"A Witness of the First Revolutionary Conflict" - Lexington's Mary Munroe Sanderson

Recently, the Nerds were contacted by Ruth Hodges, one of the founding members of the Ladies Association of Revolutionary America (LARA). LARA is a progressive, researched-based 18th-century living history group that encourages, supports, and promotes increased women’s voices and stories at historical sites and events. We’ll be honest - the Nerds are super fans of the organization and everything they do.

Ruth brought a surviving mid-19th-century photograph of Mary Munroe Sanderson of Lexington to our attention. The picture was taken in 1852 when Mary was 103 years old. As far as the Nerds know, this is the only surviving image of a female participant of the Civilian Evacuation of April 19, 1775, and eyewitness to the day's horrors.

Mary Munroe Sanderson was born to William and Rebecca Munroe in Lexington on October 10, 1748. Genealogical research suggests she was unrelated to the Munroe clan that owned Munroe Tavern. Instead, she belonged to a family far lower on the town’s social ladder. According to Lexington’s 1771 tax valuation, Mary’s family was part of the 7th decline, with the 1st decline being the wealthiest of residents and the 10th being the poorest.

Like most Lexington girls, Mary would have attended a “female” or “dame” school to receive instruction on reading and writing. In 1747, the town voted to allow girls to enroll in its “grammar” school, which focused on Latin, Greek grammar, and other advanced subjects. (Massachusetts grammar schools were created to help boys prepare for possible admission to Harvard or another educational institution.) It is possible Mary also enrolled in the town’s grammar school, but realistically, by age twelve, her primary education was housekeeping skills. Her mother or another female role model would have taught her to utilize raw materials and transform them 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.

Growing up, she would have engaged in or witnessed youthful and mischievous activities like her Lexington counterparts. At age 9, Mary likely witnessed the older teenage boys and girls who engaged in wild behavior outside the town’s meeting house during Sunday meetings. The conduct was so bad that residents held a special town meeting and resolved 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.”

As a teenage girl and young woman, Mary would have participated in tavern dances or “frolics” and frequented Buckman, Munroe, and other Lexington taverns to consume alcohol and socialize with members of the opposite sex. Of course, the “sinful behavior” of Mary and other teens in the early 1760s caught the attention of both parents and the Reverend Jonas Clarke, who warned the younger members of his congregation to avoid “patterns of youthful behavior: night-walking, frolicking, company-keeping, carousing, merry meeting, dancing, and singing.”

In February 1768, a poor Waltham carpenter named Samuel Sanderson arrived and occupied Lexington. Almost immediately, the town’s selectmen warned Sanderson out. “Warning out” was a practice of notifying non-resident poor that if they could not support themselves, the town would not support them, forcing the poor to return to their town of origin.

By 1771, Sanderson was still among the landless poor. Because he owned no real estate or personal property, such as livestock, or furniture, he did not appear on the town’s 1771 tax valuation.

However, Sanderson’s fortune appears to have changed after he began to court Mary Munroe. On October 22, 1772, the pair married and purchased a simple one-story home located along the Bay Road adjacent to the Munroe Tavern. Sanderson continued his work as a carpenter and was often called upon to make coffins for those Lexington residents. According to both family tradition and historian Michael J. Canavan, “Her husband using the basement for a workshop … Mrs. Sanderson related that many a night she had held the candle while her husband stained the 'narrow house' of some departed neighbor or townsman."

In July 1774, Mary gave birth to the couple's first child, a boy named Amos. Between 1776 and 1782, she had five more children - three girls and two boys.

In late 1774 or early 1775, Samuel was elected a corporal of Captain John Parker’s Lexington Company of Militia. Given his skills as a carpenter, it is possible Sanderson was assisting Jonas Parker (also a carpenter) in cutting down the stocks of fowling pieces so the weapons could accept socket bayonets.

Yet, despite these accomplishments, Mary and Samuel were still economically below the “middling sorts” of Lexington society. A 1774 tax valuation placed the couple firmly in the 7th decile, slightly above the poor of the town.

Samuel Sanderson House, Massachusetts Ave, Lexington, c. 1900

Sometime after 11 PM on April 18, 1775, the Sandersons received word of a British expedition advancing from Boston toward Concord. Realizing that their home was located along the path of the regulars, Mary began to prepare to evacuate her family to safety. According to early to mid-19th-century accounts, as Samuel prepared for war, Mary, her infant child and a pre-teen girl, who likely was a neighbor's daughter who served as a “helper,” gathered family valuables and “by the light of a lantern piloted their way to a refuge, the home of her father in new Scotland.” (New Scotland was a section of Lexington, along the Woburn line and occupied by Scottish immigrants.)

Mary, her son, and the young helper remained at her father’s residence until the afternoon fighting had cleared. Given the proximity of her home to the Munroe Tavern and Percy’s relief force, one would expect that the Sanderson home would have been plundered, torched, or vandalized. However, neither Mary nor Samuel submitted any claims to the Massachusetts Provincial Congress or Legislature seeking compensation for theft or property damage.

However, according to Canavan, Mary’s home was, in fact, damaged by the regulars. “After the British retreated Mary returned home and found a good many things had been stolen. Her cow (which was a good part of her marriage portion) had been killed.” worse, “a wounded British soldier was stowed away in her bed.” Furious, Mary allegedly cried out, “I won’t have him there,” and asked her husband, “Why didn’t you knock him on the head?”

A late 19th-century account by a Lexington resident who  interviewed her before her death asserts Mary stated “'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 … over one hundred 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 part of her marriage portion.”

Both accounts claim Mary refused to care for the wounded soldier and demanded he be removed from her home. Ultimately, the selectmen ordered Mary to care for the man.

Again, there is no direct evidence of Mary or Samuel caring for a wounded soldier. However, a review of Massachusetts legislative records from 1775 and 1776 revealed wounded British regulars treated by Lexington's residents, including a marine who received extended care before defecting to the American cause.

Mary and her husband remained in town for a few more years before moving to Lancaster, Massachusetts. According to the deed of sale, “In 1783, Samuel Sanderson in the town of Lexington, County of Middlesex, joiner, sold to Samuel Downing, wheelwright, once piece of property with a dwelling house, shop, and barn and one and one half acres.”

Mary and her family remained in Lancaster until Samuel passed in 1803. Afterward, she returned to Lexington. Sadly, it appears she may have outlived most, if not all, of her children. According to historian Heather Wilkinson Rojo, Mary suffered from acute arthritis in her later life. 

On September 23, 1852, the women of Lexington organized a fundraising party and successfully gathered over $300 in funds for her.

That same year, Mary Sanderson sat for the photograph that is the subject of this blog post.

On October 15, 1852, Mary passed at the age of 104 and was buried in the “Old Burying Ground” in Lexington. The engraving on her tombstone aptly describes her contributions to Lexington and the events of April 19, 1775:

Mary Munroe relict of Samuel Sanderson

Born in Lexington Oct 10, 1748

Died in East Lexington Oct 15, 1852

Age 104 years 5 days

A witness of the first revolutionary conflict, she recounted its trying scenes to the last. The vitality of her Christian faith was envinced by cheerfulness under severy bodily infirmity for more than twenty years.

"They Brought Together Every Ounce Contained in the Town, and Committed it to One Common Bonfire" - The Lexington Tea Burning

This Sunday, the Lexington Historical Society will commemorate the 250th anniversary of the town's tea protest. So what exactly happened that caused the residents of this dairy community to rise up and openly protest English economic policies?

In 1773, Parliament passed the Tea Act to refinance the shaky economic base of the British East India Company. Established in 1709, the East India Company derived over ninety percent of its profits from selling tea. However, by 1772, the company desperately needed a bailout due to severe mismanagement. The company directors looked to Parliament for relief. Parliament’s response was the Tea Act, through which the East India Company was given exclusive rights to ship tea to America without paying import duties and to sell it through their agents to American retailers. American merchants who had for years purchased tea from non-British sources (Dutch tea was a particular favorite of New Englanders) faced the prospect of financial ruin.

Massachusetts immediately opposed the act and began to organize resistance. On November 29, 1773, the tea ship Dartmouth arrived at Griffin’s Wharf in Boston. The Beaver and the Eleanor arrived at the same wharf three days later. Bostonians demanded that Governor Hutchinson order the three ships back to England. On December 16, 1773, the owner of the Dartmouth apparently agreed and went to Hutchinson to beg him to let the ships return to England. Hutchinson refused, and at approximately six o’clock that evening, some 150 men and boys disguised as Indians marched to the three ships, boarded them, and dumped 340 chests of tea into Boston Harbor.

Meanwhile, as tempers boiled over in Boston, the citizens of Lexington assembled three days before the Boston Tea Party to discuss the unfolding events. The matter was referred to the town’s committee of correspondence, which quickly drafted an emotional and stinging condemnation of the Tea Act.

"[It] appears that the Enemies of the Rights & Liberties of Americans, greatly disappointed in the Success of the Revenue Act, are seeking to Avail themselves of New, & if possible, Yet more detestable Measures to distress, Enslave & destroy us. Not enough that a Tax was laid Upon Teas, which should be Imported by Us, for the Sole Purpose of Raising a revenue to support Taskmasters, Pensioners, &c., in Idleness and Luxury; But by a late Act of Parliament, to Appease the wrath of the East India Company, whose Trade to America had been greatly clogged by the operation of the Revenue Acts, Provision is made for said Company to export their teas to America free and discharged from all Duties and Customs in England, but liable to all the same Rules, Regulations, Penalties & Forfeitures in America, as are Provided by the Revenue Act . . . Not to say anything of the Gross Partiality herein discovered in favour of the East India Company, and to the Injury & oppression of Americans; . . . we are most especially alarmed, as by these Crafty Measures of the Revenue Act is to be Established, and the Rights and Liberties of Americans forever Sapped & destroyed. These appear to Us to be Sacrifices we must make, and these the costly Pledges that must be given Up into the hands of the Oppressor. The moment we receive this detested Article, the Tribute will be established upon Us . . . Once admit this subtle, wicked Ministerial Plan to take place, once permit this Tea . . . to be landed, received and vended . . . the Badge of our slavery is fixed, the Foundation of ruin is surely laid."

The committee also issued six resolves pledging to preserve and protect the constitutional rights that Parliament had put into jeopardy, to boycott any teas "sent out by the East India Company, or that shall be imported subject to a duty imposed by Act of Parliament," to treat as enemies anyone found aiding in the landing, selling or using of tea from the East India Company, and to treat the merchants of the East India Company with contempt. Finally, the town expressed its gratitude to Boston for its undertaking in the name of liberty and pledged

"We are ready and resolved to concur with them in every rationale Measure that may be Necessary for the Preservation or Recovery of our Rights and Liberties as Englishmen and Christians; and we trust in God That, should the State of Our Affairs require it, We shall be ready to Sacrifice our Estates and everything dear in Life, Yea and Life itself, in support of the common Cause."

Upon completion, the Town of Lexington unanimously adopted the resolutions. Immediately afterward, an additional resolve was passed, warning the residents "That if any Head of a Family in this Town, or any Person, shall from this time forward; & until the Duty taken off, purchase any Tea, Use or consume any Tea in their Famelies [sic], such person shall be looked upon as an Enemy to this town & to this Country, and shall by this Town be treated with Neglect & Contempt."


That evening, the residents of Lexington gathered all tea supplies and burned them. According to the December 16, 1773 edition of the Massachusetts Spy "We are positively informed that the patriotic inhabitants of Lexington unanimously resolved against against the use of Bohea tea of all sorts, Dutch or English importation; and to manifest the sincerity of their resolution, they brought together every ounce contained in the town, and committed it to one common bonfire."

The resolves of Lexington reflected the general political mood throughout the American colonies on the eve of the revolution. Many colonists believed a set of corrupt and mysterious men had been able to assert control over George the Third, his ministers, and his favorites through bribery and deceit. Most Americans were certain that powerful men were plotting to make the colonists slaves by curtailing their liberties as Englishmen.

The common belief emerged that an immoral British government, having exhausted opportunities for plunder and profit in England and Ireland, was now seeking a dispute with the American colonies as an excuse to enslave and deprive them of their wealth and liberties. Parliament had hoped to accomplish this goal quietly, but the furor aroused in the colonies by England’s economic policies had given the government a temporary setback. Now, these mysterious men, who controlled Parliament and the king’s ministers, were undertaking to openly incite a war, declare American rebels, and enslave them. As early as 1772, Lexington was expressing apprehension that "[Our] Charter Rights & Liberties are in danger, are infringed and upon a most careful, Serious & mature Consideration of them . . . and are comparing them with Acts of the British Parliament, & Measures adopted by the British Court, Ministry & Government . . .some of which have been carried into Execution amongst us, We are clearly of opinion that . . . the Plan of Oppression is begun, & so far carried on that, if our Enemies are still Successful, and no Means can be found to put a Stop to their Career, . . . we have just Reason to fear That the Eyes of the Head of Government being blinded, the Sources of Justice poisoned and Hands of administration bribed with interest, the system of slavery will soon be complete."

The colonists' concerns and fears, evident in letters, journals, and diaries of the period, increased following the Boston Tea Party.

That action was viewed in England as so rebellious an act of defiance that it could not be ignored. As a result, the English Parliament adopted several harsh and restrictive measures aimed at punishing Massachusetts, but particularly Boston. On March 31, 1774, King George the Third signed the Boston Port Bill, intended to reprimand rebellious Boston severely. The port was closed to all seagoing traffic until damages for the destroyed tea were paid in full. The Massachusetts Provincial Charter of 1691, which residents viewed as a sacred guarantee of their liberties, was revoked. Additional regiments of regulars were dispatched to Boston and Major General Thomas Gage replaced Thomas Hutchinson as governor. Gage moved the seat of government from Boston to Salem and the customs office from Boston to Plymouth. The Governor’s Council was replaced with a non-elective Mandamus Council, town meetings were prohibited without the consent of the governor and jury trials were abolished.

To the citizens of Massachusetts, it was clear that the British government had thrown down the gauntlet. The passage of these “Intolerable Acts,” as they became known, was seen as the most blatant of England's attempts to provoke a war with her American colonies. Throughout the colonies, committees of correspondence toiled to spread this message and increase opposition to Parliament. Towns adopted covenants asserting their opposition to the British attempt to crush their rights, while Middlesex and Essex counties ordered its courts to refrain from conducting business.

On September 26, 1774, Lexington voted to form committees whose responsibilities were “to bring two pieces of cannon from Watertown and mount them, to provide a pair of drums for the use of the military company in town . . . [and] to have the militia and alarm list meet for a view of their arms.” On October 5, 1774, Lexington’s Deacon Stone was in Salem along with his fellow representatives to the General Court. There, when General Gage acted to adjourn the General Court arbitrarily, the representatives voted to make the Massachusetts Provincial Congress the governing body of the colony “to promote the true interests of his Majesty, in the peace, welfare and prosperity of the Province.”

Any hope of avoiding a civil war now seemed dashed.

In Boston, Hugh Earl Percy correctly surmised the state of affairs in Massachusetts on the eve of the American Revolution. “Things here are now drawing to a crisis every day. The people here openly oppose the New Acts. They have taken up arms in almost every part of this Province, & have drove in the Gov’t & most of the Council . . . A few days ago, they mustered about 7,000 men at Worcester . . . In short, this country is now in an open state of rebellion.”

"My Heart Became More Relieved of its Apprehensions" - Five Bada** Women from April 19, 1775 that the Lexington Minute Men Need to Honor

On November 16, 2023, the Lexington Minute Men amended its by-laws to admit women into the organization. The vote wasn’t even close. The membership expressed a sincere interest in sharing the stories of Lexington women who rose and met the challenges of April 19, 1775. As a result, the group resolved via a super-majority vote to open up the organization’s membership to women 18 years and older.

Every member of the Lexington Minute Men researches and portrays a male counterpart who fought at the Battle of Lexington. With the organization opening up its ranks to women, the membership now has the unique opportunity to honor every Lexington woman and girl who courageously faced the threats of the day, put their fears and misgivings aside, and helped ensure infants, children, the elderly, the bedridden, the infirm and the sick were safely evacuated from the storm of war.

The Nerds recognize that every Lexington woman caught in the storm of war on April 19, 1775, was a heroine in her own right. But that said, the Nerds secretly hope the following five bada** women of Lexington are the first to be honored for their actions of that day.

Abigail Harrington. After waking her husband and son so that they could gather their arms and equipment and join Captain John Parker’s Company on the Lexington Common, Abigail gathered her remaining children, all under the age of five, and personally led them to safety “down a lane back of the house across a meadow to the old place on Smock farm.”

Sarah Reed Whittemore. Sarah lived with her husband and her in-law parents along the Bay Road. On April 19, 1775, the young Lexington woman was still recovering from the birth of her third child 18 days earlier. With the British column approaching her home, she and her immediate family successfully gathered her children, carried Sarah and her newborn infant out of the house on a mattress, and retreated to the relative safety of a nearby woodlot just before the battle reached their home.

The Widow Lydia Mulliken. Lydia’s husband, a respected clockmaker, had died on the eve of the American Revolution. Her daughter, Lydia, was in a romantic relationship with Dr. Samuel Prescott of Concord. When word reached the Widow Mulliken and her daughters that Lieutenant Colonel Smith was leading a military expedition towards Lexington, they hurriedly buried the family’s silver and other valuables by a stone wall near their clock shop, then fled to distant safety. Later in the day, the Mulliken home would be plundered for valuables and burned to the ground.

Rebekah Fiske. In the early morning of April 19th, word reached the Fiske family that His Majesty’s forces were advancing on Concord. As many of her neighbors fled for safety, Rebekah was in a difficult situation. Her 83-year-old father-in-law, Lieutenant Ebenezer Fiske, was seriously ill and bedridden. At the same time, her husband was also suffering from some unknown impairment and was excused from militia service. As a result, she made the difficult choice of staying in her home.

According to a 19th-century narrative she shared with the Harvard Register, Fiske recalled, “I heard the guns … at about day-break, but being unapprehensive of danger, did not, like most of our neighbors move off for fear of the enemy; especially as my father was confined to his bed of a severe sickness so that in fleeing from the house we must leave him behind, which I could not consent to. Our domestics had already absconded, we knew not whither. I, therefore, and my husband, who on account of a certain indisposition, was incapacitated for military service, remained in the house with our father, while the enemy passed; which they did without offering us any injury. I remember well, their exact order, red coats, glittering arms, and appalling numbers.”

As previous research has suggested, many women and children who fled their homes earlier in the day returned mid-morning. According to Fiske, once word reached their location that the British were marching from Concord back to their location, a panic set in, and many civilians started to flee again. As the regulars approached, Fiske describes how she, her family, enslaved persons, and many of her neighbors made a mad dash across fields to escape the coming firefight.

 

"Sometime after, on their arrival at Concord, a report of musketry was once more heard, and in broken and incessant volleys. It was a sound of death to us. All now was trepidation, fever, and rushing to arms; women and children bewildered and scouring across the fields. With much ado we succeeded in yoking our oxen and getting father on his bed into an ox-cart, and thus moving him off as carefully as we could to a neighbor’s house, at some distance from the highway, on which we expected the enemy to return. Before leaving our house, I secured some of the most valuable of my effects, putting my large looking glass between two featherbeds, and fastening all the windows and doors. The house we carried farther to, had been already vacated, and here I was left alone with him. The dreadful sound of approaching guns was still ringing in my ears. Bewildered and affrighted, I betook myself into the house-cellar there to await my fate. Occasionally, I ventured to peep out to discover the approach of the enemy. After remaining some time in this dreadful state of fear and suspense, I at last discovered the enemy coming down a long hill on the highway partly upon a run and in some confusion, being closely beset by ‘our men’ in flank and rear. The terrific array of war soon came fully into view, and as soon passed off again from before my eyes, like a horrid vision, leaving only a cloud of smoke behind and the groans of the dying, who were strewed in its wake.”

Once the retreating army had passed her homestead, Rebekah returned to survey the damage. Upon arrival, she discovered a horrific scene. Not only had her home and surrounding property been vandalized and pillaged (both capital crimes in 18th Century Massachusetts), but she also discovered multiple casualties on the doorstep and inside her home. One of the dying was Acton minute man and school teacher James Haywood, mortally wounded earlier while exchanging musket fire with a British soldier at the Fiske’s water well.

As Rebekah graphically recalled in her 1827 statement, “After the rattle of musketry had grown somewhat weaker from distance, and my heart became more relieved of its apprehensions, I resolved to return home. But what an altered scene began to present itself, as I approached the house—garden walls thrown down—my flowers trampled upon—earth and herbage covered with the marks of hurried footsteps. The house had been broken open, and on the door-step—awful spectacle—there lay a British soldier dead, on his face, though yet warm, in his blood, which was still trickling from a bullet-hole through his vitals. His bosom and his pockets were stuffed with my effects, which he had been pillaging, having broken into the house through a window. On entering my front room, I was horror-struck. Three mangled soldiers lay groaning on the floor and weltering in their blood which had gathered in large puddles about them. “Beat out my brains, I beg of you,” cried one of them, a young Briton, who was dreadfully pierced with bullets, through almost every part of his body, “and relieve me from this agony.” You will die soon enough, said I, with a revengeful pique. A grim Irishman, shot through the jaws, lay beside him, who mingled his groans of desperation with curses on the villain who had so horridly wounded him. The third was a young American employing his dying breath in prayer. A bullet had passed through his body, taking off in its course the lower part of his powder-horn. The name of this youthful patriot was J. Haywood of Acton. His father came and carried his body home; it no lies in Acton graveyard. These were the circumstances of his death: being ardent and close in the pursuit, he stopped a moment at our well to slake his thirst. Turning from the well, his eye unexpectedly caught that of the Briton, whom I saw lying dead on the door-step, just coming from the house with his plunder. They were about a rod from each other. The Briton know it was death for him to turn, and the American scorned to shrink. A moment of awful suspense ensued—when both simultaneously levelled their muskets at each other’s heart, fired, and fell on their faces together. My husband drew the two Britons off on a sled, and buried them in one of our pastures, where they now lie, beneath a pine tree which has grown up out of their grave. The Irishman was the only one of the three that survived.”

Photo Credit John Collins Photography

Anna Munroe. Personally, the Nerds rank Anna Munroe as the most bad** of Lexington bada** women. Not only did Mrs. Munroe watch over Munroe Tavern while her husband was off fighting British forces, but Anna personally carried her three children to safety while exposed to British relief troops who were torching her neighbor’s homes and unleashing an artillery barrage on Massachusetts forces.

According to her daughter, she “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 . . . 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.’”

Any woman 18 years or older who is interested in joining the Lexington Minute Men may contact the organization here.

“In Every Other Busines of the Adjutant, To Whom He Is An Assistant” - The Role of the Sergeant Major in the Continental Army

Recently, a question was posed on the Facebook group “Progressive Rev War Reenactors” about the appropriateness of the rank of “sergeant major” and whether the position existed during the Revolutionary War era. There was also some confusion over where the rank fell within the command structure. Some assumed the position was a senior officer rank equal to that of a brigade command officer, while others asserted the position was an administrative role with little to no authority above a clerk.

So, what was a sergeant major of the American forces during the Revolutionary War, particularly for Massachusetts forces?

As a preliminary matter, the Nerds did serve as a sergeant major during many of the 225th commemoration events. We had the benefit of having mentors who took the time to carefully train us to ensure the interpretation of the role was accurate given the available research at the time. Finally, the Nerds were fortunate during the 225th to have a wonderful and very positive relationship with the British Brigade’s sergeant major, who always made himself available for questions, advice, and guidance on how the British army addressed the administrative and supervisory responsibilities of non-commissioned officers.

The Nerds' memories of being a sergeant major during the 225th were that of heavy administrative work - assisting the battalion adjutant, compiling returns, relaying brigade and company orders to sergeants, overseeing the formation of the regiment on the parade ground, and posting guards.

We did not command the battalion, a company, or a platoon.

When the question was posed to “Progressive Rev War Reenactors”, fortunately, several leading historians on the Continental and British armies, including John U. Rees, Don Hagist, and Eric Chetwynd, shared their research and knowledge on the position. This, in turn, spurred the Nerds to earn their keep and do a little digging of their own. This is what we found.

The position of “sergeant major” did exist in the 18th Century and was referenced in many pre-Revolutionary War drill manuals, including Bland’s Military Discipline (c. 1759 edition) and Cumberland’s A New Exercise. 

Photo Credit Rob Hoogs, Bidwell House

However, not all treatises were equal, and many pre and early Revolutionary War manuals and resolutions surprisingly did not reference the rank. For example, the Norfolk Drill, the Boston and New York Editions of the 1764 Crown Manual, and the Pickering Drill lacks any reference the position.

Similarly, a review of the minutes of the Massachusetts Provincial Congress reveals twenty-seven instances when the rank of “sergeant” or “serjeant” was discussed/ there are no findings within the minutes for the rank of sergeant major. Early pay scales for the Massachusetts militia and minute companies and regiments, as established by various towns, did not list sergeants major. Finally, the 1775 “Rules and Regulations of the Massachusetts Army” did not differentiate between sergeants major and other non-commissioned officers.

However, as historian John U. Rees noted, the position did exist within the Continental Army. A cursory review of Continental muster rolls confirms his position. For example, John Flowers of the 15th Massachusetts, John Hawkins of the 2nd Canadian Regiment and JohnChampe of Lee’s Legion all held the rank of sergeant major during the Revolutionary War. As discussed below, Baron Von Steuben even addressed the rank and responsibilities of a regimental sergeant major.

Excerpt from Cumberland's "A New Exercise"

Historian Don Hagist has indicated that a sergeant major was a regimental non-commissioned officer and was not part of a brigade, division, or army command staff. As such, a sergeant major held no authority over regimental or staff officers. Even a lowly ensign outranked a sergeant major.

Likewise, sergeants major did not wear any unique rank insignias or trappings of an officer to distinguish themselves from other sergeants. During the American Revolution, non-commissioned officers were merely identified by colored epaulets or strips of cloth. According to General Washington’s 1775 order, “corporals may be distinguished by an epaulet or stripe of green cloth sewed upon the right shoulder, the sergeants by one of red.” In June 1780, Washington issued a second order regarding NCO rank insignias. The order mimicked the 1775 instructions and required NCOs to wear a green or red epaulet on their right shoulder. At no point during the war did Washington or any other general issue orders regarding the wearing of unique clothing 

When a regiment paraded, a sergeant major did not field at the head of the regiment or with field officers. Instead, he was stationed at the rear of the regiment behind the center of the line. 

So with all this said, how was a sergeant major chosen, and what were their responsibilities in a regiment?  

Historian Eric Chetwynd shared the recommendations of Bennet Cuthbertson regarding sergeants major within the British army.

In his work, System For The Complete Interior Management and Oeconomy of A Battalion of Infantry, Cuthbertson outlines the expectations and duties of a sergeant major. Specifically,  “The choice of a Serjeant-major must never be influenced by any other consideration, than that of real merit; besides his being a compleat Serjeant in every respect, he ought to be sensible, sedate, and have a good address: in particular, he must be above conniving at the least irregularities committed by the Non-commission officers or Soldiers whom, he is to observe a becoming distance: he should be a perfect master of every branch in the interior management and discipline of a Regiment; be expert at Calculations, keeping Rosters, and forming Details: in his temper, he must have a certain degree of coolness, to give instructions in the Exercise, and to bear with patience the stupidity of Recruits, and often of the older Soldiers; at the same time that he possesses a necessary smartness, to enforce, when requisite, a strict attention to his directions: and as he has frequent opportunities, of closely attending to the morals and behavior of the Serjeants and Corporals, he should be quick in discovering their faults; and as ready in communicating them to the Adjutant, whose authority, he must, on every occasion endevor to promote.”

The United States Army’s Office of the Historian noted a sergeant major of the Continental Army was “required …  to be well acquainted with the management structure, disciplining the Soldiers and overseeing rosters and forming unit details.”

Excerpt from Von Steuben's "Blue Book"

Baron Von Steuben followed the recommendations of Cuthbertson. In his famed “Blue Book,” he suggested a sergeant major should be “well acquainted with the interior management and discipline of the regiment and the manner of keeping rosters and forming details. He must always attend the parade, be very expert in counting off the battalion, and in every other business of the adjutant, to whom he is an assistant.”

In short, a sergeant major was an administrative position that assisted the adjutant in managing the regiment. His other duties centered on supervising other sergeants, carrying out discipline, and assisting in guard and forage details.

The role of sergeants major has evolved over the past two centuries.

In 1820, the Massachusetts militia system and the United States Army expanded the role of the sergeant major to include offering practical and theoretical instruction to sergeants and corporals under their command. 

In 1920, the sergeant major position was eliminated by an act of Congress. However, in 1958, the rank was restored. By 1965, the Army had issued a policy statement declaring sergeants major “represent and uphold the image of “The Backbone of the Army” mentality. This position [is] tasked with answering to the Chief of Staff for enlisted affairs and acting as a personal advisor.”

A Call to Arms! - The Nerds Need Your Help

“The news reached us about nine o’clock A.M. The east company in Needham met at my house as part of the Military stores were deposited with me, they there supplied themselves, and by ten o’clock all marched for the place of action with as much spirit and resolution as the most zealous friends of the cause could have wished for. We could easily trace the march of troops from the smoke which arose over them, and could hear from my house the report of the cannon and the Platoons fired by the British.” - Excerpt from Memoirs of the Rev. Samuel West, Pastor (1764 – 1788), First Parish, Needham Massachusetts

 

Whelp, the Nerds have gone and done it.

Admittedly, we must have been consuming hard cider or flip when we came up with this so-called brilliant idea. Nevertheless, we’re ready to take this challenge on.

In anticipation of the 250th Anniversary of the American Revolution, we plan to create an online database of eyewitness accounts of the buildup to war in New England (1774-1775) and the Battles of Lexington and Concord. The database will be available to all and found on our website historicalnerdery.com

It is our hope that this database will serve as a central clearinghouse for students, teachers, historians, and researchers who wish to access primary and some secondary accounts detailing the events of April 19, 1775.

With that said, we need your help. 

While we are aware of most of the period accounts, there are so many accounts that we have either overlooked or missed. Maybe we missed an account from Portsmouth, New Hampshire or a minister’s diary from Wenham, Massachusetts.

In short, it doesn’t matter if it is from Lexington, Concord, Boston, Worcester or Springfield. We would like to ensure all known online accounts and transcriptions are part of this database.

Please consider directing us to any online period accounts you know by completing this brief form. We’ll take care of the rest!

https://forms.gle/FHCJKvAXzoP5VHcu9

Oh, and a brief disclaimer… The Nerds intend to offer all visitors access to this database free of charge. We will not profit from sharing vital historical records that should be readily accessible to the public at no cost.

"No Person Above Sixty Years of Age" - The Massachusetts Alarm Lists of Lexington and Concord

About two weeks ago, a question was posed on the Facebook discussion page “Progressive Rev War Reenactors” regarding what Massachusetts alarm lists were and what their role was on the eve of Lexington and Concord.

The Nerds, as well as several far more qualified (and admittedly better-looking) historians, chimed in on the topic. The result was a cursory overview of the Massachusetts militia system alarm lists.

But what are alarm lists, and what were their contributions to the wartime buildup on the eve of the American Revolution?

As a preliminary matter, Massachusetts colonial laws required men between the ages of sixteen and sixty to serve in their local militia company. Every town maintained at least one militia company and the units were organized into county-level regiments based upon location within the geographic jurisdiction. For example, the militia companies of the Merrimack Valley region of Essex County, Massachusetts, were organized into a regiment known as the “4th Essex Regiment of Foot”.

Within this militia system were the alarm lists. Alarm lists were essentially the "home guard" or the last line of defense for a community. Generally speaking, most alarm list members were over sixty. However, we have seen hints that some Middlesex and Essex County communities transferred men as young as fifty-five into the alarm list.

In addition to “older” males, alarm lists often included male residents between the ages of sixteen and sixty who did not serve in the town’s militia system. Most likely, these would have included males who were temporarily infirm or disabled or men ordered by the selectmen to serve in the alarm lists.

Alarm lists appear to be an 18th-century construct, as 17th-century Massachusetts colonial militia laws do not reference the term or concept. Similarly, early and mid-18th century amendments to the 1697 Militia Act do not reference Alarm Lists. In fact, the first official reference to such a reserve force appears to be in the 1757 Massachusetts Militia Act. However, based on the law's language and the lack of instructions on establishing and organizing alarm lists, the Nerds suspect the 1757 law was most likely a codification of an ongoing practice already in place rather than creating a whole new system. Admittedly, further research is needed, but It is suspected that the alarm list system developed in conjunction with the French Wars moving further west and north away from Massachusetts.

In the late 17th and 18th Centuries, the Massachusetts Colonial Legislature also passed a series of laws dictating how militia and non-commissioned officers were chosen, what arms and equipment militiamen should carry, and how often they should train. For example, the 1697 Militia Act required “That every listed souldier and other householder (except ' troopers) shall be alwayes provided with a well fixt firelock musket, of) musket or bastard musket bore, the barrel not less then three foot and a half long, or other good firearms to the satisfaction of the commission officers of the company, a snapsack, a coller with twelve bandeleers or cartouch-box, one pound of good powder, twenty bullets fit for his gun, and twelve flints, a good sword or cutlace, a worm and priming-wire fit for his gun ; on penalty of six shillings for want of such arms as is hereby required, and two shillings for each other defect, and the like "sum for every four weeks he shall remain unprovided, the fine to be paid by parents for their sons under age and under their command, and by masters or heads of families for their servants, other than servants upon wages.”

Similarly, before the Massachusetts wartime buildup of 1774/1775, militia companies were legally required to hold four training days per year plus two additional days for military “instruction” and “inspection” of arms and equipment.

The laws governing alarm lists generally mirrored those of militia companies. Members of alarm lists were required to hold elections to choose their officers, non-commissioned officers and clerks. They were also expected to acquire the same arms and equipment that a militia company was required to have. For example, a 1776 Massachusetts militia act declared that the men of alarm lists “shall, respectively, provide for, and equip themselves with, such arms and accoutrements as by this act is directed for those of the training- band in the militia, aforesaid”.

However, there were some exceptions and limitations with alarm lists that militia companies did not have. 

Alarm lists were not required to meet four times a year to drill and only had to assemble twice annually to inspect arms and equipment. As the 1757 militia law declared, “Every person borne on the alarm list, and not on the train band, shall, on the first Monday in May, and the last training day in the year, annually, between three and five of the clock in the afternoon, and while the trained bands shall be under arms, carry or send his arms and ammunition into the field to be viewed; and in case any person shall neglect or refuse to carry or send his arms and ammunition into the field as aforesaid, unless unavoidably prevented, he shall be liable to the same penalty for each day's neglect, as if he had not such arms and ammunition.”

Furthermore, in times of emergency or threats, such as the Lexington Alarm of 1775, alarm lists could mobilize, leaving the confines of a community to serve side by side with its sister militia company in the field. When such a scenario occurred, Massachusetts militia laws implied that the officers of alarm lists were subordinate to their fellow officers from their community’s militia company. Curiously, the requirement to mobilize with a sister militia unit became voluntary once an alarm list member reached sixty years of age. According to the 1776 Massachusetts Militia Act, “no person above sixty years of age … shall be compelled to march out of the town wherein they have their usual place of abode.”

The January 1776 Massachusetts militia law, entitled An Act For Forming And Regulating The Militia Within The Colony Of The Massachusetts Bay, In New England, And For Repealing All The Laws Heretofore Made For That Purpose, made the most significant change to the alarm list system during the American Revolution by restructuring age requirements of both organizations. Specifically, it restructured the service eligibility of militia and alarm lists. Unless excused by law, those between sixteen and fifty were required to serve in the militia. Men between the ages of fifty and sixty-five were assigned to the alarm lists. Those over sixty-five were outright excused from any service.

With all that said, what role did alarm lists play during the buildup to war or the Battles of Lexington and Concord? 

The short answer is that the alarm's "older men" significantly contributed to the war effort. On September 26, 1774, Lexington selectmen ordered the “alarm list meet for a view of their arms” as part of its wartime effort. On March 6, 1775, the Town of Westborough ordered that men from the alarm list be attached to Captain Brigham’s Minute Company and train on an artillery piece Westborough acquired in the Fall of 1774. By April 3rd, the Reverend Ebenezer Parkman noted the two units were frequently drilling together. Chelmsford ordered in March 1775 that its alarm list be “be equipt with fire arms and ammunition” in preparation for war. Haverhill, Andover and Newburyport’s alarm list companies were routinely “exercising” and “showing arms” with its sister militia and minute man units.

Although most alarm list companies remained behind to protect their communities during the Battles of Lexington and Concord, several alarm lists did mobilize to meet the British threat. As Lexington militiaman Daniel Harrington recounted during the early hours of April 19th, “the train band or Militia, and the alarm men (consisting of the aged and others exempted from turning out, excepting upon alarm) repaired in general to the common, close in with the meeting-house, the usual place of parade; and there were present when the roll was called over about one hundred and thirty of both.” When the Lexington men reformed later in the morning, elements of the alarm list were present with Parker’s men.

it is almost certain that alarm list companies from Cambridge, Lincoln, Concord and other communities mobilized in response to the British incursion into the Middlesex countryside as well.

According to various accounts, Mentomy’s alarm list successfully intercepted a supply wagon meant for the British expedition en route to Concord. Danver’s alarm list quickly mobilized and engaged in a forced march to intercept the British column as it retired towards Boston. Period accounts suggest the age men of Danvers fought side by side with their younger relatives and neighbors during a brutal hand-to-hand fight with His Majesty’s forces in Menotomy.

More research needs to be conducted regarding the contribution of alarm lists during the Battles of Lexington and Concord. The Nerds would like to direct our readers to the only known organization in the New England area portraying an alarm list … the Danvers Alarm List. This organization does a great job memorializing Danvers's contributions to the American Revolution, and they are all-around amazing people. Be sure to follow them on social media.

But that said, we will also ask the obvious … why aren’t there more older reenactors organizing and portraying Massachusetts alarm lists?

"Found Dead Within A Few Rods Of The House" - The Non-Combatant Casualties of April 19, 1775

The Nerds are once again returning to the Battles of Lexington and Concord and taking a deep dive into the civilian experiences of that fateful day. Today, we will discuss male non-combatants killed by British forces on April 19, 1775.

We became interested in this topic after journalist and entrepreneur Rasheed Walters contacted us to inquire if we knew of any civilians killed that day. The Nerds are aware of five individuals killed by British forces either during their advance on Concord or their retreat back to Boston. Four were adult males, and one was a child. The victims hailed from Woburn, Lexington, Menotomy (present-day Arlington, Massachusetts), and Charlestown.

As a preliminary matter, the Nerds have traditionally defined civilians (or non-combatants) of the Battles of Lexington and Concord as men, women, and children who did not serve in a combat or support role nor carried arms and accouterments in opposition to the British incursion into Middlesex County.

The day's first civilian casualty was Asahel Porter of Woburn.

Well before dawn on April 19, 1775, Porter and Josiah Richardson left Woburn on horseback, allegedly to travel to the Boston market. As the pair entered the Menotomy District of Cambridge, they collided with Colonel Francis Smith’s military expedition bound for Concord. Suspecting the pair were alarm riders, an officer and loyalist guide arrested the pair. According to Lieutenant Jesse Adair of the Marines, “here are 2 fellows galloping express to Alarm the Country, on which I immediately rode up to them, Seized one of them & our guide the other, [and] dismounted them.”

Porter and Richardson were quickly ushered towards the back of the column and placed under guard. However, as the British forces approached the Lexington common, Porter’s captors determined there was no longer a need to detain the pair and the two were released.

At some point after the skirmish commenced, Porter was retreating from his captors and was shot and killed. According to an 1824 deposition of Lexington militia man John Munroe, Porter “attempted to make his escape, and was shot within a few rods of the common.” Another eyewitness, Amos Locke, declared in his 1824 deposition he and his cousin Ebenezer found “Asahel Porter of Woburn shot through the body.”

Lexington's John Raymond was a neighbor of William and Anna Munroe and was employed by the family as a general laborer. Many 19th-century historians have argued Raymond was a “simple man,” and “a cripple”. However, recent research has suggested that he only suffered from a short-term, temporary disability that prevented him from fielding on April 19th.

Following the Battle of Lexington, Raymond watched over the family tavern while Anna Munroe and her children fled the property. That afternoon, British soldiers under the command of Lord Hugh Earle Percy shot and killed Raymond.

William Munroe’s 1825 deposition sheds some light on the circumstances of Raymond’s fate. According to the account, “On the return of the British troops from Concord, they stopped at my tavern house in Lexington and dressed their wounded. I had left my house in the care of a lame man, by the name of Raymond, who supplied them with whatever the house afforded, and afterward, when he was leaving the house, he was shot by the regulars, and found dead within a few rods of the house.”

Munroe’s 1827 obituary also refers to Raymond, noting the militia sergeant “participated with his company in the events of the day, leaving the care of his public house in the superintendance of a neighbor, whom the British killed on their retreat.”

The Menottomy Fight of April 19, 1775, was a brutal and vicious close-quarters fight between British regulars and Massachusetts provincials along the Bay Road. As the fight neared Cooper’s Tavern, Jabez Wyman and his brother-in-law Jason Winship were seated inside, each consuming several pints of alcohol. The ages of both men are unknown, but a period account does suggest the two men were elderly.

As the innkeeper, Benjamin Cooper, and his wife, Rachel, prepared to flee to safety, the pair pleaded for the two men to leave with them. They refused and continued drinking. Moments later, His Majesty’s army attacked Cooper’s Tavern.

Image Source: Minute Man National Park

A month after the Battles of Lexington and Concord, Rachel Cooper would provide a grim and terrifying account of Wyman and Winship’s fate. “The King’s regular troops under the command of General Gage, upon their return from blood and slaughter, which they had made at Lexington and Concord, fired more than one hundred bullets into the house where we dwell, through doors, and windows,…The two aged gentlemen [Winship and Wyman] were immediately most barbarously and inhumanly murdered by them, being stabbed through in many places, their heads mangled, skulls broke, and their brains out on the floor and walls of the house.”

The Rev John Marrett of Woburn’s Second Parish would later discuss the two men in a letter to his uncle, Rev Isaiah Dunster. In his correspondence, he noted the pair “died as a fool dieth.”

As the afternoon wore on, it became clear that His Majesty’s troops were quickly approaching Charlestown. In response, many residents of that community chose to flee. However, a fourteen-year-old child named Edward Barber remained behind. Little is known about the exact circumstances of his death, but a period account suggests his curiosity got the better of him. Barber was fired upon as while inside a house watching the British retreat. 

That evening, Jacob Rogers of Charlestown received news that his brother-in-law, “a youth of fourteen, was shot dead on the neck of land by the soldiers, as he was looking out of a window. I stayed a little while to console them.”

Sadly, the famed broadside entitled Bloody Butchery by the British Troops only identified Edward as “Capt. William Barber's son, aged 14”.

“Went Hallooing and Frolicking Through the Streets” - New England's Day of Darkness

With much of the Northeast United States enveloped in a weird, thick yellow smoke from the wildfires of Canada, the Nerds thought they would share an example of a similar event that struck Massachusetts and most of the northern colonies on May 19, 1780.

The sun rose, as usual, that day, but then the skies over New England quickly darkened. According to a 19th century account, “a dark dense cloud gradually rose out of the West and spread itself until the heavens were entirely covered, except at the horizon, where a narrow rim of light remained.”

In Weston, Massachusetts, merchant Samuel Phillips Savage marveled that a veil the color of cider had descended “over the whole visible heavens.”

George Washington, stationed in Connecticut with the Continental Army, reported the "Dark Day" in his diary. He wrote "Heavy & uncommon kind of Clouds--dark & at the same time a bright and reddish kind of light intermixed with them--brightning & darkning alternately. This continued till afternoon when the sun began to appear. The Wind in the Morning was Easterly. After that it got to the Westward."

The darkness was so complete that candles were required from noon onward. Connecticut’s Joseph Joslin was forced to abandon work on a stone wall for want of light. 

Could your thunder buddy have saved you during the 1780 Day of Darkness?

 

Samuel Phillips Savage noted that a neighbor stopped shoveling manure when he realized he couldn’t “discern the difference between the ground and the dung.”

“The fowls retired to roost,” Harvard professor Samuel Williams wrote, “the cocks were crowing all around, as at break of day; objects could not be distinguished but at a very little distance; and everything bore the appearance of gloom of night.”

Panic, confusion, and terror quickly spread among the residents of many New England communities. Men prayed, and women wept. Many waited in great fear for the arrival of the Four Horsemen.

Schools were closed, and hundreds of colonists left off work to seek refuge in taverns or churches. In Salem, the Rev. Nathaniel Whitaker warned that the Dark Day was the Almighty's wrath for the congregation's sins. Lawyer William Pynchon noted that a group of booze-soaked sailors “went hallooing and frolicking through the streets” of Salem and encouraged the town’s ladies to strip off their clothes and join them in morbid celebration. “Now you may take off your rolls and high caps,” they said, “and be damned.”

At some point, a rainstorm passed through the Merrimack Valley region of Massachusetts. Period accounts described the rain giving off a strong soot smell while the Merrimack River near Amesbury and Newburyport was coated in a black oily film.

One eyewitness described Boston as smelling like a coal kiln. 

A Young Woman Shucking Oysters by Lamplight by Robert Morland

 

Save for a few peeks of sunlight in the afternoon, the shade lingered over the Northeast for the rest of the day. The night that followed was remembered as one of the darkest on record. New Hampshire’s Samuel Tenney deemed it “as gross as ever has been observed since the Almighty fiat gave birth to light…A sheet of white paper held within a few inches of the eyes was equally invisible with the blackest velvet.” 

People slept fitfully, and many worried they would never see daylight. Much to the relief of New England, the shroud of darkness had lifted by the following morning.

What caused this unusual event? A scientific study of old trees in the Algonquin Highlands, Ontario, confirmed what many historians suspected - a massive wildfire in Canadian forests.

After careful examination, scientists found ‘fire scars’, (the presence of charcoal and resin) in the growth rings of the trees. These scars were dated to the same period as the so-called “Day of Darkness”.

"I Got My Chaise, Took My Wife and Children" - A Male Evacuee's Eyewitness Account of April 19, 1775

Over the past few months. The Nerds have discussed five known accounts of civilians, exclusively of women, who came in direct contact with His Majesty’s forces on April 19, 1775.

First up was Lincoln’s Mary Hartwell, who remembered coming in close contact with retreating British forces just as they were about to enter the Bloody Curve. “I saw an occasional horseman dashing by, going up and down, but heard nothing more until I saw them coming back in the afternoon all in confusion, wild with rage and loud with threats. I knew there had been trouble and that it had not resulted favorably for their retreating army. I heard musket shots just below by the old Brooks Tavern and trembled, believing that our folks were killed.”

As they fled the family tavern, Anna Munroe, wife of Lexington’s Sergeant William Munroe, and her 5-year-old daughter Anna nearly collided with the Royal Artillery and Percy's Relief Column. According to her 19th Century account, the child witness recalled she “could remember seeing the men in redcoats 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 . . . 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.”

The most notable female non-combatant who came into direct contact with the retreating British column was Hannah Adams of Menotomy. As previously discussed, the Menotomy Fight of April 19, 1775 was a vicious engagement that devolved into a bloody house-to-house and room-to-room fight for survival. Unfortunately, as this fight raged on, Hannah Adams, who had recently given birth and was bedridden, was trapped between Massachusetts militiamen and British regulars.

Like Hannah Adams, Hannah Bradish of Menotomy was also bedridden on April 19, 1775, having given birth to a child eight days earlier. As the regulars entered Menotomy, Hannah slept in bed with her infant. The sound of gunshots woke her up, and she quickly gathered her children and fled to the family kitchen at the back of the house. According to her statement submitted to the Massachusetts Provincial Congress on May 11, 1775, as she and her family hid behind furniture, bullets peppered her house and nearly struck her.

In a 19th Century newspaper interview, Lexington’s Rebekah Fiske described how she came in contact with His Majesty’s troops on more than one occasion and how she and other women and children were forced to flee from their homes to avoid the running fight between Massachusetts provincials and British regulars.

Recently, historian Katie Turner Getty brought to my attention an account of a male civilian, possibly a loyalist, who came in contact with the retreating column. 

 

Photo Credit: Nadia Peatie, MMNHP

As a preliminary matter, if you are not following Katie Turner Getty’s research efforts, you should. While the Nerds tend to focus on the events of April 19th between Lexington and Concord and the impact of the war in Essex County, Katie has taken a deep dive into Menotomy, Cambridge, and Charlestown’s contributions during the Battles of Lexington and Concord and the impact of the Siege of Boston.  

Two weeks ago, Katie and the Nerds attended the Saratoga 250th's "Women in War Symposium" in New York as presenters. During her lecture, Katie mentioned the exploits of Jacob Rogers and how he and his family came in direct contact with the retiring British forces as they tried to flee Charlestown, Massachusetts. Unbeknownst to the Nerds, J.L. Bell of Boston 1775 has also blogged about the incident.

As discussed in previous blog postings, there are numerous examples of Middlesex County men who qualified for service in the militia yet saw little or no combat on April 19th. Many could be classified as "evacuees" because they cared for their wives, mothers or daughters and assisted in helping them escape from the fight. Others did not fight because of “special circumstances”, including temporary injuries that prevented mobilization with the militia, an inability to secure arms and equipment, or the undertaking of specific duties, such as guarding captured British troops.

It appears Rogers fell under the “evacuee” category.

Jacob Rogers was a lieutenant in the Royal Navy. In 1774, he retired from service on board the HMS Halifax and settled, with his family, in Charlestown.

According to an October 1775 petition to the Massachusetts Legislature, Rogers became aware of the British expedition to Concord early in the morning of April 19th. “We were alarmed with various reports concerning the king’s troops, which put everybody in confusion About ten in the morning I met Doctor [Joseph] Warren riding hastily out of town and asked him if the news was true of the men’s being killed at Lexington; he assured me it was. I replied I was very glad our people had not fired first, as it would have given the king’s troops a handle to execute their project of desolation. He rode on.”

As an aside, the Charlestown militia did not mobilize on April 19, 1775. According to Jacob’s account, the reason why is obvious. “In the afternoon Mr. James Russell … received a letter from General [Thomas] Gage, importing that he was informed the people of Charlestown had gone out armed to oppose his majesty's troops, and that if one single man more went out armed, we might expect the most disagreeable consequences.”

As the afternoon wore on, it became clear that His Majesty’s troops were quickly approaching Charlestown. In response, many residents, including Rogers and his family, chose to flee. “A line-of-battle ship lying before the town; a report that Cambridge bridge was taken up … no other retreat but through Charlestown: numbers of men, women, and children, in this confusion, getting out of town. Among the rest, I got my chaise, took my wife and children; and as I live near the school-house, in a back street, drove into the main street, put my children in a cart with others then driving out of town, who were fired at several times on the common, and followed after. Just abreast of Captain Fenton’s, on the neck of land, Mr. David Waitt, leather-dresser, of Charlestown, came riding in full speed from Cambridge, took hold of my reins, and assisted me to turn up on Bunker’s Hill, as he said the troops were then entering the common.”

Shortly after that, it appears Rogers, his family, Mr. Waitt, and another unknown family came in direct contact with the regulars and were fired upon. “I had just reached the summit of the hill, dismounted from the chaise, and tied it fast in my father-in-law’s pasture, when we saw the troops within about forty rods of us, on the hill. One … Hayley, a tailor, now of Cambridge, with his wife, and a gun on his shoulder, going towards them, drew a whole volley of shot on himself and us, that I expected my wife, or one of her sisters, who were with us, to drop every moment.”
 

Photo Credit: John Collins

 

Rogers and his family continued to flee, apparently changing course and hiding in different locations to avoid the retreating regulars. Eventually, he and his family took refuge in a home near the Charlestown training field. While there, Rogers noted he found the “house full of women and children, in the greatest terror, afraid to go to their own habitations.”

After dark, the former naval officer and a few other Charlestown men walked about the town to determine if it was safe to return home. According to Rogers, “On our way, met a Mr. Hutchinson, who informed us all was then pretty quiet; that when the soldiers came through the street, the officers desired the women and children to keep in doors for their safety; that they begged for drink, which the people were glad to bring them, for fear of their being ill-treated.”

Sadly, upon returning home, Rogers and his wife received news that His Majesty’s troops had killed his fourteen-year-old brother-in-law as they crossed Charlestown Neck. “On our arrival at home, we found that her brother a youth of fourteen, was shot dead on the neck of land by the soldiers, as he was looking out of a window. I stayed a little while to console them, and went into the main street to see if all was quiet, and found an officer and guard under arms by Mr. David Wood’s, baker, who continued, it seems, all night; from thence, seeing everything quiet, came home and went to bed.”

To add to Roger’s misfortune, he attempted to reclaim his chaise the next day. To his chagrin, he discovered “my cushion stole, and many other things I had in the box.”

In the aftermath of Lexington and Concord, Lieutenant Rogers was quickly suspected of rendering aid to the enemy on April 19th. Of course, Rogers denied providing such assistance and ultimately submitted an account of his actions as detailed above.

Rogers and his family eventually moved to the Stoneham and Reading, Massachusetts areas, where they were treated with open hostility by the local residents. Eventually, he and his family were forced to flee to England.

 

"Plan of Charlestown Peninsula in the State of Massachusetts", c. 1818, Digital Commonwealth

Ms. Turner Getty provided a footnote about Lieutenant Rogers’ fate in a research article for the Journal of the American Revolution. In the aftermath of the American Revolution, he submitted a loyalist claim for compensation and openly proclaimed that he rendered material aid to the British troops in the aftermath of Lexington and Concord. Specifically, he asserted, “gave every relief and assistance in his power…to his Majesties’ troops on their retreat to Charles Town in refreshing the Officers and Men [and] procuring surgeons to dress the wounded.”