 405.
121
Slavery existed in New England nearly from settlement. It was, however, a different
experience of bondage from the plantation slavery of the south, distinguished by New England’s
laws and the nature of New England’s economy. Northern slaves were property, but they also
retained their existence as persons before the law. This critical difference gave them certain legal
rights: males could sue (including suit for their own freedom) in courts, serve as witnesses at
trials, be tried by a jury, hold property, and sue their masters for “wounding or immoderately
beating them.” Legally, they were entitled to “Christian usage” by their masters, who were not
allowed to deny their humanity.259
There was another critical difference between northern and southern black slaves: there
were far fewer of them. Especially in the country towns such as Lexington, the slave population
rarely exceeded one to two percent.260 In Lexington, for example, there were on average no more
than 20 slaves at any one time during most of the 18th century.261 Compared to the plantation
South, where blacks often outnumbered whites, Lexington more easily absorbed the
“differentness” of black skin. There were two major consequences of this white-to-black ratio.
First, whites in rural New England tended to feel less threatened by the presence of blacks,
developed more familiar relations with them, and were more open and flexible in their
construction of racial difference. Second, blacks in rural New England had difficulty maintaining
their cultural identity, as it was so difficult for them to gather in any sizeable number. “The
comparatively tiny numbers of blacks and scattered slaveholdings encouraged rapid acculturation
of Africans” into white society.262 Still, we need to be careful: I have identified over 100 slave
and free blacks who lived in Lexington in the 18th century (see Appendix), and this reflects only
those who managed to find their way into the record books. These people were a real and present
part of Lexington’s story.
Another difference between northern and southern slavery was that New England’s rural
mixed family farms did not need the sorts of labor that plantations did. Most farms operated on
family labor, and only a few wealthier farmers supplemented their work force with an enslaved
field hand or a domestic. Those who did own slaves rarely owned more than one or two slaves;
the most I have documented in Lexington was four in the family of Francis Bowman in the
259
Catherine Adams & Elizabeth H. Pleck, Love of Freedom: Black Women in Colonial and
Revolutionary New England (New York: Oxford University Press, 2010), p. 4; Betty Wood, The
Origins of American Slavery: Freedom and Bondage in the English Colonies (New York: Hill
and Wang, 1997), pp. 105-6; Swelley, Jedidiah and Simmons, John F. History of the Town of
Hanover Massachusetts, (1910).
260
The 1754 slave census for Massachusetts indicated that 1.7% of the population was enslaved. Studies of free
blacks in rural Massachusetts in the early 19th century indicate that this percentage did not increase even into the
years of abolition activism. See “Historical Background on People of Color in Rural New England in the Early 19th
Century,” Research Archives, Old Sturbridge Village, Sturbridge, Mass.
261
Richard Kollen, “Slavery in Lexington,” Lecture, March 17, 2011, Grace Chapel. Not that Hudson claims there
were only five slaves in Lexington at the time of the Revolution, and Canavan speculates that they weren’t more
than a dozen. Kollen and I agree that these numbers are likely low.
262
This struggle is fully explored in William D. Piersen, Black Yankees: The Development of an Afro-American
Subculture in Eighteenth-Century New England (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1988).
122
1740s.263 As the lone person of color in the family, slaves most likely lived in their master’s
house, worked alongside their master’s children or hired help, ate the same meals, and shared the
contours and patterns of their daily agrarian life.264 As a result, “most slaves lives were closely
intertwined with those of their white owners.”
With a degree of legal protection, a more flexible approach to race, less fear of slave
difference and potential, and more integration into white family and culture, we may be tempted
to envision Northern slavery as benevolent. It was not. Slaves were still property, and their
physical being, family security, and quality of life all lay in the hands of their masters. They were
dispossessed people and they had their own visions of liberty.
Who owned slaves in Lexington, and why? In the appendix I list the family names of all
those who are documented as slave owners in 18th century Lexington. The list includes all the
leading families in town – Bowmans, Reeds, Stones, Estabrooks, Bridges, Muzzeys, and other
town squires. One town historian noted that the slaveholders were people of wealth, refinement,
and learning. “The families owning two or three negro servants were considered of superior
importance, occupying the highest position of respectability and influence.”265 I have been able
to confirm that over half of those slave owners who can be identified were in the top ten percent
of Lexingtonians for assessed wealth; nearly 80% were among the top third for wealth. This is
similar to the findings in other rural towns. The reasons are fairly simple: adult slaves were
expensive, often among the most valuable possessions in a man’s inventory; supporting a slave
through life was expensive; only men with larger land holdings had need of permanent extra
labor; and slave-owning was a mark of social distinction. Wealthy men could prove their status
through ownership of a man- or maid-servant who freed him from dirtying his hands in the field
or freed his wife from soiling her hands in the washtub. Men who carried on a profession in
addition to farming, such as doctors and especially clergy, sometimes purchased slaves to both
mark their status and allow them time for their trade. Dick Kollen notes that in 1728, the people
of Lexington provided their minister, Rev. Hancock, £85 to purchase a slave. “Many of his and
later Rev. Jonas Clarke’s clerical colleagues owned slaves,” including half the Connecticut
clergy in 1774.266
How could Puritan New Englanders justify owning another person? Their political
philosophers had long reasoned that it was acceptable to enslave a prisoner taken in a just war.
On such reasoning, they enslaved Native American captives of the early Pequot Wars and
shipped them to the West Indies. Black Africans, they assumed, were captives of African wars.
Their reasoning was buttressed by a religious view of African slaves as the descendents of Ham,
a lost tribe of Israel, that had been blackened for their sinfulness. Black Africans had descended
into a bestial place, heathen and uncivilized, and it was considered an argument for their wellbeing to enslave and forcibly civilize this lost race. Black Africans were not Englishmen, with
263
In his 1744 will, Francis Adams makes provision for the distribution of three slaves to his
widow and one to his granddaughter. Manuscript 1788 in Ledger Book D, Page 99, Lexington
Historical Society, Lexington, Mass.
264
Adams and Pleck, Love of Freedom, p. 5.
C.A. Staples, “The Existence and the Extinction of Slavery in Massachusetts, Proceeedings of the Lexington
Historical Society, pp. 48-49.
266
Kollen, “Slavery in Lexington.”
265
123
their Magna Carta rights to liberty, but outsiders and “others” who had no birthright to freedom.
Finally, there was an economic justification: in a society where farming was equated with
economic independence, labor to make that land yield was essential to the white man’s liberty. In
New England in particular, a society in which orderliness, social hierarchy, and immutable rank
sustained stability, it seemed reasonable that some should be destined for hard manual labor, that
their social superiors might be freed for more noble work. This uncivilized, black-skinned,
utterly different “other” seemed suitably ranked lowest on the Great Chain of Being, a servant to
his betters.267 Many of these justifications, of course, would conflict with the emerging rhetoric
of natural rights and human equality.
The farmers of New England acquired their slaves in several ways. Some went to the port
cities and purchased “seasoned” imported slaves from the West Indies. Quark, a slave of John
Simonds’, took the last name of “Barbadoes,” perhaps reflecting his memories of his birthplace.
Some slaves carried lore of being stolen from their African homeland, and may indeed have
arrived on slave ships directly from that continent. But one could also purchase native-born
slaves in urban markets. Lexington’s Isaac Stone went to Boston in 1743, where P. John Jones
issued him a receipt for “one hundred pounds old tenor in full for a negro woman called
Betty.”268 If one must purchase a slave, the preferred prospect was usually a child. In 1752,
Daniel Tidd (father of the hapless Amos), bought a “certain Negro Boy named Adam being
about three years of age,” from a farmer in neighboring Woburn.269 Around the same time,
Swithern Reed traveled to Burlington and rode home with little Venus Munroe “in one saddlebag
and a demijohn of rum in the other.”270 It is hard to imagine the callousness with which whites
could take small children from their mothers. But one woman remembered in the early 1800s
that her grandmother regularly gave away her slave woman’s children when quite young. “When
asked if Dinah [the slave mother] felt badly about this, [she] explained,” Oh no, she did not care
any more for them than the cat when her kittens are taken from her.”271As one nineteenth-century
local historian remembered, “In the little country town the squire, two or three of the most
prosperous farmers, and often the minister, owned a ‘likely’ colored boy or girl, usually bought
when quite young.”272 “Many preferred to take slaves as infants to socialize them into the family
and accustom them to their master’s ways.”273 Some received slave infants as gifts, as masters
gave their slave’s progeny away, preferring not to be saddled with the expense of raising a child.
Other Lexingtonians gave slaves as marriage portions, or bequeathed them in their wills.274
267
There are many scholarly works that consider English justifications for enslaving black Africans. A brief
summary is included in Wood, The Origins of American Slavery. A classic on this topic is Edmund S. Morgan,
American Slavery, American Freedom: The Ordeal of Colonial Virginia (New York: W. W. Norton and Company,
Inc., 1975).
268
Manuscript Document 807, Lexington Historical Society Archives, Lexington, Mass.
269
“Bill of Sale for a Slave Boy,” Manuscript 71 in Ledgers Book W. p. 55., Lexington Historical Society Archives,
Lexington, Mass.
270
271
“Recollection from Uncle Thomas White and Aunt Mary White Davis,” original manuscript owned by Grace and
Alice White in 1946, lent to the author by descendants. This refers to the grandmother of Mary Adams Avery.
272
Henry S. Nourse, History of the Town of Harvard, Massachusetts, 1732-1894 (1894).
273
William D. Piersen, Black Yankees: The Development of an Afro-American Subculture in Eighteenth-Century
New England (Amherst, Mass.: University of Massachusetts Press, 1988), pp. 25-36.
274
Staples, ‘The Existence and extinction of Slavery,” p. 53.
124
Francis Bowman bequeathed three slaves to his wife, and one to his granddaughter in 1744.275
Joseph Estabrook allowed his negro man, Tony, to choose his master among Estabrook’s
heirs.276
Our understanding of “family slavery” in the north – where slaves were more fully
integrated into family life – should not cause us to romanticize the northern slave’s lot.
Lexington’s slaves likely worked with their masters, ate with the family and slept in the house,
perhaps by the fire or in the garret, but they were not treated as equals. They were always
reminded of their debased position, and they acted out that position in rituals of deference.
“Slaves entered the house through the side entrance or the door to the kitchen rather than the
main door. Free black men bowed before entreating a white gentleman to read a petition, and
both sexes addressed white people of higher social standing as Missy, Massa, or Master. . .
[Country slaves] usually attended the master’s church, walking behind him and his family during
the procession on Sunday morning . . . “277 For his own well-being, the Lexington’s “family”
slave learned to negotiate his relations with a dominant class.278
The primary purpose of the slave was to work, and work he – and she – did. Female
slaves’ most frequent work was laundry, the hardest and most hated of female responsibilities.
Doing the laundry required carrying heavy loads of water from the well, boiling and scrubbing
clothes, and countless hours with fire-heated irons, pressing the linens and cottons. Female slaves
were also set to scrubbing, soap-making, garden work, and even fieldwork when needed. Tavern
keepers frequently purchased slaves to assist with the heavy fireplace work, cooking, baking and
serving for customers, laundering linens, and tending to the heavy housekeeping.279 One scholar
estimates that as a result of her heavy labors, the average female slave in eighteenth-century New
England did not live much past age 40.280 Male slaves worked primarily as field hands, but some
were trained in specialized skills. Prince Estabrook may have been trained to operate the mill on
his master’s land. Male slaves were not infrequently lent to neighbors as hired help, with the
credit going usually to the master’s account. Rev. Clarke noted in 1773 when Mr. Samuel
Locke’s slave, Job, worked for him. Locke likely received the pay for Job’s work, though there
were occasions when a master might let a trusted male slave “hire himself out.” This may have
been the arrangement in the late 1760s when Prince Estabrook accompanied Edmund Munroe on
his fur-trading trips to Crown Point in upstate New York. And, despite the formal ban on slaves
bearing arms, many served in the French and Indian Wars and so earned their freedom. 281
One particularly tragic aspect of Northern family slavery was its pernicious effect on
slave family life. The low concentration of blacks made even meeting a potential spouse
challenging. Single blacks living in white households could not form families, and the absence of
275
Manuscript Will of Francis Bowman, 1788, Ledger Book D., p. 99, Lexington Historical Society Archives,
Lexington, Mass.
276
Canavan, Canavan Papers, p. 427-9.
277
278
Kollen, “Slavery in Lexington.”
279
Adams and Pleck, Love of Freedom, Chapter 1.
280
281
Benjamin Quarles, “The Colonial Militia and Negro Manpower, “ The Mississippi Historical Review, Vol. 45,
No. 4 (Mar., 1959), pp. 652.
125
that fundamental unit of socialization critically handicapped the formation of black culture.282
Even if they could meet and their masters allowed marriage (and many masters discouraged it),
married slaves could rarely reside in the same house.283 With over 100 documented slaves in 18th
century Lexington, there are only three documented slave marriages (and two marriages of
former slaves). Job, Samuel Locke’s slave who worked for Rev. Jonas Clarke, married Violet, a
slave of John Munroe in Lexington in 1767. They bore two known children. Compared to white
marriages, which commonly produced eight or ten children, this low level of slave fertility was
the norm. Slave women’s heavy labor led to low fertility. Along with limited cohabitation, slaves
were often discouraged by their masters from having children. To northern masters, slave
children meant sharing more of their cramped living quarters, caring for another mouth, and
waiting years for productive labor. If a couple did produce offspring, they still faced obstacles to
forming a cohesive family life. Some masters gave infants away. Others “routinely separated
husbands from wives and parents from children and only reluctantly extended visitation
rights.”284 In the face of such obstacles, the formation of slave families was far harder in New
England than in the plantation south. Northern slave families languished.
Another often tragic aspect of northern slave life was the arrival of old age. White
families, too, sometimes struggled with supporting the elderly, especially widows. But most
frequently, white seniors made arrangements with their children to guarantee some part of their
inheritance in exchange for a promise of care in old age and sickness, and of a decent burial.
Slaves, whose own children -- if they had any -- had often been long distributed elsewhere,
lacked such a safety net. It was not uncommon for a slave that had been acquired as a child,
brought up in his or her master’s family, and spent the whole of his or her productive years
working for them, to be “freed” upon reaching old age. Some masters, realizing that there was no
more gainful labor to be had from the slave, decided that they did not want to support them in the
infirmity of old age. Venus Munroe, for example, who had been brought to the Reed family as an
infant, refused the freedom offered her in her old age. Her master at that point, Capt. Jim Reed,
had tried to set her free and force the town to support her as a pauper, but she would not have it.
She refused to leave the only home she had every known.285 Legal depositions taken in 1749
appear to indicate that Francis Bowman’s widow, Ruth, had been made to swear by her dying
husband to care for his three slaves, a promise she might not have kept, for two of the three
appear to have perished not long after their master.286 Manumitting one’s elderly slaves and
leaving them to the care of the town apparently was common practice, for by mid-century many
local towns required “any person desiring to free his slaves to give bonds that the freed person
would not become a public charge.”287
Religion offered a limited entrée to white society and respectability, but for many slaves
it also offered limited appeal. During the religious flowering of the Great Awakening in the
282
This is a major point of Piersen’s book, Black Yankees.
Ira Berlin, Many Thousands Gone: The First Two Centuries of Slavery in North America (Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, 1998), p. 185.
284
Ibid.
285
286
Deposition of Francis Bowman and John Hancock concerning the disposition of the Negro slaves of Francis
Bowman, Manuscript 1789 in Ledger Book D, p. 101. Phillis died in 1744, Pompey in 1746.
287
Abram English Brown, History of the Town of Bedford, Middlesex County, Massachusettsto 1891. (Published by
the author, 1891), p. 31.
283
126
1740s, many New England churches experienced a burst of spiritual emotionalism. The
dynamic preaching, open expressions of joy and angst, highly charged conversion testimonies,
and a new focus on the workings of the spirit appealed to slaves, echoing to a degree the nature
of African spiritual expression. The rituals of baptism, communion, legal marriage, funeral
sermons, and a decent burial also had positive appeal to some blacks, especially those with
wealthy masters who had learned to read and appreciate these markers of respect and dignity.288
Across New England, some black Yankees became Christians and found limited acceptance in
their local churches.289 The church records of Lexington reflect this momentary enthusiasm,
with a brief burst of five or six adult slave baptisms in the late 1730s and early ‘40s. These
slaves, while baptized and admitted to fellowship and to communion, were relegated to the
gallery seats and likely buried in a separate area of the graveyard; there are no surviving slave
gravestones in Lexington’s burial ground.290 One scholar claims that most slaves who converted
during the Great Awakening rather quickly fell away as they became more familiar with the
severity of Puritan dogma and its focus on “separating saints from sinners.”291 However, it is
also possible that Lexington’s slaves found meaning and comfort on New England Puritanism’s
focus on the New Israel, where God had led his people out of slavery to freedom, where
individuals sought freedom from the bondage of sin, where all looked forward to the liberating
jubilee of Jesus’ second coming.
Scholars believe that most slaves felt more comfortable with their own folk religions,
secretly practicing voodoo, witchcraft, conjuring, and herbal medicine, and substituting their
own religious marriage rituals, music, dance, and folklore.292 If this is so, I have found no
evidence to support it in Lexington, though this is not surprising as these practices would have
been carried on mostly in secret.
As far as I have discovered to date, Rev. Jonas Clarke never preached or wrote directly
about the souls of slaves. Yet his actions speak louder than words. In all of his predecessor’s 50
plus years of ministry, seven slaves had been baptized in Lexington. Jonas Clarke was apparently
determined to make up for lost opportunities in ministry to slaves; in his first fifteen years at
Lexington, he welcomed thirty slave and free blacks into the congregation. Many New England
ministers at this time owned a slave, as had Rev. John Hancock. Clarke did not. In fact, though
Hancock’s slave Dinah had lived in the family since 1728, it was not until Clarke came on the
scene, some thirty years later, that Dinah was baptized. It is interesting to imagine these early
years of Clarke’s ministry, as he shared the parsonage with the Widow Hancock, her slave
Dinah, and his wife and young family.
In fact, Clarke’s genuine and heartfelt concern for the slave and free blacks of his
community is in evidence throughout his almanac. It was Clarke who performed most of the
slave and free black marriages. It is through Clarke’s notes on the death and burial of slaves in
his community that we even know of their existence. And his effort to baptize the sick and dying
slave children of Lexington, traveling to their master’s home to perform the rite, speaks to his
288
Adams and Pleck, Love of Freedom, pp. 185-6.
Piersen, Black Yankees.
290
Staple, “The Existence and the Extinction of Slavery,” p. 52 Kollen, “Slavery in Lexington.”
291
Piersen, Black Yankees, p. 73,
292
Ibid.
289
127
concern. On March 1, 1775, as political tensions ran high, Clarke took time to visit Mr.
Blodgett’s house to baptize Nancy, the infant child of Job and Violet; the next day he noted the
baby’s death.293
How did Lexington’s slaves and free blacks experience and make sense of their life as
people of color in a dominant white society? First, we can assume that Lexington’s blacks
experienced their world as a hybrid society, a creolization of African, Native American (also
considered people of color, with whom blacks socialized and intermarried), and AngloAmerican. The degree to which they identified with any one of these groups varied based
somewhat on their personal history. Slaves brought directly from Africa understood their world
differently from slaves brought from the West Indies (who already had knowledge of white
ways), and different again from third-generation slaves of old New England families who
considered themselves in some respect to be Americans. The presence of mulatto and Native
American/African children helped to blur racial identities.
Black culture in rural New England was continuingly evolving as some acculturated to
white ways while other, more recent, African arrivals brought new infusions of African culture.
Moreover, the new arrivals brought not an “African” identity, but the sub-cultures of different
tribes from a broad range of African societies. Slaves were active participants in shaping this
hybridized subculture. Scholars claim that they created creole forms of language, music, dance,
food, methods of working, building, and ritual folkways, most of which was little understood and
less appreciated by their white masters.294 They blended these ways with the dominant AngloAmerican culture that had been absorbed by slaves born and raised within the community.
In actively shaping their world, slave and free black men had more advantages than
women, because, in their patriarchal society, men had more liberty than women. Black men had
access to skilled jobs, more opportunities to read and write, more freedom to travel, accompany
their masters on journeys, hire themselves out, or join the militia. Most critically, however, men
had more power than women within slave society. African-American culture accepted patriarchy,
and so men were expected to take the initiative in courtship, head their families (where families
could survive), and assume ceremonial positions of leadership among fellow blacks.
Interestingly, slave women identified freedom not as equality, but as the right or ability to form a
male-headed family in its own home with economic means of support.295
Scholars have found evidence of black hybrid culture in the North in the persistence of
certain folkways. Masters noted slaves’ “peculiar” habit of carrying heavy items on their heads,
of following certain mud building practices, of accompanying work with song. Traditions of
song, string and drum instruments and dance were particularly noted. Whites commented upon
“the natural musicians among the slaves,” their proclivity for fiddling and dancing jigs and reels,
“shuffling and tripping to the sound of the fiddle,” all of which reflected African taste for
293
Interleaved Almanac of Jonas Clarke, March 1 and 2, 1775. Manuscript, Lexington Historical Society,
Lexington, Mass.
294
See especially John Thornton, Africa and Africans in the Making of the Atlantic Worl, 1400-18--, 1992. and
Berlin, Many Thousands Gone, esp. p. 190.
295
See Adams and Pleck, Love of Freedom, p. 15. Black women’s views of liberty is the subject of this book.
128
energetic music.296 Canavan remembered that Peter Tulip and his family were musicians. Peter
would fiddle for white folks’ dances or entertainment while his daughters acted as waitresses.297
Other whites remembered their slave’s knack for telling folk tales and riddles, spinning yarns, or
using satiric wit. Canavan related a tale of Prince Estabrook’s playing along with his master
when horse dealing: “: “Benjamin Estabrook was a shrewd trader and he had a negro, Prince,
who was a good second. Tales have come down of how they played into each other’s hand in
making a deal... One day Ben was trying to sell a rather poor horse to a back country man and
Prince was seen walking around with tears in his eyes, calling out, ‘Oh, don’t sell that horse,
Massa. That’s just the best horse we ever had.’”298 One local historian recalled that “children and
young people were fond of Prince, who joined in their sports and games and told them stories.”
This sort of paternalist and condescending interpretation of slave behavior by white people
served as confirmation of their slaves’ childish foolery or Sambo-like personality. In fact,
scholars assert, it reflects a shrewd form of slave resistance, satirically ridiculing the conventions
of white society as seen from the bottom up.299
Although there is no record of Lexington slaves participating in “Negro Election Day,”
this festival was well enough known in the North that it is likely that Lexingtonian blacks
experienced it. In the spring, as most towns held their annual election, larger cities sometimes
allowed their slave population to imitate the custom in their own Election Festivals. Masters
from the countryside would give their slaves a day off to attend these festivals. “On these
Election Days whites sanctioned gambling, drinking, athletic contests, and parades among their
slaves, which they thought a harmless way to boost slave morale for a couple of days as the
winter cold was ending. During these celebrations black candidates campaigned for office and
gave speeches, providing the first examples of black men speaking in public and soliciting
votes. Black men lined up behind the candidate of their choice and some of them recorded the
votes . . .”300 Whites found the festivals, especially the dancing, music, and procession of the
elected “king,” humorous and harmless, a “type of role reversal that confirmed rather than
challenged the existing social order and the power of the owners.”301 But some scholars insist
that Election Days, with their re-enactment of African regal processions, revitalized pride, and
speeches, which showcased African wit and humor, provided a subtle way for slaves to poke
ironic fun at white customs.302
Recently scholars have focused on ways in which northern slaves resisted domination by
their masters. Forms of resistance varied from the mild and subtle, such as developing distinct
cultural practices, working slowly, breaking tools or being non-cooperative or disobedient, to
extreme forms of protest, such as stealing from or burning down their master’s house, killing
their master, or committing suicide.303 We have no immediate tales of such resistance in
Lexington, but we know that fears lay not far beneath the apparent calm of slave master
296
Piersen, Black Yankees, pp. 103-4.
298
Canavan, Canavan Papers, p. 124 and 432.
299
See Pierson, Black Yankees, pp. 103-112.
300
Adams and Pleck, Love of Freedom, pp. 61-2.
301
Berlin, Many Thousand Gone, pp. 191-2.
302
Piersen, Black Yankees, pp. 117-28.
303
Adams and Fleck, Love of Freedom, p. 8.
297
129
relations, for on April 19th, “it was reported that the slaves were about to rise and murder the
defenseless women and their children.”304
In the last decades before the Revolution, slave and free blacks in rural New England
apparently suffered a decline in both in status and economic well-being. Some theorize that
increasing social disorder caused by both the demographic crisis (running out of local land for
offspring) and the political crisis, led to a general fear of disorder that was displaced onto
marginal peoples. “The New England colonies passed more laws to restrict and control slaves,
free blacks, and Indians, who were seen as sinful, disorderly, possibly criminal, and likely to
conspire against their owners.”305 Opportunities for manumission decreased with laws that
required the posting of bonds to ensure that freedmen did not become public charges. As the free
black population shrank, slavery and blackness were increasingly equated in the minds of
whites.306 For many whites, black skin became a marker of inferior being. Race came to the
forefront especially as limited land threatened rising numbers of white men with the loss of their
coveted independent yeoman status. It was no longer feasible to argue that all those without land
were dependents and should be required to submit to another master. Freedom was redefined: it
became a natural right of white men, not a quality of property owning. The degraded state of
slavery increasingly became associated with race, rather than economic independence.307 The
price was paid by all New England’s blacks on the eve of the Revolution, slave or free.
How then, did Lexington’s slaves and free blacks interpret the rising rhetoric of natural
rights, equality, and resistance to oppression and slavery? We have no evidence from Lexington.
But other slaves did find a voice. Slaves submitted petitions to the Massachusetts General Court,
reminding legislators that their “noble stand against the designs of their fellow men to enslave
them,” should bring to mind the condition of some already in their midst.308 They challenged
white patriots to acknowledge the hypocrisy of slave-holding while advocating liberty. Consider
the following petition from 1774:
The endearing ties of husband and wife we are strangers to for we are no longer
man and wife than our masters and mistresses think proper married or unmarried.
Our children are also taken from us by force and sent many miles from us where
we seldom or ever see them again there to be made slaves of for life which
sometimes is very short by reason of being dragged from their mother’s breast.
Thus our lives are embittered to us on these accounts. By our deplorable situation
we are rendered incapable of showing our obedience to almighty God. How can a
slave perform the duties of a husband to a wife or parent to his child? How can a
304
Elizabeth W. Harrington, “A Few Words for our Grandmothers of 1775,” Proceedings of the Lexington
Historical Society, Vol. 1 (Lexington, Mass.), p. 50. The rumor was apparently wide-spread. In the town of
Framingham . . . a local inhabitant remember that ‘soon after the men were gone, a strange panic seized the women
and children living in Edgell and Belknap district. Someone started the story that the negroes were coming to
massacre them all!” As quoted in David Hackett Fischer, Paul Revere’s Ride (New York: Oxford University Press,
1995).
305
Adams and Fleck, Love of Freedom, p. 5.
306
Berlin, Many Thousands Gone, pp. 186-7.
307
This argument is fully developed in David R. Roediger, Wages of Whiteness: Race and the Making of the
American Working Class (London: Verso: 1991).
308
Berlin, Many Thousands Gone, pp. 193-4.
130
husband leave master and work and cleave to his wife? How can the wife submit
themselves to their husbands in all things? How can the child obey their parents in
all things?309
A few whites patriots recognized the hypocrisy inherent in their position and asked the
Provincial Congress in 1774 to consider, “that while we are attempting to free ourselves from our
present embarrassments, and preserve ourselves from slavery, that we also take into
consideration the state and circumstance of the negro slaves in this Province.”310 The matter was
allowed to rest without action. But the rhetoric of the next two decades – particularly the
Declaration of Independence and the state and federal constitutions, would pave the way for a reordering of the society. Hierarchical political authority was overturned, and eventually even
social deference would give way to a general democratization of society. It would be more than a
century, however, before that revolution was (if indeed it is) complete.
April 19th, 1775
Prince Estabrook, slave, and Eli Burdoo, free black, both were members of Capt. Parker’s
company and trained through the autumn and winter of 1774-75. Silas Burdoo, another free
black, asserted in a later pension claim that he also served on April 19th, though he was not on
Capt. Parker’s roster. Eli was 19, Silas, 27 and Prince 35 on that April morning. But they were
not the only people of color to serve at the battles of Lexington and Concord. One scholar has
documented 40 men of color (slaves, free blacks, Indians, mulattos) who served on Battle Road,
most of whom were in the 20s or 30s. 311 Half of those men were free, half were slaves.
Although blacks had been officially banned from bearing arms in seventeenth century
Massachusetts, slaves and free blacks had served in several of the eighteenth century’s colonial
wars of empire.312 Need for manpower trumped fear and prejudice. Eli’s presence on the training
field honored the participation – the death, in fact -- of his father in Canada serving in the
French and Indian War. Prince may have served on April 19th in his master’s stead; he definitely
served with his permission. The law required any non-freeman (slave, apprentice, indenture, etc)
309
Petition of “A Grate Number of Blackes of the Province” to Governor Thomas Gage and Members of the
Massachusetts General Court (1744), Massachusetts Historical Society Collections, Fifth Series, III (1877), p. 433.
310
Letter of Mr. Joseph Wheeler of Harvard, as quoted in Alexander Starbuck, “Historical Events Leading up to the
Battls of Lexington and Concord,” Proceedings of the Lexington Historical Society, Vol. IV, p. 138.
311
George Quintal Jr., Patriots of Color: ‘A Peculiar Beauty and Merit’: African Americans and Native Americans
at Battle Road and Bunker Hill Printed by the Author, 2002. (Aversion was also published by the National Park
Service in 2005.)
312
At first, the defensive need was so great that all were allowed to serve. However, in 1656, the legislature
prohibited blacks and Indians from mustering, claiming that their exclusion would allow “the better ordering and
settling of several cases in the military companyes.” As quoted in Benjamin Quarles, “The Colonial Militia and
Negro Manpower,” The Mississippi Historical Review, Vol. 45, No. 4 (Mar., 1959), pp. 645. Quarles argues that
despite the ban, “Many colored men served.” p. 652.
131
to first secure his master’s consent.313 Benjamin Estabrook, however, would receive the pay for
Prince’s service in May and June of 1775.314
Of the forty men of color who served on Battle Road, all served in integrated units, all
received equal pay for men of equal rank, regardless of color. They represented about one
percent of the whole force that day. Most lived in poverty, most could not sign their names,
many later became town paupers. Despite their difficult conditions, most people of color in
Massachusetts, according to a scholar who has studied them well, were staunch patriots. The
Revolution undoubtedly had special meaning to them.315
Unfortunately, the slaves and free blacks of Lexington did not record what meaning the
events of April 19th had for them. We can only surmise Prince Estabrook’s reasons for fighting
for freedom while himself a slave. He may have believed that his service would win his freedom,
as it had for many slaves in the French and Indian War. He may have been serving out of
personal loyalty to his master. He may have served at his master’s command. He may have
believed, as his white neighbors did, that his personal well-being and livelihood were endangered
by the march of His Majesty’s Regulars that morning. Eli Burdoo’s reasons are equally obscure.
He may have wished to follow in his father’s footsteps, to prove himself alongside his white
neighbors, to join in the camaraderie of training and mustering, or simply to experience the thrill
and glory of warfare. Or he may have believed that the British truly were engaged in a
conspiracy to entrap the colonists in debt and reduce them to economic slavery. His personal
experiences, like so many landless youth in Lexington in 1775, would likely have strengthened
these suspicions. It will be a challenge of interpretation to draw out the motivations and
meanings behind the participation of slaves and oppressed people in a battle for liberty.
Below follows the personal stories of a selection of Lexington’s slave and free blacks.
Prince Estabrook [Using material from Alice Hinkle’s studies]
If we look to the official records of colonial Lexington for the slave Prince Estabrook, we
will find practically nothing. Most information about common folk comes from tax, probate, and
poll records. But slaves like Prince had little wealth and no right to vote, so they were
nonexistent in these documents. The town did not record his birth. Prince was not baptized, nor
did he own the covenant, so there are no church records for him. Though slaves had the right to
sue in court, Prince did not. His master was responsible for his welfare, so he did not appear
among the town’s poor lists. Like most slaves, Prince left little imprint on our official record of
the past.
We know of Prince’s existence because he had the misfortune to be among the first
wounded in the Patriot cause. Those who hoped to fan the flames of outrage over the casualties
at Lexington publicized his name along with the other dead and wounded, and included the
313
314
Quarles, “The Colonial Militia and Negro Manpower,” pp. 643-4.
Benjamin Brown’s Report of those Lexington men who deserve compensation for military
service. May 14, 1779. Manuscript 8859, American Revolution Collection, Oversize Box,
315
Quintal, Patriots of Color, p. 22.
132
single modifier, “negro.” Prince made it onto the famous muster list of Capt. Parker’s company.
And he survived in local lore, remembered somewhat paternalistically for his satiric wit and
fondness for amusements. Still, we know only a shadow of the man.
Alice Hinkle, a journalist and Lexington resident, devoted over seven years to learning
more about the lone slave who stood and fell with the militia in Lexington on April 19th. She
exhaustively searched archives and gathered both documents and anecdotes. In 2002 she
published a book on her research, Prince Estabrook, Slave and Soldier. This book includes all
the documentary evidence she was able to retrieve, along with her interpretation of his life. Much
of this report will be excerpts from Alice’s work. Interspersed with Alice’s story will be my own
comments on some of the documentary evidence or insights from secondary sources. But the
recovery of Prince Estabrook is really Alice Hinkle’s story. [Italics indicate Alice’s words]
How and when Prince arrived in Lexington and became the property of Benjamin
Estabrook remains a mystery. Prince Estabrook was about 34 years old at the start of the
Revolutionary War. Although there are no records of his birth, he carried the surname of his
master. The origin of his first name is unknown. One legend suggests that he was called Prince
because his father was African royalty, but there is no evidence to back that claim.... Prince is
among the more common names for male slaves at that time...
While Prince’s arrival may have gone unnoticed, it’s also possible that he was the son of
Tony, a slave owned by Benjamin Estabrook’s grandfather, Joseph II. His will directs that his
slave Tony “not be sold” and that he be allowed to choose his master from among Estabrook’s
children, one of whom was Benjamin’s father, Joseph III. ...Canavan... made numerous
references to Tony.... A section of Estabrook land that the slave was known to frequent was
called Tony pasture or Tony meadow. If Prince were the son of Tony, it would explain reports in
the Estabrook family histories of Benjamin having inherited Prince from his father. It might also
explain the apparently close relationship between Benjamin and Prince. Benjamin was older
than Prince, but the two may have grown up in the same household. It’s possible that as Prince
became older, Benjamin came to rely on him for friendship as well as for help in maintaining the
property that was Benjamin’s inheritance.
There were others in the Estabrook household who might also have been Prince’s friends.
In May of 1753, town records report that Jacob Freeman, formerly of Littleton, had arrived.
Jacob’s surname suggests that he was a free man, probably a farm hand. [It is interesting that
Benjamin brought Jacob Freeman into his household - presumably as hired labor - in 1753. At
that time Benjamin was a 24-year-old bachelor, eldest surviving son of his widowed mother,
with a 14-year-old brother, Ebenezer. However, his mother remarried in 1753, and probably took
Ebenezer (and his labor) with her to her new home. At this point, the bachelor Benjamin was left
alone to run the family homestead, with the help only of his 15-year-old slave, Prince. It makes
sense that Benjamin would seek to increase his labor force by giving Jacob Freeman a home.
Consider, then, that the Estabrook household at that point included one white and two black men,
one of whom was free and one of whom was slave.]
By 1775, Benjamin Estabrook was a distinguished Lexington citizen [46 years old] and
one of five slaveholders in town. He was active in town government and, at various times, served
133
as coroner, town moderator, justice of the peace, and selectman. [He also owned and cultivated
one of the largest farms in Lexington.] In addition to cultivating his own land, Benjamin
Estabrook one year received the selectmen’s permission to rent the town’s “best meadow” to
raise more crops. He and his wife, the former Hannah Hubbard, had nine children and a busy
life on their sprawling Vine Brook Farm. [In 1775, Benjamin and Hannah had eight children
ranging in age from 17 to newborn. The oldest sons were 17, 13, and 11, big enough to be of
some help on the farm. Prince’s labor was probably more crucial in the first decade of Benjamin
and Hannah’s marriage, from 1758 to 1768. Estabrook rented the town’s meadow in 1769, when
his oldest son was reaching his teen years and could provide labor to mow/hay in July &
August.]
According to tradition, Estabrook joined the Lexington militia as early as 1773, but
records that could have confirmed this have disappeared, as have many other important
Lexington documents from the spring of 1775. ...Prince had accompanied his master, Benjamin
Estabrook, and other Lexington soldiers on earlier expeditions, as his experience may have been
valued by the militia. [Hinkle does not give a source for this. She may be referring to experience
in the French and Indian War, when Estabrook would have been in his 30’s and Prince in his
20’s, but I can find no evidence of this. The closest reference I can find is from Canavan, Vol. 3,
Ch. 19, p. 432, “Prince Estabrook went on trips through the woods to Lake Champlain in 1765
with Edmund Munroe...” This postdates the F&I war, and probably relates to one of Edmund
Munroe’s fur and cattle trading ventures. I wonder why/how Prince was able to leave his master
to travel with Munroe when Benjamin had a house full of small children, and no other known
hired help. Perhaps it was a winter trek, when work was slow. In any event, I find this reference
interesting; it gives us some sense of Prince as an experienced and willing backwoodsman, quite
a contrast from the “Massa, don’t sell that horse” caricature.]
... Estabrook family histories report that Joseph IV, Benjamin’s oldest son, was on the
Lexington common with Prince Estabrook on the morning of April 19, 1775. Joseph, then 17,
narrowly missed being hit. After the British left for Concord, Joseph helped some of the
wounded, including Prince, to the Estabrook home, where they were treated by Dr. Joseph Fiske.
While many members of Captain Parker’s company gave depositions or wrote about the
part they played in the events that morning, Estabrook left no personal account Nor did fellow
soldiers or onlookers bother to describe his role, other than to note his injury. [This is an
interesting point, and brings out that in colonial Lexington the presence of a black man, even a
slave, in the ranks of the militia, was not considered unusual enough to need explanation.]
... Prince Estabrook was sidelined by his wound, but Captain Parker and his company
met the Regulars again during the afternoon of April 19. Other black patriots who joined in the
fighting included Pomp Blackman of Lexington... [It seems important to note that in the
selectmen’s report of men who deserved compensation for their military service in April and
May of 1775, Prince’s compensation was paid to his master, not to Prince; however, he was paid
at the same rate as all the others, regardless of race or servitude.316]
316
“Benjamin Brown’s Report, May 14, 1779”, Manuscript #8859, Revolution Collection (Oversize Box),
134
Alice Hinkle did a wonderful job recovering documentary evidence of Prince’s service in
the Revolutionary War. Her research confirms anecdotal evidence that Prince Estabrook served
throughout the war.
Either during or after the war Prince became a free man, perhaps as his master’s reward
for his service, or perhaps because Massachusetts law effectively freed all slaves in 1783.
Although there are only a few references to Prince Estabrook in official Lexington records, there
are enough to determine that he returned to town after his discharge. He resumed his work with
Benjamin and did odd jobs for residents around the town. [I would love to see a citation for this is it from anecdotal evidence?] Prince spent much of his time in the fields of Vine Brook Farm
and possibly at the mill. [How do she know this?] Lexington Board of Selectmen’s minutes also
show he was paid 12 shillings for attending Mr. Isaac Stone “in his last illness & at his Death”
in December 1786... The 1790 census shows that the Lexington household Benjamin Estabrook
headed included a nonwhite freeman [Prince] as a resident. Prince’s name also appears on
several Lexington tax rolls in the 1790s, usually next to that of another former slave, Job Lock.
On one tax roll, Estabrook and Lock’s names were initially listed and then crossed out and
entered at the end (most likely because of their race). Prince was not taxed for property, which
indicates that he moved from slave to employee of Benjamin Estabrook.
[Hinkle next describes the fictional story of Prince’s having served President Washington
on his visit to the Munroe tavern. Although the evidence for that story was discredited, Hinkle
notes that’s Prince’s inclusion indicates that he was a well-known figure in the community.]
While no record of Prince Estabrook’s marriage has been found, there is some reason to
believe he once had a wife. Canavan refers to a time when Prince was courting a local woman
and defended her ample size. [This story comes from Canavan, Vol. 1, Ch. 7, pp. 124-125.
Supposedly Prince was asked if the woman he was courting were handsome. He responded, “No,
Massa, she ain’t handsome. She’s just ‘stantial.” If this story is true, it conveys several
interesting points on black culture. First, the locals did not know the women Prince was courting,
so he must have had to travel some distance to find black female company. The number of blacks
who resided in Lexington had declined consistently throughout the 18th century. Second,
historians of African culture say that it was considered admirable for a woman to be large, a sign
of fertility and prosperity. Prince’s evaluation of his lady as substantial may reflect his African
cultural preferences.] In a report to the Historical Society in 1902, Lexington historian and
minister Rev. C. Staple wrote that Prince had been married but offered no evidence.
[Hinkle then covers in some detail the death of Benjamin and his wife Hannah in 1803,
and the distribution of family property. Three of the his sons moved to Ashby, Mass./New
Ipswich, New Hampshire area, where Benjamin had land.] It was about 1805 when Prince
Estabrook, then in his mid-sixties, left Lexington to live with Nathan in Ashby... Nathan appears
to have prospered in Ashby, where there was open land to farm and where he was near his wife’s
family, his brother Solomon and Samuel, and other family members. Prince and Nathan also
retained ties to Lexington. Canavan writes that the dying wish of one young Lexington girl was
“to be buried in Ashby beside dear old Prince Estabrook.”
135
Tradition, family histories, and accounts available in Lexington and in Ashby report that
Ashby is where Prince Estabrook died in 1830, at the age about 90. ... A 1930 Fitchburg Sentinel
newspaper article reports that Estabrook’s name was found among those buried in the pauper’s
section of the Ashby First Parish Unitarian Universalist Church cemetery, where the names of
Nathan Estabrook and his wife, Sally are located...
It is interesting that a free Prince decided to return to his former master’s home to live
and work, and even to follow his master’s sons to Ashby after Benjamin’s death. It may reinforce
the theory that Prince was born into the Estabrook family, and considered their home as his own.
As a “three-year man,” [enlisted in the army for three years] Prince was entitled to fifteen
three-year-old cows at the end of his service, so he was not propertyless. However, he had no
land of his own on which to keep cows, so he may have sold his signing bonus. Prince does not
appear to have left a family of his own. Tales of his courting or his marriage are not supported by
any documentation. He apparently died a pauper.
The evidence that Alice and others have uncovered cannot, unfortunately, tell us how
Prince felt about being a slave soldier in a battle for liberty and liberation. It cannot tell us what
African-based cultural attitudes Prince brought to his life in Lexington. For these views, we can
turn only to the stories of other Africans.
Robbin and Margaret Tulip [Excerpted from Dick Kollen’s Paper – Dick’s words in italic]
Robbin and Margaret Tulip were slaves who married either while slaves or perhaps after
they were freed. Robbin was a slave of John Bridge and Margaret a slave of Amos Muzzey. They
had Peter in 1754, Becky in 1759, and Peggy in 1763. [Peter was 21 on April 19th, 1775, but we
know nothing of his actions on that day. He remained a slave until freed by the adoption of the
Massachusetts Constitution after the Revolution.317 His master on April 19th, John Bridge, may
not have allowed him to take up arms. Canavan, however, claims Peter Tulip later served in the
Revolution.318 ]
Robbin died in 1784 followed by his wife ten years later. While the girls drifted out of
town after emancipation, Peter remained in Lexington. He married Martha, probably in
Lexington, although vital records did not record it. … I do not know where they lived, but the
couple had three children. Olive was born in 1784 and Patty in 1786. Elizabeth, another
daughter, is not recorded. The family belonged to the church, as the first two children were each
baptized a year after their birth. [An 1826 letter of John Mulliken Jr. in the LHS Archives noted
that “Said Peter was married in Lexington and soon after removed to Leominster, was in
possession of a house and some land of considerable value for many years, but his deed of said
house was never recorded, but there is now living in Lexington the man who bought said
tenement and saw said deed.”319 The loss of his property apparently precipitated his decline]
317
Letter of John Mulliken Jr., Chairman of Overseers, Lexington, to the Overseers of the Poor of the City of
Boston, June 10, 1826. Archives of the Lexington Historical Society, Lexington, Mass.
318
319
Canavan, p. 338.
Letter of John Mulliken Jr., June 10, 1826.
136
How they subsisted is not clear, and soon they became public charges, sometimes in other towns.
An 1808 letter to the Overseers of the Poor from Leominster claimed Peter was at that time on
relief there and had “absented himself from his family.” [After loosing his house, Peter and his
daughters apparently returned to Lexington, where Peter had his “settlement” – that is, where by
birth he belonged and therefore where the town was liable for his support.] Peter did return to
Lexington and made a little money as a favorite fiddler player at town dances. His daughters
waited tables during these events. Unfortunately, he died a charge of the town poor relief. [His
daughters also became impoverished and became public charges.320] It seems, here was a family
who identified with Lexington and whom Lexington claimed as an inhabitants, but who did not
have the means to make a living. [This might also be the story of a hard-working and ambitious
freed slave who went out, as so many Lexington sons did, to make his fortune. Unfortunately, he
was swindled out of his property and returned, defeated, to the town of his birth, where he was
caricatured as a happy-go-lucky but irresponsible fiddler.
Quark and Kate Barbados– Slave or Free? [Excerpted from Dick Kollen’s Talk – Dick’s words
in italics]
Quark, John Simond’s slave, and Kate, married and entered the church on April 19,
1754. It is possible that they were freed, as they changed their name to Barbados, rather than
carry their masters’ names. Quark died three years later, but not before the couple had three
children: Isaac, Abel, and Mercy (twins). Abel can be traced to Boston where he married Chloe
in 1782. He worked as a mason and saved enough money to purchase property on Belknap St.
(today Joy St.) in 1796. Before he died in 1817, he helped construct the African Meeting House,
central to the black community in Boston. Chloe appeared in subsequent directories listed as a
washerwoman after that. Their son, James, became a barber and a clothes retailer. By the 1830s
he became an abolitionist who was one of William Lloyd Garrison’s loyal supporters from the
black community. He names a son for Garrison. He also was Secretary of the Massachusetts
General Colored Association. Eventually, Barbadoes and his family moved to Jamaica where
they died of malaria in 1841.
[We know nothing of their participation on April 19th. The two boys would have been in their
late teens to early twenties by this point. As they are not on 1774 tax list, we can assume that
were either still enslaved or, if freed, that they had left town.]
Job Locke & Violet Munroe [Excerpted from Dick Kollen’s talk – Dick’s words in italics]
In 1767 Job Locke, a slave to Samuel Locke, married Violet Munroe, a slave to Jonas
then John Munroe. Jonas Munroe’s will records that he left a small mount of money to Violet for
her service [does he mean wedding?]. The couple lived on farms near each other. The Lockes
had two daughters, Violet, in 1770, and Nancy, in 1775, [who died a few day after her birth].
[Nancy’s baptism in 1775 took place at the house of Mr. Josiah Blodgett, possibly Violet’s
master or employer at that time.] One other daughter, Elvira, was born later, but there is no
record of her birth. By 1790 the Lockes were free and owned a farm in North Lexington, perhaps
adjacent to the Locke farm. They were the only black family in Lexington in 1790. In 1800 Job
remained a taxpayer. But by 1813 he had landed in the Cambridge jail, a public charge. He died
320
Ibid.
137
two years later. His daughter Elvira Locke, landed in Boston’s House of Industry in 1827. The
Locke’s appears to be a story of a family anxious for self-sufficiency, who may not have had
enough resources at the start, a farm had to be at least 50 acres for it to be viable. This may be
the most tragic story as the Lockes seemed to want to emulate the white families around them,
but did not have the resources.
[There is no evidence of Job Locke’s participation on April 19th. It is possible that his master
would not allow him to take up arms.]
Prince and Cate Chessor/Chester
Only a few fragments of this couple’s story survive, but they suggest a sliver of
opportunity and a determination to succeed. Prince, sometimes called Prince Stone after his
owner Samuel Stone, sometimes called Prince Chessor or Chester, was freed at or shortly after
his master’s death in 1769. That same year, Prince appeared in Rev. Clarke’s almanac. It was a
time when non-importation and non-consumption fevers were running high, and patriots –
especially patriot ministers – were scrambling to be seen dressed in homespun linens. Lucy
Clarke, though, was occupied with six small children and likely did not have the time for the
long and difficult task of processing raw flax into linen thread. In May, Clarke noted in his
almanac “Due to Prince Stone for Dressing Flax,” with the amount due to him. Prince was likely
retting, breaking, hatchelling, and scutching the flax, preparing the fibers for spinning. (It is
interesting to note that Prince began this work one month after his master’s death, suggesting that
he had likely been freed at this point. It is also interesting that that at this point, Rev. Clarke still
called him by his former master’s surname.)
We do not know with whom Prince lived after the death of his master. He remained in
Lexington, however. He was listed as “Princ” [sic] and segregated with Silas Burdoo at the end
of the 1771 Lexington valuation; at that time, he owned no property. On April 23, 1772, Rev.
Clarke again played a part in Prince’s life, marrying Prince Chester and Cate. Interestingly,
within five years of his master’s death, the freedman had chosen his own name, perhaps to go
with his new identity.
Prince’s bride was Cate Taylor. We do not know how the two met. Cate was the “negro
maid-servant” (read: slave; New Englanders usually called their slaves “servants”) of established
farmer Phineas Taylor of Stow (later Boxborough). Cate had her own compelling story. In the
words of Boxborough’s nineteenth century historian:
Mr. Taylor obtained the child when a babe, in Boston, making payment therefore
with a box of butter. "Either the child could not have been worth much, or the box
of butter must have been very large, as the best butter was not more than twelve
cents a pound in those days," remarked a descendant as the incident was related. .
. .Having journeyed to Boston on horseback after his purchase, Mr. Taylor
brought her home on a pillion behind him. They named her Cate Taylor . . . At the
138
time of the advent of the little stranger babe, there was an infant girl of the family
of about the same age, called Dolly, and these two were daily playmates.321
Cate had served the Taylor family for 30 years when she and Prince decided to marry. At that
point, Capt. Taylor gave the woman her freedom. Her descendents still have the manumission
document, dated April 6, 1772. It reads:
Know all men by these Presents that I, Phineas Taylor of Stow [this part of Stow
did not become Boxborough until 1783], in the County of Middlesex in the
Province of the Massachusetts Bay in New England, Gentleman, have given and
granted, and by these Present gentlemen, unto my negro maid Servant named
Cate, her freedom from me and my heirs and assigns forever. The above said
Cate’s freedom is to commence or begin on Tuesday the seventh day of April,
1772, and at the end of the thirtieth year of her age and for the true performance
of what is above written, I, the Said Phineas Taylor have hereunto set to my hand
and seal this sixth day of April, 1772, and in the Twelfth year of his Majesty’s
Reign George the third King. Signed Sealed and Delivered in Presence of Us
Within a few weeks of gaining her freedom, Cate and Prince were married. They
remained in Lexington for a number of years, and they remained a presence in Rev. Clarke’s life.
Non-importation fever raged again in the tumultuous year of 1773. Once again Rev.
Clarke turned to Prince. In March, April and May of that year, Clarke reported paying Prince for
dressing flax, and paying “Katey” for spinning it. In November, he paid Prince for dressing and
bringing home “the remainder” of the flax, and had Mrs. Clarke pay Cate for spinning that. Clark
noted proudly that in all the family had 75 pounds of American-grown linen. Then he noted that
he owed Mr. Mason for weaving, quite possibly for producing the cloth for Clarke’s own homespun suit. Whether intentionally or not, Prince and Cate had played their own part in this act of
patriotism.
Prince Chester did not grow rich dressing flax. By 1774, however, he had risen from the
ranks of Lexington’s poorest. He was taxed at 2 shillings for a small amount personal property,
quite likely a cow. But he and Cate did not yet own their own home or farm their own land. They
must have lived with others. Their family was growing, however. Daughter Ruth was born in
April of 1773 and Lucy in September of 1774, just as the imperial crisis was coming to a head.
Both infants were baptized into the church by Rev. Jonas Clarke.
We do not know if Prince and Cate still lived in Lexington the next spring. There is no
evidence that Prince took part in the events of April 19th. By 1777, the couple had moved to
Boxborough, to a place given to them by Cate’s former master. They had five more children, the
last two – twins -- born in December of 1802. Shortly after, Cate’s former master came down
with spotted fever and Cate went to nurse him. She contracted the disease and died soon after.
Her widower and offspring preserved, however, and the Chesters played an active and respected
role in Boxborough church and community for years.322
321
322
Lucy Hager, Boxborough: A New England Town and Its People (Phil: J.W. Lewis & Co. 1891).
Ibid.
139
Burdoo Family of Lexington – A Free Family of Color
On the 20th of July in 1755, Jonas Clarke baptized a baby and recorded the rite in the
church records: “Baptized Eli Burdoo, [son] of Moses (Negro) [The word “Negro” was included
by Clarke].”323 It is one of the few times in which the Burdoos are specifically identified as being
people of color.324 But the Burdoos, at least by the early eighteenth century, were not slaves.
Nor, initially, were they impoverished or segregated. As the century progressed, however, their
fortunes did not. They increasingly lost ground – literally. Their story suggests that as the
rhetoric of freedom increased, opportunities in Lexington for the formerly enslaved did not. Yet,
despite their misfortunes, two Burdoo men willingly took part in the battle on April 19th. Their
views of liberty on that morning may have been shaded by their own struggle to hold onto their
economic independence.
Silas and Eli Burdoo – the men who took to the common on April 19th -were cousins.
Both were descendants of Philip Burdoo, who lived on the Bedford Road, nearly opposite the
Simonds tavern. He married Ann Solomon at Medford in 1704, and died in Lexington in 1757.
Both Philip and his Son Philip Jr. appear in the 1729 tax valuation.325 They were not segregated
at the end of the list, as free blacks usually were, but were listed by location, grouped with their
closest neighbors. [This was common practice and represented the assessor’s transit from farm to
farm along his route.] At this early point in the century Philip Sr. had a comfortable subsistence,
ranked just below average for landholding in Lexington. Six years later he had improved his lot,
ranking just above average, which means that he was doing better than more than half of his
white neighbors. With the land, cows, oxen, horses, and pigs that he declared, he could provide
for his family’s essentials and take his place among the voting members of town meeting. Most
critically though, Philip owned his own home. With a home of his own and land to support his
family, Burdoo defined independence, whether black or white: he was master of his household,
provider of a secure existence for his family, and a recognized voice in his political community.
With a home and his acres, he could maintain an independent existence. But, he could not escape
his color: in the 1735 tax listing, Philip Burdoo is listed last, segregated from his white
neighbors, despite being wealthier than half of them.326
Philip Burdoo and his wife Ann had six children. Sons Philip Jr., Moses, and Phineas
apparently remained in town for some time, though Phineas seems to have died unmarried in
1766. Moses apparently worked as a laborer for some time, because in 1739, he successfully
323
Records of the First Parish [Congregational] of Lexington, Mass., transcript, Lexington Historical Society,
Lexington, Mass.
324
There is little information available about the Lexington Burdoo family. The most important evidence that I could
find comes from Quintal’s Patriots of Color. Quintal provides some information on Eli and Silas Burdoo, both of
whom fought in the Revolutionary War. His work is based on military archives, including muster lists and pension
records of provincial Massachusetts, as well as extensive genealogical and town history research. He suspected, but
was not able to confirm, that Silas and Eli Burdoo were considered people of color. He noted, “all known persons
with the surname ‘Burdoo’ in New England in 1775 were persons of color.” (p. 69) Clarke’s almanac notation that
makes this certain.
325
1729 Lexington Tax Assessment, Microfilm, Cary Memorial Library, Lexington, Mass.
326
1735 Lexington Tax Valuation, Microfilm, Cary Memorial Library, Lexington, Mass.
140
sued Jonas Whittaker of Concord for an unpaid debt of £1-1-6 plus costs of suit, and Esq. Francis
Bowman (a slave owner) ordered Whittaker’s goods or chattel be seized to pay the debt.327 Philip
Jr. was remembered as living on or near his father’s farm Bedford Rd. farm, and going in the
1760s on fur-trading trips to upstate New York with Edmund Munroe. He was also frequently
mentioned in the settlement of estates as someone to whom wages were due, suggesting that he
worked for hire.328 Here we have an emerging picture of a laborer, rather than a farmer; a man
who – for reasons we do not know – lost his place on the land and was forced to find work and
wages where he could.
By 1750 only Moses Burdoo appeared on the town tax lists. At age 40, he fell exactly in
the middle of Lexingtonians for assessed wealth. Four years later, Moses married Phebe
Banister and the couple produced one child, Eli, before Phebe died in 1756. The widowed Moses
apparently enlisted as a soldier in the French and Indian War, for his will survives in the
Middlesex County Registry of Probate, dated Aug. 1, 1759, “encamped on the Island of Orleans
in Canady... I give my Body into the hands of Lt. Abijah Smith to be decently Buried if it Shall
please Almighty God to take me out of the World while I Remain under his Command.” We do
not know what happen to his little boy, but someone in the family must have taken him in, for he
does not appear as a charge on the town’s poor list. We can only imagine life in Lexington for
this orphaned child of color.
By 1771, little Eli’s uncle, Philip Jr. had apparently returned from his trading trips with
Edward Munroe to upstate New York and taken up residence again in Lexington. For he
appeared on the 1771 tax valuation (he was not segregated in this listing). Philip was listed as
owning no property outright, but sharing property with a James Wisman. Despite his efforts at
laboring and trading, he had clearly slipped in economic standing. He had, by that point, a 23year-old son, Silas, who was also listed on this valuation but owned no property. Interestingly, he
was listed next to “Princ” [sic], which probably referred to the recently freed slave of Samuel
Stone, Prince Stone (also known as Prince Chester).
By 1774 there were two Burdoos on the valuation, and they were both segregated at the
end of the tax list, indicating an increasing tendency to consider persons of color – even free
persons of color – as “other.” Philip Burdoo Jr., now 65, had dropped to the 8th decile, one of the
poorer townsmen. An untraceable Aaron Burdoo, perhaps a cousin from another town, had also
appeared on the tax lists. He was a truly poor man, possessing almost no property. Hudson says
that this Aaron was baptized and received into the Lexington church in 1780 and moved to
327
“Whereas Moses Burdoo of Lexington in the County of Middlesex, Labourer, appeared before
Francis Bowman, Esq, Justice of the Peace, for County, aforesaid, and recovered judgment
against Jonas Whittaker of Concord in the County of Middlesex, Labourer, by default for the
sum of one pound one shilling and six pence Debt or damages and 15 shilling cost of suit, as to
us appears of Records, whereof Execution remains to be done, We command you therefore to
seize in money goods or chattel . . .” June 12, 1739. 1649 MSS in Ledgers: Book D, Page 61
Lexington Historical Society Archives, Lexington, Mass.
328
Canavan noted that Philip Burdoo Jr. was “a Negro who lived on Bedford Road up by the Reeds, and by Egg
[Ignatius] Merriam. He accompanied Monroe on at least one of his trips to Crown Point.”(p. 252-5). Elsewhere,
Canavan noted that Philip Jr. was among the people mentioned in the settlement of an Estabrook estate, and he
added: “He figures occasionally I find in these inventories. He must have been an efficient fellow.” (p. 429)
141
Reading Vt. in 1794. Hudson adds that Aaron married Phebe Lew of Groton in 1788 and “they
had several children, and the family was much respected.”
It was Philip Jr.’s son Silas, and Moses’ orphaned son Eli – a pair of cousins -- who
participated in the Revolutionary War as soldiers from Lexington. In 1775, Silas was 27 years
old, a free black man who lived in Lexington and Cambridge alternately, but owned no
Lexington property. Eli was 20 years old, also a free black man from Lexington.
No military record could be found to prove that Silas participated in the Battle Road
fight, yet in a later pension claim he clearly asserted that “he volunteered in the service of the
United States [sic] on the 19th day of April 1775, in Capt. Boardman’s company [company
unidentified] and was in the battle at Lexington on the same day, and after following the British
for us back from Lexington to Boston, was dismissed.”329 He served in various companies
throughout the war. He was discharged in 1781 and moved to Rindge, N.H. and from there to
Reading, Vt. During his 50 years in Reading, he made many land transactions and participated
with townsmen in various petitions. His signature on these documents suggests a degree of
literacy. He married twice, but there are no known children, “though a namesake of Silas served
in the 54th Massachusetts regiment” during the Civil War.330
Eli was most certainly a member of Captain Parker’s company. He served both in the
morning and the afternoon of April 19th. (We do not, however, have direct evidence that he was
on the green at 4:30am that morning.) He also served under Capt. Parker in May and June of
1775 in Cambridge. He later enlisted and served in the Continental Army as a private in a
regiment of Middlesex County militia.
The Burdoos’ story suggest the struggle that free blacks faced, as the century progressed,
to hold onto their place in Lexington society. The first Burdoo family, that of Philip Sr.,
prospered, and eventually reached the middle ranks of Lexington farmers. After the arrival of
Rev. Clarke the Burdoos were church members, and Eli Burdoo was baptized as an infant. They
appear to enjoy the same civic rights and obligations as their white neighbors: a reference in
Hudson indicates that the Burdoos were treated like their neighbors in the administration of town
business; Philip Burdoo made the same confession and faced the same fines as his elite
neighbors Reed, Harrington, and Fasset for enclosing a public way; and Moses Burdoo brought
suit – and won – before the County Justice of the Peace. Despite the Massachusetts ban on
Negroes – slave or free – bearing arms, the Burdoos were accepted in the provincial militia. They
were experienced with warfare from the French and Indian War. Yet, despite this early inclusion,
the family experienced hard times after mid-century. They had owned land in Lexington for
decades, but now lost their property. Over time they came to be segregated on tax lists, revealing
a growing tendency to distinguish as people of color – even free, property owning people -- as an
inferior “other.” By the third generation, neither Silas nor Eli could claim the identity of their
grandfather as an independent yeoman.
329
United States Revolutionary War Pension, National Archives and Records Administration, Record Group 15,
Frame 113.
330
Quintal, Patriots of Color, p. 71.
142
Both Silas and Eli Burdoo may have seen soldiering as a way to amass some capital and
rise in the world. But they would not rise in Lexington. Both men left town after the Revolution.
Like many propertyless men from Lexington, they sought a better life on the northern frontier.
Both Silas and his probable cousin Aaron moved to the same town of Reading, Vt. It is possible
that they found more acceptance, as people of color, in rough frontier towns where manpower
was essential and valued than in older, more established locations.
143
Bibliography
Primary
Manuscript Documents in the Archives of the Lexington Historical Society, Lexington, Mass.
Records of the First Parish, Lexington Congregational Church, transcript. Lexington Historical
Society, Lexington, Mass.
Lexington, Massachusetts Records of Births, Marriages, and Death, to January, 1898. Boston:
Potter and Wright Printing Co., 1898.
Lexington Town Meeting Records, Transcript, Lexington Historical Society, Lexington, Mass.
Interleaved Almanac of Rev. Jonas Clarke, Lexington Historical Society Archives, Lexington,
Mass.
Depositions of 1775, Journals of Each Provincial Congress, Boston, Mass.
Massachusetts Soldiers and Sailors of the Revolutionary War, Boston, 1899
Muster rolls of the Revolution, State Militia, Massachusetts Archives, File F Vol. 55, p. 50.
Revolutionary War Military Records (Muster Rolls) Microfilm Publication M-246
“Revolutionary War Rolls 1775-1783,” National Archives, Waltham, Mass.
Probate for Benjamin Estabrook, Middlesex County Probate Record #7020, Massachusetts
Archives, Boston, Mass.
Birth, Marriage, and Death Records for the Town of Ashby, Mass. to 1754 to 1890. Anudsen
Publishing Company, 1989.
Fowle, Richard Jacquith, Cemetery Records of Ashby, Massachusetts, 1937.
Valuation of 1771 for Lexington, Mass. Transcript from Pruitt, Bettye Hobbs, Massachusetts Tax
Valuation Records, 1771. Inter-University Consortium of Political and Social Science
Research, 1980.
Tax Records of Lexington for 1750, 1774, 1780, and 1790. Microfilm, Cary Memorial Library,
Lexington, Mass.
Edmund Munroe Letters, Manuscript, Lexington Historical Society, Lexington, Mass.
Negro Petition for Freedom, Massachusetts Historical Society Collections, 5th series, 3 (1877), p.
433.
Secondary
Adams, Catherine, and Elizabeth H. Pleck, Love of Freedom: Black Women in Colonial and
Revolutionary New England. New York: Oxford University Press, 2010.
Berlin, Ira. Many Thousand Gone: The First Two Centuries of Slavery in North America
Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1998.
Canavan, Michael J. Canavan Papers, Typescript. Cary Memorial Library, Lexington, Mass.
Fischer, David Hackett. Paul Revere’s Ride. New York: Oxford University Press, 1995.
Gilroy, Paul. The Black Atlantic: Modernity & Double Consciousness. London: Verso, 1993.
Hager, Lucy Caroline. Boxborough: A New England Town and Its People. Philadelphia: J.W.
Lewis & Co., 1891.
Hinkle, Alice. Prince Estabrook, Slave and Soldier. Lexington: Pleasant Mountain Press, 2002
Hudson, Charles. History of the Town of Lexington, Mass. Vols. I & II. Boston: Houghton
Mifflin Co., 1913.
144
Kollen, Richard P. Lexington Massachusetts: Treasures from Historic Archives. Charleston,
S.C.: The History Press, 2006.
________. “Slavery in Lexington” Lecture, March 17, 2011, Grace Chapel, Lexington, Mass.
Mark, David A. Maynard: History and Life Outdoor Charleston S.C.: The History Press, 2011.
Massachusetts Society of the Sons of the American Revolution (SAR) Bulletin, Nov. 1930.
Nourse, Henry S. History of the Town of Harvard 1732-1893. Harvard, Mass.: W. Hapgood,
1894.
Piersen, William D. Black Yankees: The Development of an Afro-American Subculture in
Eighteenth-Century New England. Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1988.
Proceedings of the Lexington Historical Society, Lexington, Mass.:
Harrington, Miss Elizabeth W. “A Few Words for our Grandmothers of 1775.” Vol. I.
Staples, Rev. C.A. “The Existence and Extinction of Slavery in Massachusetts,” Vol. IV.
Starbuck, Alexander, “Historical Events Leading up to the Battles of Lexington and
Concord,” Vol. IV.
Quarles, Benjamin. “The Colonial Militia and Negro Manpower,” The Mississippi Historical
Review, Vol. 45, No. 4 (Mar., 1959) pp. 643-652.
Quintal, George Jr. Patriots of Color: African American and Native Americans at Battle Road
and Bunker Hill. Lincoln, Mass., 2002
Roediger, David R. Wages of Whiteness: Race and the Making of the American Working Class
London: Verso, 1991.
Sidbury, James. Becoming African in America: Race and Nation in the Early Black
Atlantic, 1760-1830 New York: Oxford University Press, 2007.
Thornton, John. Africa and Africans in the Making of the Atlantic World, 1400-1800. New
York: Cambridge University Press, 1992.
Wood, Betty. The Origins of American Slavery: Freedom and Bondage in the English Colonies.
New York: Hill and Wang, 1997.
Worthen, Edward B. A Calendar History of Lexington Massachusetts, 1620-1946.
_______ . Tracing the Past in Lexington, Massachusetts, edited by Anita Worthen, 1998.
145
Servitude and Slavery - Appendix
I.
Truly Poor Men in Lexington’s 1774 Valuation
A. Prince Chester was a recently freed black slave who owned no property as yet. Aaron
Burdoo was a free black whose small family had struggled to maintain itself in Lexington
for several generations. We’ll learn more about both of these men later.
B. Abraham Merriam, 40, was one of six sons. His father Jonas was still alive in 1774,
but appears to have sold his land. Since all of Abraham’s brothers moved away by 1774,
it is probable that his father sold his estate and divided it equally among his many sons to
allow them to purchase frontier estates elsewhere. Abraham eventually moved to Mason,
N.H. This appears to be a case where there were simply too many sons to allow any one
to be favored with the homestead and still have enough resources left to provide for all
the others.
C.Nathaniel Wyman (56) was also from a large family. He was one of 15 children who
survived to adulthood. Has father died in 1735 and apparently did not have resources
enough to provide estates for all of his sons.
D. Asa Munroe, 35, was also from a large family, but unlike Merriam, his father was
poor to begin with. Munroe’s four brothers disappear from the Lexington records. Asa
stayed in town, but never married. He fought in the Revolution during his late 30’s and
early 40’s. Anderson suggests that men enlisting in middle to late age usually do so out
severe financial need.
E. Jonathan Perry (46) is the only one of 7 brothers who remained in town after their
parents moved to Lynn. The younger brothers sold shares of the homestead to Jonathan in
1761 and all moved away. Jonathan was apparently unable to make a success of the farm
on which he had been raised, saddled as he was with debt from purchasing his brother’s
shares.
F. Joshua Underwood, age 49, was a younger son whose older brother (the 1st-born)
stayed in town and probably was the favored son. All other brothers left Lexington. Like
many poor men, he married late, at age 42. Joshua provides an example of what happened
to the non-favored sons when they did not move elsewhere.
G. Ephraim Winship (34) was from a family that moved away from Lexington shortly
after his birth. Winship returned to Lexington after his father’s death in Windham, Maine
in 1766. He likely returned to Lexington because, as the place of his birth it was the
“town of his settlement,” where they were required to support him in his need.
H. Henry Harrington, Jr. (37) was the oldest of seven surviving sons, at least six of whom
remained together in Lexington. Although their father had a large estate (2nd decile in
1750), he was still alive in 1774. Henry may have been still living with his father and
awaiting his inheritance.
146
I. Joseph Lock, Jr. (40), was another eldest son who was probably still living with his
father. In fact, Joseph Lock Sr. shared the west half of his father’s homestead a
generation earlier. It is likely that the son followed his father’s example.
J. Josiah Blodgett (37) appears to be yet another case of too many sons, and too many
who choose to stay in Lexington and share the parental estate. Five brothers survived to
adulthood and only one appears to have left town. Josiah’s father’s middling estate was
simply not large enough to support so many resident sons.
K. Thomas Blodgett (57) was among the truly poor. He served in the French War at age
43 and enlisted again for a three-year term at age 63 - a good indicator of dire need.
Thomas’ case is somewhat mysterious. His father was affluent (2nd decile in 1750) and
his three brothers appear all to have moved away. What happened to the homestead
between 1750 and 1774 is unknown.
Most of these cases have a thread in common: too many sons, not enough land. The
lesson was not lost on most Lexington fathers. By 1750 the pattern of out-migration of “surplus”
sons was set. Between 1750 and 1774, favoring one son and giving the rest an education or
resources to purchase unimproved land elsewhere was standard operating procedure. Those who
followed this pattern managed to sustain family wealth over the generation.
II. This is a compilation of Births or Baptisms, Church Admissions, Marriages, and Deaths
for “Negroes” in Lexington to 1775. It is based on:
1. Lexington, Mass: Records of Births, Marriages, and Deaths to 1898 (Boston: Wright &
Potter Printing Co., 1898). – Excerpts for “Negroes”
2. Lexington Church Records, Transcript, Lexington Historical Society Archives
3. Jonas Clarke’s Diary 1766-1775
4. Charles Hudson, Genealogy in History of the Town of Lexington, Vol. II.
5. M.J. Canavan
6. Lexington Historical Society Archival Records
VR= Vital Records; b = born; bp = baptized; m = married; d = died; s = son; d = daughter
•
•
•
•
About 109 distinct (not repeated in birth/marriage/death) names of slave & free blacks in
18th c
9 probable freed or free blacks (Burdoo, Chessor/Chester, Tulip, Prince Estabrook (Note
that Prince Estabrook does not appear in any VR or Church Records. He is an example of
how slaves disappeared in history documents, especially if they did not join a church.)
38 distinct white families owned slaves
The white families who owned slaves over the course of the century reads as a who’s
who of Lexington society;
Bacon, Bowman, Bridge, Brown, Comee, Cook, Fassett, Fiske, Hancock,
Harrington, Lawrence, Locke, Munroe, Muzzy, Prentice, Raymond, Reed,
Robbins, Robinson, Simonds, Stearn, Stone, Tidd, Whittemore, Winship
147
A. Births and/or Baptisms [may reflect adult baptisms so not reliable as estimator of age]
Maria (mulatto) bp. Jun 7, 1699 VR
John, Matthew Bridge’s negro, bp. Jan. 1702 VR
James, s. of Robing Tulop, (servant of Mr. John Bridge) and Margaret, b. Mar. 5, 1735 VR
John bp. Jul. 16, 1738 – (Great Awakening) VR
Robert, bp. Jan 17, 1739 – (Great Awakening) VR
Dinah, bp. Jan. 21, 1739 – (GA – Great Awakening) VR
Peter, Ebenezer Fiske’s [church records say Ebenezer Tidd] negro, bp, Jul. 26, 1741 (Great
Awakening) VR
Peggy, Amos Muzzy’s negro, bp. Jul. 26, 1741 – (Great Awakening) VR
Betty, purchased by Issac Stone, 1743 [receipt in LHS Archives, 807, MSS, June 9, 1743]
Robing, s. of Robing & Margaret, b. Sept. 13, 1745 VR
Domini, negro boy bequeathed in 1744 by Francis Bowman to his granddaughter Ruth
Bowman [LHS Archives, 1788 MSS in Ledger Book D, Page 99]
Ballis or Battist, negro of Francis Bowman, mentioned in 1744 probate [LHS Archives
1789 MSS in Ledger Book D., p. 101]
Adam, negro boy sold by John Tidd in 1753, LHS Archives [71 MSS in Ledgers: Book W. p.
55, Bill of Sale for a Slave Boy]
Peter, s. of Robing & Margaret, b. June 4, 1754 VR
Quawk [Barbadoes] & Kate his wife, Jul 19, 1754, owned cov. [Church Records]
Isaac & Mercy [church records say Mary], children of Quawk & Kate [Barbadoes], Jul 11,
[church records say Nov. 16] 1755 VR
Eli Burdoo, s. of Moses, Negro, July 20, 1755 – [Church Records]
Abel Barbadoes, s. of Quark & Kate, bp. Ju. 11 1756 [Barbadoes] [church records an earlier
date]along with their children VR
Violet, negro of Jonathan Lawrence, bp. And readmitted. Nov. 14, 1756 [she had made
confession of fornication to church Oct 2] [Church Records]
Lucy Sawco, Robert Harrington’s negro, bp. and readmitted Feb. 27, 1757 VR
Charity, Samuel Bridge’s negro, bp. Jan 7, 1759 VR
Dummer, Mr. Harrington’s negro woman, bp. Feb. 11, 1759 VR
Violet, Jonas Munroe’s negro, bp. Apr. 17, 1759 VR
Becky, d. of Robing & Margaret, b. June 4, 1759 VR
Dinah, Madam Hancock’s negro, bp., Sept. 9, 1759 VR
Prince [Chester] Cap. Sam’ Stone’s negro, bp Feb. 7, 1761, m. Apr. 23, 1772 VR
Dinah, Mr. Lawrence’s negro, bp. Apr. 26, 1761 VR
Peggy, bp. May 30, 1762 servant to Mrs. Esther Prentice, upon confession [Church Records]
Robert [Tulip?], bp Apr. 24, 1763, servant to John Bridge, upon confession [Church Records]
Peggy [Tulip?], bp. Nov. 6, 1763, servant to John Bridge [Church Records]
Peter, s. of Robbin and Peggy [Tulip] bp. Nov. 6, 1763 VR
Rose, d. of Peter and Violet, bp. Aug 26, 1764 VR
Philemon and Deborah, Negroes of Mr. Robert Harrington, bp. Jul 28, 1765 VR
Pembo, negress, bp Jul 27, 1766 VR
Peter Jr., Lt. Fiske’s [Church Records say Lt. Tidd’s] servant, bp. Sept. 6, 1767
148
Job, Samuel Lock’s servant, bp., Nov. 29, 1767 VR
Violet, servant to Mr. John Munroe ,Dec. 27, 1767, Restored to Covenant privileges, her
confession being accepted by the Church – [Church Records]
Violet, d. of Job & Violet, bp. Sept 30, 1770 VR
Katey Chessor [Chester], admitted to church, April 11, 1773 – [Church Records]
Ruth Chessor, d. of Prince and Katey, bp. Apr. 11, 1773 VR
Charity, Samuel Bridge’s servant, restored to Church membership. Aug. 21, 1774 VR
Lucy Chessor, d. of Prince & Katey, bp. Oct. 2, 1774
Nancy, d. of Job & Violet [at the house of Mr. Josiah Blodgett (their master?) [Church Records],
bp. Mar. 1, 1775
Aaron Burdoo, bp. and admitted into full communion, April 16, 1780 – [Church Records]
Pompey Blackman, bp. Oct. 27, [Church recs say Nov.] 1782
B. Marriages:
Prince Jonah, of Lexington, m., in Waltham, Lucy Oriage, of Waltham, Dec. 25,1752. VR
Jupiter, servant of Joshua Brooks, of Lincoln, m. Pegg, servant of Wm. Reed, Esq., of Lex., Aug.
2,1756. VR
Job, servant of Sam'l Locke, m. Violet, servant of John Munroe, both of Lex., Nov. 10, 1767. VR
Prince, late servant of Capt. Samuel Stone, m. Kate, late servant of Capt. Phinehas Taylor, of
Stowe, Apr. 23, 1772. VR
C. Deaths
Muzzy's Negro, Mar., 1694. VR
Cune, Negro, Oct. 2,1708. VR
Hezekiah, mulatto, Sept. 1, 1715. VR
Brown's Negro, June 29, 1716. VR
Lawrence's Negro, Jan. 1, 1719. VR
Comerees Negro child, Nov. 14, 1721. VR
Negro child, Apr. 9,1726. VR
Daniel Tidd's Negro, May 14, 1727. VR
Negro boy, Jul., 1727. VR
Negro boy, Jan. 10,1728. VR
Robert Harrington's Negro, May 24,1728. VR
Caesar, Oct. 21,1728. VR
Sambo, Dec. 6,1728. VR
Zilpah, Dec. 22, 1729. VR
Winship's Negro, Feb. 5, 1730. VR
Stearn’s Negro, Feb. 24, 1730. VR
William [Mon]Roe's Negro, Nov. 5, 1730. VR
Cuffee, Nov. 29,1730. VR
Bacon's Negro child, Mar. 19,1733. VR
Deacon Brown's Negro, Mar. 24,1733. VR
149
Ceasar, Mar. 20, 1734. VR
Omee, Mar. 30, 1734. VR
Muzzy's Negro's child, Mar. 4,1736. VR
Peter, May 1,1737. VR
William Ray, Nov. 5, 1737. VR
Bowman's Negro, Nov. 5, 1737. VR
Primus, June 11,1738. VR
Lawrence's Negro, June 15,1738. VR
Robinson's Negro, Nov. 29, 1741. VR
Phillis, May 30,1743. VR
Jethur, June 14,1743. VR
Pompee, Mar. 16,1744. [Francis Bowman’s slave? – See Bowman’s 1743 will] VR
Phillis, Feb. 2,1745-46. [Francis Bowman’s slave? – See Bowman’s 1743 will] VR
Jonathan Whittemore's Negro, May 9, 1748.VR
John, Jul. 22, 1748. VR
Harrington's Negro, Oct. 24, 1748. VR
Raymond's Negro, May 9, 1748. VR
Peter, Feb. 5, 1749. VR
Cook's Negro, June 26,1750. VR
Mr. Fassett's Negro boy, between 1752 and 1755 – [likely added by Clarke] VR
Edward Winship's Negro, between 1752 and 1755. – [likely added by Clarke] VR
Jonathan Raymond's Negro, between 1752 and 1755. – [likely added by Clarke]VR
Mr. Locke's Negro ch., Nov. 30,1756. VR
Quawk, [Barbadoes] Mr. Simonds's Negro, May 5, 1757. VR
A Negro child, Oct. 9, 1758. VR
Mr. Harrington's Negro child, Mar. 28,1759. VR
A child of John Robbin's family, Jan. 13, 1766. [I am not certain if child is black] VR
A child of Joseph Comee's family, Sept. 8, 1766. [I am not certain if child is black] VR
James Robinson's Negro, Dec. 25, 1767. VR
A child of Amos Muzzy's family, Jul. 19, 1768. [I am not certain if child is black] VR
Zilpah, Esq. Bowman's Negro, Aug. 25, 1769. VR
Peter, [Mrs. Stone’s Negro – Jonas Clark’s Almanac JC] Oct. 10,1769. VR
Pembo, Mar. 1, 1771. VR
Philemon, Jul. 19,1771.[Mr. Robert Harrington’s negro – JC] VR
A Negro child out of Mr. John Simonds's family, July 22,1775. VR
Jupiter, Oct. 12, 1781. VR
John Simonds's Negro boy, Dec. 9, 1782. VR
Pompey Blackman, Jan. 9,1783. VR
Robin Tulip (a Negro man), Apr. 19, 1784. VR
Peggy Tulip, wid. of Robin, 75 y., Jan. 7, 1794. VR
A mulatto child out of Mr. Robert Reed's family, Jan. 27, 1790. VR
D. Other Mentions
Venus Rowe or Munroe, 3 year old child given to, and brought home in saddle bag by, Swithern
Reed in 1740 or ’50 [Canavan, p. 115]
150
Tony, a half-breed Indian/negro associated with the Estabrook family, possible father of Prince
[Canavan, pp. 309 & 429]
Prince Estabrook [Canavan p. 432]
Philip Burdoo [Canavan pp. 252-5]
III. Lexington Families Identified as Owning Slaves
Matthew Bridge – 1702
John Bridge – 1735
Amos Muzzy – 1741
Isaac Stone – 1743
Francis Bowman – 1744
Benjamin Estabrook
Edward Winship 1752
Jonathan Raymond – 1752
John Tidd – 1753
Jonathan Lawrence – 1756
Robert Harrington – 1757
James Robinson – 1757
Jonathan Whittemore 1758
Jonas Munroe – 1759
Madame Hancock
John Bridge 1763
Samuel Lock – 1767
John Munroe – 1767
Esq. William Bowman – 1769
Mr. John Simonds – 1775
1st decile 1750
1st decile 1750
1st decile 1750
1st decile 1735
1st decile 1774
4th decile 1750 – tavern owner
3rd decile in 1750
3rd decile in 1774
2nd decile in 1750
2nd decile in 1750
7th decile in 1750
5th decile in 1750
Minister’s widow
1st decile in 1750
1st decile in 1750
1st decile in 1750 and 1774
3rd decile in 1774
Average decile of slave oweners = 2.3; 50% in wealthiest decile; 80% in top third of taxpayers
for wealth.
Families who owned slaves:
Bacon
Bowman
Bridge
Brown
Comee
Cook
Fassett
Fiske
Hancock
Harrington
Lawrence
Locke
Munroe
151
Muzzy
Prentice
Raymond
Reed
Robbins
Robinson
Simonds
Stearn
Stone
Tidd
Whittemore
Winship
152

Research for the Re-Interpretation of the Buckman Tavern

Transcription

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