Sestercentennial for Sale

Here’s an excerpt from Dan Friedman and Amanda Moore’s article “Trump’s War on History,” in the March–April Mother Jones:

Uniformed troops were handing out free bottles of Phorm Energy—a beverage launched nationally the month before by Anheuser-Busch and Dana White, a vocal Trump supporter who runs the Ultimate Fighting Championship. Phorm, which bills itself as the “ultimate energy drink,” is an official sponsor of America250, a government-funded nonprofit organizing a series of celebrations for the country’s 250th birthday, culminating on July 4 this year.

When asked, a soldier explained he had been ordered to hand out the samples—despite Defense Department rules that bar the military from endorsing “a particular company, product, service, or website.” The Pentagon didn’t answer questions about this apparent violation.

So it goes with the Trump administration’s approach to the country’s semiquincentennial. Congress is expected to allocate some $150 million for the festivities, but that’s not enough to fulfill Trump’s vision. So corporations with links to the president or his inner circle—UFC, Palantir, Oracle, Amazon, Coinbase—have signed on as sponsors, pouring in millions of dollars alongside companies like Chrysler, Coca-­Cola, and General Mills.

The promise of all that cash and spectacle helped America250 lure a flock of political operatives with Trump ties. Chris LaCivita, who helped steer Trump’s 2024 campaign, joined as a strategic adviser. Campaign Nucleus, founded in 2021 by former Trump campaign honcho Brad Parscale, helped organize America250 events. So did Event Strategies, which staged Trump campaign gatherings in 2020 and 2024, as well as the January 6, 2021, rally near the White House that preceded the attack on the US Capitol. America250 said in January that it’s no longer working with these contractors but hasn’t disclosed how much they were paid.

America250 and the White House insist they are planning nonpartisan festivities for all Americans, rather than creating a slush fund to throw the president militarized birthday parties and advance hard-right ideology. But in reality, American history is being subordinated to Trump’s cult of personality. The president’s face is suddenly ­everywhere—next to George Washington on America250-themed National Parks passes; alongside Abraham Lincoln and Teddy Roosevelt on giant banners hanging from federal buildings; on a $1 coin under consideration by the US Treasury.

Faced with sporadic pushback from a congressional commission overseeing America250 and from career officials at various agencies, Trump is now seeking to evade even these modest constraints. In December, he launched a new organization, Freedom 250, that could implement his most outlandish anniversary events without the inconvenience of legislative oversight or mandatory bipartisanship. For the president’s 80th birthday this year, Freedom 250 will help organize a UFC fight on the White House lawn.

More about Freedom 250 appeared in the 8 February New York Times article “For $1 Million, Donors to U.S.A. Birthday Group Offered Access to Trump” by Kenneth P. Vogel, Lisa Friedman, and David A. Fahrenthold:

President Trump’s allies are offering access to him and other perks to donors who give at least $1 million to a new group supporting flashy initiatives he is planning around the nation’s 250th birthday, according to documents and interviews. . . .

Freedom 250 has also emerged as another vehicle, akin to the White House ballroom project, through which people and companies with interests before the Trump administration can make tax-deductible donations to gain access to, and seek favor with, a president who has maintained a keen interest in fund-raising, and a willingness to use the levers of government power to reward financial supporters.

Several of Freedom 250’s planned events and monuments lack obvious connections to the Boston Tea Party, the signing of the Declaration of Independence or other seminal moments in the nation’s founding. Rather, they are tailored to Mr. Trump’s political agenda and his penchant for spectacle, personal branding and legacy. They include the construction of an arch overlooking Washington, an IndyCar race through the nation’s capital, a national prayer event and an Ultimate Fighting Championship match on the White House lawn to coincide with the president’s 80th birthday.

Meredith O’Rourke, the president’s top fund-raiser, is amassing private donations for Freedom 250. Her team is circulating a solicitation, obtained by The New York Times, offering “bespoke packages” for donors.

While there are inconsistencies in the solicitation language, the detailed breakdowns of packages for donors indicate that those who give $1 million or more will get invitations to a “private Freedom 250 thank you reception” hosted by Mr. Trump, with a “historic photo opportunity.” Those who give $2.5 million or more also are being offered speaking roles at an event in Washington on July 4.

TOMORROW: History sources.

(The photo above shows the U.S. Justice Department in Washington, D.C., displaying a large portrait of a man convicted of multiple felonies intended to influence a Presidential election.)

“Acts of government could be resisted when they threatened the essential rights”

Jack Rakove is the William Robertson Coe Professor of History and American Studies emeritus at Stanford University, with parallel appointments in political science and law.

He’s the author of respected books of Revolutionary-era history, including Original Meanings: Politics and Ideas in the Making of the Constitution (winner of the Pulitzer Prize for History in 1997), James Madison and the Creation of the American Republic, and Revolutionaries: A New History of the Invention of America.

In other words, Rakove has worked largely in political history and how the Framers translated ideas into laws and policies for the new nation. When he uses the term radical, as in his 2020 book Beyond Belief, Beyond Conscience: The Radical Significance of the Free Exercise of Religion, he’s talking about the ideas of the Founders in their eighteenth-century context, not about the importance of now noting how hierarchical those men’s lifestyles were.

That’s something to bear in mind while reading Rakove’s essay for the Washington Monthly earlier this month, “Playing the Grinch at America’s 250th Birthday Party.”

In that essay Rakove writes:

Last June, I attended a conference on The American Revolution and the Constitution held at the American Enterprise Institute in Washington. It was the seventh of eight conferences that AEI has been holding on the 250th anniversary of independence. Given its conservative orientation, any conference sponsored by AEI would predictably take a celebratory turn, and so did this one. My own paper on “The Invention of American Constitutionalism” fits well within that framework. . . .

Yet at the conference dinner that followed, I became the grinch who wanted to rob the other happy campers of their semiquincentennial joy. Yuval Levin, our gracious host and convenor, started our post-dessert conversation by asking me, “What do you think the celebration of the 250th anniversary of independence will be like?”

“I think it is going to be a complete disaster,” I replied, and offered a few reasons to support that view. The most important one, directly relevant to our subject, was that the constitutional system is lurching toward collapse and outright failure.

That link leads to Rakove’s article from last June, “It’s Not Just a Constitutional Crisis in the Trump Era. It’s Constitutional Failure.” Having spent a career studying how the Constitution was supposed to work, he’s watching it not work that way at all.

Rakove discerns some hope in what his graduate-school colleague Pauline Maier described as “extra-legal resistance” in her excellent book From Resistance to Revolution:

In the colonies as in Britain, communities believed that certain acts of government could be resisted when they threatened the essential rights and interests of the king’s subjects. Various kinds of uprisings, riotous events, and militant protests did occur during the colonial era of our history. From the perspective of imperial officials representing the British crown, these protests were illegal acts to be repressed or punished. Ship captains in the Royal Navy believed they were acting legally when they forcefully impressed sailors for their warships. Merchant seamen, shipyard workers, or ordinary individuals innocently strolling the streets thought otherwise. When anti-impressment riots occurred, they enjoyed the community’s full support.

This tradition was well established before the Stamp Act Crisis of 1765 disrupted imperial politics. Some of the earliest protests against the Stamp Act were indeed too violent. It was one thing to intimidate individuals who thought they had received lucrative appointments as stamp collectors into resigning their commissions. That was the easiest way to halt the enforcement of the Stamp Act. It was another matter entirely to ransack the residences of royal officials, notably including the Boston mansion of Thomas Hutchinson, lieutenant governor and chief justice of Massachusetts. . . .

In the past few weeks, Minneapolis has become our Boston, and its citizens have become modern Sons of Liberty. Far more important, they and their counterparts in other communities have unknowingly revived the strategy of resistance that American communities deployed between the Stamp Act Crisis of 1765 and the crisis of independence. Blowing whistles, tailing ICE and Border Patrol vehicles, blaring airhorns outside the hotels where their agents are hopefully spending sleepless nights—these are modern versions of the extra-legal resistance that Maier described.

The protesters aren’t the only people behaving outside the law, however. The Trump administration continues to put unconstitutional pressure on Minneapolis, this past week announcing a freeze on paying for medical benefits for anyone in the state of Minnesota. It’s tried that tactic before through the Department of Agriculture, and been stopped by federal courts, repeatedly. That sort of tyrannical action naturally prompts protests.

“Possibly not the best man to colonize a new country”

I’ve been analyzing a letter from the Thomas Gage Papers at the Clements Library, written by Jonathan Hastings, Jr., on 11 June 1775.

Hastings addressed his correspondent as “Friend Jacob.” Their families were known to each other, and Jacob probably had connections to Harvard College.

Another clue to Hastings’s correspondent is his comment “Am happy you had so safe a Passage & found your Friends well.” Jacob was obviously traveling. Hastings then offered basic information about the siege, meaning he knew Jacob was far from Massachusetts. Crown forces probably intercepted the letter at sea, not on land.

I looked at the entries in Sibley’s Harvard Graduates for Harvard students in this period named Jacob who might have gone abroad. Almost all were settled down as ministers by 1775, usually inside Massachusetts.

One remaining candidate is Jacob Welsh (1755–1822) from the class of 1774. He was the son of John Welsh (1730–1812), a Boston jeweler and member of the club that used the silver punch bowl now called the “Sons of Liberty Bowl.” This Jacob had one brother, John, Jr., born in 1757.

Sibley’s says nothing about Jacob Welsh’s whereabouts between graduating in July 1774 and entering the Continental Army as an ensign at the start of 1776. (He served until late 1778, first at Fort Ticonderoga and then in the artillery.) Did Welsh leave Massachusetts in that stretch, missing the start of the Revolutionary War because he was in Europe, the Caribbean, or the west?

Jacob Welsh did prove more peripatetic than most of his peers. In addition, Sibley’s says, he “looked for the main chance wherever it might present itself.” After the war he settled in Lunenburg briefly, serving as the town’s legislative representative. But then he sailed to England, smuggling home a “carding and spinning machine” in hopes of securing a state patent for himself. In 1791 Welsh went to Philadelphia and applied to President George Washington to help build the new national capital. He invested in lots of land, as far afield as Louisiana.

In 1807, it appears, Welsh wrote to Gen. Henry Burbeck, a fellow veteran of the Continental artillery corps. According to Heritage Auctions, he submitted “suggestions for the defense of Boston,” including “substitutions for round cannonballs.”

By 1809 Welsh faced a legal judgment of almost a thousand dollars owed to a merchant in Salem. The authorities began to seize his local property. Welsh lit out for Geauga County, Ohio, to manage land that his father had bought a decade before. A county history published in 1878 stated:

Jacob Welsh was a native of Boston, of an old family, and reared in luxury, possibly not the best man to colonize a new country. At the time he came to Ohio, he was a middle-aged man; a gentleman of the old school, of medium height, fair complexion, dressed in small-clothes, with long hose and buckles at the knee, and shoe-buckles over the instep, liberally educated, of imposing appearance and stately address, quite fitted to the aristocratic drawing-rooms of Boston, but not appearing to especial advantage in the woods, trails, and cabins of the Western Reserve. While he was a good conversationalist, he had little energy, small business capacity, and a large disposition to spend money.

After another decade, enough people had settled around Welsh’s land to form a township. He promised his neighbors to “give glass and nails for a meeting-house, and fifty acres of land, to settle a minister.” In return, the township was named after him. In April 1820 Welshfield Township had its first election, and Jacob Welsh was chosen to be a trustee.

According to that county history, after Welsh died in 1822 locals found that he had “forgot” his promised bequests. Twelve years later, the community changed its name to Troy Township. That township’s website offers a more compact version of the story while Sibley’s says Welsh did make his promised donation. The county histories from 1878 and 1880 seem best documented, so I’ve relied on them.

Jacob Welsh’s gravestone appears above, courtesy of Find-a-Grave. The central, unincorporated part of Troy Township is still called Welshfield.

“It was not the Butler who fell in Battle”

I just finished quoting a letter that Jonathan Hastings, Jr., of Cambridge addressed to “Friend Jacob” on 11 June 1775. The letter probably never reached that friend because it’s in the files of Gen. Thomas Gage, the British commander besieged inside Boston at the time.

Hastings started by referring to “Your Brother’s Letter of 18th. May.” Later he wrote, “John intends to write to your Brother.” The writer had a younger brother named John, born in 1754 and graduating from Harvard College in 1772. Heitman’s Historical Register of Officers of the Continental Army says John Hastings “Served in the Army in 1775” but doesn’t specify a unit until 1777. Massachusetts Soldiers and Sailors of the Revolutionary War likewise documents his service from 1777 on, rising to brevet major.

It looks like the Hastings brothers, Jacob, and Jacob’s unnamed brother were all part of the same crowd in Cambridge, probably connected with Harvard. Jonathan expected Jacob to know where “the Red House leading to Charlestown” was. Jacob and the Hastings family had financial dealings.

That link offers an explanation for Jonathan Hastings’s line “It was not the Butler who fell in Battle, but a Samuel Cooke from Danvers.” Harvard had a staff position called the butler. This man oversaw the buttery, which sold snacks and other little items to undergraduates. Unfortunately, the Harvard archives says, “there is no complete list of all of the Harvard Butlers.” It looks like the college reserved the job for master’s students to hold for two or three years before moving on.

Harvard’s class of 1772 included Samuel Cooke, Jr. (1752–1795), son of the minister in Cambridge’s Menotomy precinct. Some college documents say Cooke filled in as librarian while reading for his master’s degree. I suspect that he was the college butler in that period, thus known to his classmates and those who came after as well as to the administration.

After Samuel Cook of Danvers was widely reported as killed in the fighting at the Jason Russell House, Jonathan Hastings assured his friend Jacob that this wasn’t the fellow they knew from the buttery. The Menotomy Samuel Cooke, Jr.’s most significant action on 19 Apr 1775 was dragging his father away from the fighting.

TOMORROW: A man on the move and on the make.

“Boston is environed on all sides”

Having shared his version of the Battle of Lexington and Concord, as quoted over the last two days, the new Cambridge postmaster Jonathan Hastings, Jr., turned to the current situation.

His 11 June 1775 letter described the siege this way:

Boston is environed on all sides. 7000 Men at Camb. 6000 at Roxbury, exclusive of smaller Numbers wch. guard the Coasts both Eastward & Southward. [Thomas] Gage acknowleges our Superiority in Number, but says we have neither Government, Discipline nor Powder. The two first Charges are false; and I hope the other Colonies will not be backward to Supply us with the last, to let him see he is mistaken in that likewise.—

Indeed we are determined to defend ourselves in the best manner at all Events, rather than submit to Slavery.—Our Motto is the same which Caesar engraved on his Breast Plate—“Nil actum reputans si quid superesset agendum.”

That was a standard eighteenth-century British rendering of a line from Lucan’s Civil War, appearing in the Spectator and Lord Chesterfield’s letters. It translates more or less as “As long as there’s anything left to do, we don’t consider anything done.” Curiously, that Latin line appears differently in modern editions of Lucan. I can’t explain the discrepancy.

Should Massachusetts be conquered, your Halcyon Days will soon be at an end. God grant our union may be like that of a Band of Brothers, wch. can never be broken. The Light Troops in Boston we are informed have not done Duty for 4 Days. An Attack is expected soon, for every Delay on their part is a Strengthening to us.

It was not the Butler who fell in Battle, but a Samuel Cooke from Danvers the largest Man in the Colony, I suppose

A Danvers man named Samuel Cook, Jr., was indeed among the provincial casualties on 19 April, killed at the Jason Russell House. I haven’t found any other reference to his size. I’ll discuss why Hastings mentioned him tomorrow.

You must excuse my not being more particular, as John intends to write to your Brother, and my Business call me away: therefore would just acquaint you that an half a whole Sheet with your Name alone will afford a particular Pleasure to your sincere Friend & very humble Servant

Jonathan Hastings Junr.

P.S.—My Father & mother desire to be remembered to you & your Friends, & would inform you that our Papers are removed into the Country, & we know not where to look for any Receipts, therefore beg you will make yourself easy with regard to us—&c
JH

That looks like a very familiar closing for an eighteenth-century letter, begging more time to pay bills. Or maybe Hastings was replying to a correspondent who had begged more time.

Of course, there was a war on. The Hastings house had become the headquarters of both the Massachusetts committee of safety and Gen. Artemas Ward, so it’s understandable that the family had moved their records out.

TOMORROW: Clues to the crowd.

“As ever the two Armies met”

Yesterday we left schoolteacher Jonathan Hastings, Jr., and the rest of Col. Thomas Gardner’s Cambridge militia contingent caught near the Lexington meetinghouse on 19 Apr 1775.

Lt. Col. Francis Smith’s expedition to Concord (which Hastings called “the Detachment”) was headed back their way from the west, harried by other militia companies.

Col. Hugh Percy’s reinforcement column (“the Brigade”) was approaching from the east. Percy had more soldiers. And he had cannon.

We return to Hastings’s 11 June letter, now in the Thomas Gage Papers:

We were commanded to retreat into a thick Grove of Oaks over a Meadow, up to our Knees in water, wch. saved us. The Brigade turned their Artillery immediately upon us.—Their Cannon Balls cut down the Branches of the Trees merrily but none of us were killed.

As ever the two Armies met, it being about 3 Quarters after one OClock, they begun a precepitate Retreat for Bunkers Hill in Charlestown under the Protection of the navy. There were not above 400 that attacked them, being 1850 at once that day. Lord Peircy put the Cannon in Front, himself in the Centre, & the Marines were formed in the Rear. The Grenadiers & Marines were nobly peppered. Peircy had a Ball shot thro’ the Bosom of his shirt.

Two Officers were treppaned in the Red House leading to Charlestown. Quarters were offered them, they refused, replying their Orders were neither to give nor take any Favour. They met Death bravely.—

It is easier for you to imagine, than for me to describe the Horrid Barbarity & savage Cruelty of the British Troops in their Retreat. Houses plundered & burnt, wounded Men begging for mercy, had Bayonets struck into their Heads, & the Piece discharged, Women in Child Bed commanded into the Streets with a Gun at their Breasts, Old Men unarmed thrust thro’ their Bodies. Harmless young Fellows shot dead, such was the horrid Scene.

But on our side no such Vestiges of Cruelty were seen or exercised on any who chose to live: the wounded taken the utmost Care of, & when exchanged for our Men who were taken Prisoners, & have been treated most inhumanly: they cryed like Children to tarry among us.—

Of course, the redcoats had their own tales of atrocities by the enemy, starting with the “scalping” at Concord’s North Bridge.

I can think of one example of a woman who had recently given birth ordered out of her house (Hannah Adams of Menotomy) and one of a young teenager shot when he peeked out a window (Edward Barber of Charlestown). But Hastings’s letter rendered those examples as plural. And I’m not sure what he referred to with the bayonets.

Likewise, Hastings’s numbers of the troops engaged—400 militiamen chasing off 1,850 regulars—are skewed to make his side look good. Many groups of 400 provincials attacked the British column in turn. The Massachusetts force had a clear advantage in numbers.

Hastings wrote of emergency surgeries in “the Red House leading to Charlestown” as if his correspondent knew that location. Indeed, there appears to have been a brick house fitting that description. I haven’t been able to identify who owned or lived there, but sources do refer to its appearance and location.

On 12 May the Massachusetts committee of safety mentioned “the red house at the head of the creek near the road from Cambridge to Charlestown.” Soon provincials built the “Red House Fort,” more commonly called Fort No. 3, to guard a nearby crossroads, as shown in the detail of Henry Pelham’s map above. Today the site is just south of Union Square in Somerville.

TOMORROW: Finishing the letter.

“At length we have had the Commencement of Hostilities begun”

Here’s an account of the start of the Revolutionary War that I don’t believe has been published before.

It’s a letter dated 11 June 1775 from Jonathan Hastings, Jr. (1751–1831), son of the steward of Harvard College, to a friend named Jacob.

Hastings graduated from Harvard in 1768 and a few years later become one of Cambridge’s school teachers. He was living in his father’s house beside the common, shown here. On 8 June, three days before writing this letter, the young man took the job of town postmaster.

Ironically, his letter appears to have been intercepted by the Crown forces because it’s filed among Gov. Thomas Gage’s papers at the Clements Library. The library offers scans and an imperfect transcription.

Hastings wrote:

Your Brother’s Letter of 18th. May we received the 9 of June. Notwithstanding my many Avocations (our House being made Head Quarters) I cannot miss an Opportunity of sending you a Letter. Am happy you had so safe a Passage & found your Friends well.

At length we have had the Commencement of Hostilities begun by Gage’s Troops, at the Battle of Lexington, where 8 of our Men were killed, there being about 50 assembled on a Green.—

The Evening preceeding the 19 of April, I was met by 11 Officers equipt with Pistols & Cutlasses; when I got Home I acquainted several Gentlemen therewith; but they thought it was like to prove nothing but a false Alarm. They were mistaken. About 2 OClock the next Morning, we were roused out of Bed to pursue 1100 Grendadiers & Light Infantry being a Detachment from all the Regiments in Boston.—

They made their way to our Magazines at Concord, but affected nothing more than destroying 80 Barrels Flour, knocking of [sic] the Ears of 3 twenty four pounders & burning the Carriages. A Quantity of Bullets they threw into a pond, but have been got out since.

Coll. [Thomas] Gardner ordered our Regiment to parade at Watertown, not knowing but that Gage’s Reinforcement would take that Course. He was mistataken [sic], they marched thro’ Cambridge, wch. being known our Regiment took the nearest Way to meet the Detachment. Unluckily for us we had no sooner placed ourselves in an advantageous Post near Lexington Meeting House to give Battle to the Detachment, than we perceived the Brigade in the other Side of us. Our Situation was bad, being between both Armies.

Well, that seems like an exciting place to break, doesn’t it?

TOMORROW: Under fire.

“Henry Knox’s Trek from Ticonderoga” in Acton, 26 Feb.

On Thursday, 26 February, I’ll return to the Acton 250 lecture series to speak about “Henry Knox’s Trek from Ticonderoga: Myths, Realities, and Results for Boston.”

Our event description says:

In early 1776, the young Continental Army colonel Henry Knox moved dozens of heavy cannons and mortars from Lake Champlain to the siege lines around Boston; one of the most famous stories from the Revolutionary War. And like many famous stories, it embodies a fair amount of legend and lore.

This talk sorts out what we know, what we only think we know, and what we should know about how Knox brought this “noble train of artillery” that helped to make all of Massachusetts independent.

The day on which I’ll speak will be the 250th anniversary of when Gen. George Washington informed the Massachusetts Council and the Continental Congress about the plan to fortify Dorchester Heights. On that same day the Boston official Ezekiel Price, then living as a refugee in Milton, wrote in his diary:

It is said that the heavy cannon which were left at Framingham are brought down to Cambridge;…every thing getting in readiness to make a push by our army.

For a month the fifty-eight artillery pieces which Col. Knox had managed to bring from Fort Ticonderoga had stayed in Framingham, being equipped with the necessary carriages and tools. Now they were moving forward to the siege lines. How would the Continentals use them?

This talk is scheduled to start at 7 P.M. in Room 204 of the Town Hall, 472 Main Street in Acton. It will also be shown live and recorded on Acton cable television.

(The photo above shows a cannon carriage being completed at the Hartwell Tavern in Lincoln. I took this photo during yesterday’s Minute Man Park/Fort Ti event.)

An Update from the President’s House in Philadelphia

Last month I noted the news reports that White House policy had pushed the National Park Service into removing signage in Independence National Historical Park which discussed people enslaved there in the 1790s.

Earlier this week the signs were restored under a court order while a lawsuit over them proceeds. The Trump administration is appealing that order and contesting the suit.

The lawsuit was filed by the city of Philadelphia, which participated in the creation of the President’s House Site and the signs, spending money on them. The city is therefore in the position to argue that it had a contract with the federal government. (The head of this administration is, of course, notorious for disregarding contracts.)

The administration has likewise pushed the removal of signage, books, photographs, flags, inconvenient scientific information, and other material from other national parks, as the press has documented. There’s even a grass-roots effort called “Save Our Signs,” aimed at collecting photographs of signage that might be affected by such trumpery. The legal situation in Philadelphia probably doesn’t apply in all those cases, meaning the damage will be harder to fix. 

The restoration at the President’s House was also made possible by the National Park Service’s careful storage of the signs. While they were gone, someone used a marker to improvise a replacement, as shown in the photo above. The cartoon President says:

I cannot tell a lie.
I, George Washington, “owned” human slaves on this very spot.
President Trump doesn’t want you to think about that.
Isn’t that great?!

A FURTHER UPDATE: On Friday another judge, acting on an appeal from the Trump administration, stayed the first judge’s order requiring all the signage to be restored. However, that order also stated that all the signage that had been restored so far must stay. So the site now has some of its dozens of signs visible and others back in storage.

The J.A.R.’s Books of the Year

The Journal of the American Revolution has announced its 2025 Book of the Year Award.

The winner is The American Revolution and the Fate of the World by Richard Bell (no relation, for the record).

The citation says:

The American Revolution undoubtedly changed world history. Many nations seeking their own independence tried to emulate the ideals of the Declaration of Independence, a document whose words still influence national and world events. What many people do not realize was that, at the time, the Revolution directly affected places all over the world. It was truly a global happening, reaching not only Europe, but also Latin America, India, China, and even Australia.

This is a book of synthesis, bringing together recent scholarship by many people to provide a global look at.

One of the runners-up took the opposite approach, looking at one community within one Massachusetts port: Enemies to Their Country: The Marblehead Addressers and Consensus in the American Revolution by Nicholas W. Gentile.

Gentile demonstrates how, even before a single shot was fired, the Revolution lived in the minds of this town’s residents as they harshly reacted to thirty-three signers of a letter of support to the departing governor Thomas Hutchinson. What follows is an interesting look at dynamics in this town—heavily influenced by Puritan theology—and the ways in which residents exerted social pressure to essentially coerce the signers back to the Patriot cause, placing ultimate importance on maintaining unity. Signers (“Addressers,” as they were called) ended up recanting through written and published statements, showcasing the growing importance of print culture during this period and the role that it played in creating a uniform identity going into the conflict. Gentile traces the fate of each of the thirty-three as they recanted and either rejoined the Patriot cause or, in the case of several, led lives in exile.

The other runner-up, The Course of Human Events by Steven Sarson, is a study of the intellectual roots and immediate impetuses behind the Declararion of Independence.

The “Noble Train” at Hartwell Tavern, 21 Feb.

On Saturday, 21 February, Minute Man National Historical Park and Fort Ticonderoga will present a special event titled “To Win The Siege: The Noble Train Arrives.”

The park says:

We invite you to join us…at the Hartwell Tavern to commemorate the 250th anniversary of Knox’s Noble Train of Artillery arriving and outfitting for battle. Witness history come to life as the artillerists of Washington's army haul cannon via oxen, prepare supplies, and conduct artillery firing demonstrations.

Inside Hartwell Tavern we welcome you to enjoy the warmth and learn about the ways everyday people confronted the immense difficulties of surviving a siege of their own.

The living history encampment at the Hartwell Tavern site will be open from 10 A.M. to 4:30 P.M. During that time there will be demonstrations of:

• Moving cannon with oxen, 11 A.M. and 3 P.M.
• Firing artillery, 2 and 4 P.M.

A Last Word on Basile Boudrot

Whenever I recount a story at length, I like to add some new sources, connections, or interpretations. I don’t want to just repeat what other writers have said.

But when I started researching suspected murderer Basile Boudrot, I couldn’t find that sort of material. I felt so stymied that I thought I’d have to confine the story to my Ko-fi updates, where I’ve started to share loose ends and research in progress. 

Ultimately, I spotted enough sources to fill the past several postings. But like everyone else who’s written about this case, I hit a brick wall in August 1776, when the Continental Congress voted to send Boudrot to Massachusetts.

As my closing thoughts, I’ll offer this scenario for how the sources fit together. Bear in mind that this is only one possible reconstruction, perhaps tinged by a fiction writer’s search for plot twists, liable to be upended with a single new document. But here goes.

February 1772: Capt. Thomas Parsons and his eight-man crew sail a schooner (name unknown) out of Newburyport, headed for the Caribbean.

March 1772: Parsons’s ship founders in a storm that blows a lot of vessels north. Meanwhile, Basile Boudrot boards a ship in France, heading to Nova Scotia. Along the way he opens a letter from his relative Marguerite Landry to the D’Entremont family, describing where their relatives hid money as the British expelled Acadians almost twenty years before.

April 1772: Boudrot reaches Nova Scotia and registers for his land grant on St. Marys Bay. But first he follows the directions in the Landry letter and unearths “1004 pieces of money.” Meanwhile, people in Newburyport worry about Thomas Parsons’s ship; no one reports seeing it in the Caribbean.

May 1772: Boudrot visits the D’Entremonts in Pubnico, assuring them that Marguerite Landry and her family are in good circumstances in France. Then he takes off for the province of Canada, abandoning his land since he’s already found a fortune with much less work. Benoni d’Entremont gets suspicious and writes to Landry in Cherbourg.

Summer 1772: The D’Entremonts ask questions in Nova Scotia about Boudrot. Passing ship captains from Massachusetts, including Hector McNeill, ask questions about the missing schooner. Locals talk about Basile Boudrot suddenly having a lot of money and no good explanation for it.

Fall 1772: Folks in Newburyport piece together information and conclude that Basile Boudrot was behind the disappearance of Parsons’s schooner, that he got suddenly rich from plundering that ship after killing all its crew.

Spring 1773: Marguerite Landry writes to the D’Entremonts from Cherbourg, describing the buried money and reporting that French sea captains have spotted Basile Boudrot in North America. In Massachusetts, the Parsons family presses for an inquiry into the alleged attack on the schooner.

Late 1773: Basile Boudrot has spent through most of his windfall. He picks up whispers that the D’Entremonts and Yankee mariners are all hunting him. He adopts the alias “Dugan” to work on ships around Montréal, Lake Champlain, and points west.

Fall 1775: Americans invade Canada, besieging Québec. Massachusetts mariners Hector McNeill and William Farris leave the city and go to work for the Continental Army.

Spring 1776: As the Continentals withdraw to Montréal, McNeill spots “Dugan” working on another supply ship. McNeill identifies this man as Basile Boudrot and demands his arrest.

Summer 1776: The Continental Army holds Boudrot prisoner in New York City until the Congress endorses Gen. Samuel Holden Parsons’s plan to send him to Massachusetts to stand trial.

Fall 1776: Soon after Boudrot reaches Massachusetts, the authorities realize the accusation against him doesn’t hold water: he wasn’t even in North America when Thomas Parsons’s ship disappeared. Out of embarrassment, they drop the case and never mention it again. People in Newburyport persist in believing that Nova Scotians plundered the schooner. Basile Boudrot disappears once more.

[The photograph above shows Smuggler’s Cove park on St. Marys Bay, Nova Scotia. Nothing says “law-abiding maritime community” like naming a place Smuggler’s Cove.]

“A Difficult Case” in Late 1776

As recounted yesterday, in August 1776 the Continental Congress voted to send Basile Boudrot to Massachusetts to be tried for murdering Thomas Parsons and his crew or, failing that, to send him to Nova Scotia for trial.

There were some problems with that plan. As John Adams said, “It is a difficult Case.”

Yet the Congress had little choice. Just that month, its members had signed the Declaration of Independence, which complained about the king (among other things) “depriving us in many cases, of the benefits of Trial by Jury.” So the new American union had to provide Boudrot with a jury trial.

Was Essex County the right venue, even if Capt. Parsons had sailed from Newburyport? One fundament of British law was that the accused should be tried in the jurisdiction where the crime was allegedly committed. And the accusation against Boudrot was that he’d attacked Parsons’s ship up at St. Marys Bay.

Again, the Declaration might come into play. Another of its grievances was that the king was “transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offences.” The Continental Army had transported Boudrot out of Canada down to New York, and now was sending him to Massachusetts. But really he should be tried in Nova Scotia.

That of course raised practical problems. Would Nova Scotia authorities share the Continental leaders’ wish to try Basile Boudrot, pushed by the desire of the victim’s brother, Gen. Samuel Holden Parsons of the Continental Army? How would that conversation go?

“So you want us to take this man and put him on trial for plundering a ship from Massachusetts four years ago?

“Yes!”

“Will you also send us Captains Nicholasson Broughton and John Selman, who plundered our Charlottetown just last year?”

“Oh, no, no, no.”

“Ah.”

“That happened during the war, you see.”

“The war that’s still going on.”

“Yes. But our commander-in-chief didn’t let those two men back into our army!”

“So you have them in jail, awaiting trial?”

“Er, no. They’re officers in the Essex County militia.”

And speaking of practical matters, even as the Congress in Philadelphia laid out this plan for dealing with Boudrot, the Continental commanders in New York were seeing the harbor fill up with Royal Navy ships and army transports. On 27 August, the British and American armies clashed in the Battle of Brooklyn. About a month later, the redcoats were on Manhattan Island, and New York City was burning.

Given all that, it’s not so surprising that Basile Boudrot’s paper trail ends. American Patriots felt obliged to try him in the proper legal venue, but preserving the paperwork to get him there might not have been the highest priority.

I hold out hope that an archive in Massachusetts, or in Nova Scotia, contains more clues to Boudrot’s fate. Perhaps as “Boudreau,” or “Dugan” (his reported alias), or “the Acadian” (as American generals referred to him). But given the murky case, his use of aliases, the fog of war, and the passage of time, I don’t hold out much hope.

TOMORROW: One scenario.

“An Order to try one Basil Bouderot, Accused of Murther”

According to the New-York Journal article I quoted yesterday, on 10 July 1776 Basile Boudrot was sent from New York to Newburyport to stand trial for murdering Thomas Parsons and his crew in Nova Scotia four years earlier.

But it appears that rendition wasn’t official; it may never have happened at all. Although newspapers in Massachusetts reprinted the New York article, none confirmed that Boudrot actually arrived in the commonwealth.

Instead, the next document in this case is a letter from Thomas Parsons’s brother, Samuel Holden Parsons, to John Adams. The two men had been at Harvard College together. Parsons was now a respected colonel in the Connecticut Line of the Continental Army.

On 24 July, Col. Parsons wrote to Adams from New York:

The Unhappy Fate of my Brother about 4 Years ago occasioned my prefering a Memorial to Congress for an Order to try one Basil Bouderot, Accused of Murther and Robbery, in the Province of the Massachusetts Bay; The Propriety of the Application I am in some Doubt of; whither it should be to Congress or to your Provincial Legislature. I beg you Sir to take the Memorial, make such Alterations as you think proper, or if not proper to be Preferd to Congress advise me in what Way to proceed to Avenge my Brother’s Death.

That memorandum has been lost, alas. All we have in the Continental Congress’s records is that the file was referred to a committee of Thomas Jefferson, James Wilson, and Roger Sherman the next day.

On 3 August, Adams wrote back: “Your Memorial has been duely attended to, and is under Consideration of a Committee. It is a difficult Case.” But for several days, nothing happened except that Parsons was promoted to brigadier general.

On 16 August, Adams got himself “added to the Committee to whom were referred the Letters and Papers respecting the murder of Mr. Parsons.” Five days later, that committee offered its recommendation, which the Congress adopted:

Resolved, That Bazil Bouderot…be sent to the state of Massachusetts bay, and there delivered to the council of the said state, and that it be recommended to the said council to proceed against the said Bazil Bouderot according to the laws of their state; but, if they have no law by which crimes committed out of their state may be tried within the same, that then they confine the said Bazil Bouderot, until the situation of public affairs will admit his being removed to Nova Scotia, where the crime is alleged to have been committed, and there submitted to a fair trial, according to the ancient laws of that province.

That wording suggests that Boudrot had not actually been sent from New York in July, but would be now. Or maybe this resolve made an earlier action official, legally turning over the case, and the prisoner, to one of the new states. The Congress record thus offers another place to look for more documents, in the archive of the Massachusetts Council.

Because that’s where the trail ends. The Congress never took up the case again. The editors of the Washington Papers found no more traces. The editors of the Adams Papers wrote:

This episode remains a mystery. . . . The full story was in a memorial Parsons sent to Congress, but this has not been found, and the ponderous Life and Letters of Samuel Holden Parsons by Charles S. Hall, Binghamton, 1905, does not even mention the matter.

TOMORROW: A change of venue?