“Praising and glorying in Lieutenant Jonathan Folsom”

In July 1898, The Spirit of ’76 magazine devoted much of its front page to a poem by Mary M[elissa]. Durgin Gray (1848–1939).

The poem was illustrated by a photo of Betsey Folsom Durgin, as shown here. She was the poet’s grandmother and herself the granddaughter of the poem’s subject.

Lieutenant Jonathan Folsom.

GRANDMOTHER dear, in the picture there,
With snowy cap and silvery hair,
Delighted to talk of the days of yore
And the part her honored grandsire bore,
First, in the great battles under the King,
And subsequently in the following
Of Washington and the heroes bold
Of the Revolution, and ever told
With a touch of pride her grandsire’s name,
Lingeringing [sic] slightly over the same,
Lieut. Jonathan Folsom.

Grandmother, in truth, was really quite small
When he died, at her father’s, his looks to recall;
Her big brother Isaac had doubtless instilled
In her mind the facts which their grandsire drilled
Into his; and her stories, eagerly learned
By me, (while my spirit with strong ardor burned)
Familiar as even the Bible tales grew;
I felt as if I had known Jonathan, too.
In school, the word lieutenant being given
To define, I, by artless child-logic driven,
Made answer, Jonathan Folsom.

His brother Nathaniel, more widely known,
To rank of Colonel rose under the Crown;
In General Congress, with Washington
And others, fame for sagacity won;
Then, after Lexington’s bloody affray—
Became Major General early in May.
Full due for his bravery Grandmother paid
Nathaniel, and praise, yet greater stress laid
On her grandsire’s service at famed Bunker Hill;
A volunteer, crippled—yet calling him still
“Lieutenant Jonathan Folsom.”

That Bunker Hill service!—Grandmother thrilled
My soul as she talked of the brave soldiers killed
Around him—her one-legged grandsire brave—
As he toiled in the fray, his loved country to save.
How, firing the mortar, of which he had charge,
Sending bombs on the deck of a man-of-war large
In the harbor, he caused her at last to retire.
(Had they known the projector, how great were their ire.)
The Stamp Act’s repealing, some nine years before
He had sought to announce with an old cannon’s roar;
It burst, and one leg was forever despoiled;
Yet think you his work for his country was foiled,
Lieutenant Jonathan Folsom’s?

Do you think that a man who, when scarce twenty-two
(Commissioned Lieutenant) the French to subdue,
Engaged in the siege of Louisburg when
The untutored troops against disciplined men
Small chance had of winning, (yet they did.
Though their work ’neath the boast of the Red-coats was hid);
Do you think such a man could abide in the rear
When he saw his old comrades gathering near,
When those Louisburg drums (after Lexington’s fray)
Were used in the battle on Bunker Hill day;
When Gridley who Pepperell’s batteries laid
Likewise the intrenchments at Bunker Hill made,
Lieutenant Jonathan Folsom?

At Duquesne, Crown Point and Niagara, you
See the War Rolls record him and Nathaniel, too.
Historians tell how the Exeter men
The French force defeated again and again.
Brave Jonathan, shot through the shoulder, yet bore
His part in the capture of prisoners and store;
Therefore, when Nathaniel was given command
Of the troops in this region, could Jonathan stand
Inactive because he was minus a leg?
Ah no, he had gotten a fine wooden “peg,”
And he strayed into the battle, enlisted or no,
Performing his part in routing the foe;
Lieutenant Jonathan Folsom.

Years have passed—all these patriots lie in their graves;
The banner of Liberty over them waves;
For Freedom they fought and in Freedom they died;
The country they gave us is glorious and wide;
Their memory many essay to revive;
Societies vieing in keeping alive
Accounts of their deeds and the fields where they fought,
And I, in the wave of enthusiasm caught,
The record of Jonathan hastened to find,
Because, I confess, it was more to my mind
To enter the line with a title, though slight;
(Another great grandfather gave me a right.)

He with Stark, as a private, to Bennington went;
But in Jonathan’s name my papers I sent;
What though as a private I found him enrolled?
By epaulets only is bravery told?
His previous record and service proclaim
The man, and I quote, “What’s there in a name?”
But Grandmother, low in her far-away grave?
Did she know that her hero, her grandsire brave,
As “Jonathan, private,” recorded had been
All those years she was praising and glorying in
Lieutenant Jonathan Folsom?

Most of this poem is a retelling of the family lore about Jonathan Folsom, as discussed yesterday—and a depiction of how that story was passed down and embedded in younger generations’ minds.

The phrase “To enter the line” clearly places this composition during the period when it was new and fashionable to join the Daughters of the American Revolution and Sons of the American Revolution. Gray made clear she was eligible for membership (“Another great grandfather gave me a right”).

However, the last stanza takes an amusing swerve into how Jonathan Folsom is not listed as a lieutenant on any rolls from the Revolutionary War. How embarrassed Gray’s grandmother might be to learn her grandfather was a mere private in 1777!

Except he wasn’t. The Jonathan Folsom in the poem had a son of the same name, much more eligible for emergency militia service against the Burgoyne campaign than a one-legged, fiftysomething retired lieutenant. Indeed, that younger Jonathan Folsom was Betsey Folsom Durgin’s father, so she probably knew about his short Revolutionary service.

Lt. Jonathan Folsom was unquestionably an officer in one of the North American colonial wars. The General Society of Colonial Wars had been founded in 1893, making some of his descendants eligible for membership—but the National Society Daughters of Colonial Wars wouldn’t arise until 1917.

On her death, Mary M. Durgin Gray was described by her daughters as an “author of children’s stories.” I’ve found two poems attached to that name in the Granite Monthly in 1900 as well as a sketch in the Boston Home Journal. Those magazines also published some items credited to Mary M. Gray in a similar style, so I bet those are hers, too. But I can’t find any published stories for children.

“He hobbled into battle on his wooden leg”

Jacob Chapman’s 1882 Genealogy of the Folsom Family: John Folsom and His Descendants, 1615-1882 devoted an apprendix to Jonathan Folsom, sharing this bit of family lore:

when the Revolutionary war commenced, he set out for another campaign, and found his way to Bunker Hill. Here he hobbled into battle on his wooden leg, and took charge of a mortar

It is said that at the second shot he threw a bomb upon the deck of a British man-of-war, which led her to draw off as soon as possible into safer quarters.

There’s no supporting evidence for this story. No other American account says the provincial forces at Bunker Hill had a mortar. (They had six four-pounder cannon, though only one trained gun crew at the height of the battle.)

No American veterans described a man with one leg amputated above the knee joining the fight. Nathaniel Folsom didn’t mention his brother in the letters he sent back to New Hampshire.

No British naval sources complained about provincial mortar fire or blamed a shell for pulling back from the battle.

One source for this tale, if not the only one, was Jonathan Folsom’s granddaughter Betsey, born in 1792. She could have known her grandfather directly since he died around 1800. Betsey Folsom married a man named Daniel Durgin and then outlived him by three decades, dying in 1878. Her son Mark William Franklin Durgin of Medford appears to have been one of Chapman’s sources on the family.

After the Chapman book, the story of Jonathan Folsom firing a mortar at Bunker Hill appeared in a few publications of the Sons of the American Revolution. Though Lt. Folsom’s service in the French & Indian War was well documented, descendants joining that organization needed to say he fought in the next war as well.

TOMORROW: Versifying.

“Having loaded a Swivel that had lain buried near 25 Years”

Last month I quoted in passing how “Ensign Jonathan Folsom was shot through the shoulder” in the Battle of Lake George in 1755.

According to some family historians, this Jonathan Folsom (1724–1800?) had also served in the Louisburg campaign ten years earlier.

However, the man of that name was already a lieutenant in 1744, and he was listed as “Decd.” on 20 Jan 1745 in New Hampshire records. So I think that was probably a relative.

By 1758 the former ensign Folsom had recovered from his shoulder wound enough to be serving as a first lieutenant. (His younger brother Nathaniel Folsom rose much higher in provincial military rank.)

The 2 June 1766 Boston Post-Boy ran this article:

We hear from Exeter, that great Rejoicings were made there on Monday last, upon receiving the News of the Repeal of the Stamp-Act, by Ringing of Bells, Firing of Cannon, Illuminations, Fireworks, &c.

The following Accident happened last Monday at Newmarket, to Lieut. Jonathan Falsom of that Town—he having loaded a Swivel that had lain buried near 25 Years, it burst in Pieces, one of which struck him in the Breast and several others in one of his Legs which split the Bone thereof to Pieces, on which the Surgeons thought proper to cut it off above the Knee.

The first paragraph was the summary of an item in the 30 May New-Hampshire Gazette from Portsmouth, the second a word-for-word transcription of a later paragraph from that paper.

The timing strongly suggests that Folsom decided to fire the old swivel gun (a small cannon designed to be mounted on fortification walls or ship rails) to celebrate the Stamp Act repeal. And that turned out to be a poor decision.

That history wasn’t always transmitted accurately, though. One genealogy for this family, Nathaniel Smith Folsom’s Descendants of the First John Folsom (1876), said the accident happened during “rejoicings over the recent capture of Louisburg.” Everything pointed back to Louisburg.

TOMORROW: More Folsom family lore.

“We march’d into the camp & told the army what we had done”

I’ve been quoting Capt. Nathaniel Folsom’s account of his New Hampshire troops’ fight against a French and Indian force south of Lake George in the late afternoon of 8 Aug 1755.

He continued with lively detail:

After being closely engaged for about three quarters of an hour, they kill’d two of our men & wounded several more on our left wing, where they had gain’d a great advantage of us.

Which, with our being very much tired and fatigued, ocсаsioned us to retreat a little way back; but finding by our retreat we were likely to give the enemy a greater advantage we rallied again in order to recover the ground we had lost, and thinking that if we quitted the ground we should loose our greatest advantage, about fifteen or twenty of us ran up the hill at all hazard. Which we had no sooner done but the enemy fired upon us vigorously; & then, seeing us coming upon them (we being charg’d & they discharg’d) they run & gave us the ground.

Whereupon we all shouted with one voice and were not a little encouraged. In this skirmish Ensign Jonathan Folsom [the writer’s brother] was shot through the shoulder & several others wounded. At every second or third discharge during the engagement we made huzzas as loud as we could but not to be compar’d to the yells of our enemies, which seem’d to be rather the yellings of devils than of men.

A little before sunsetting I was told that a party of the Yorkers were going to leave us, which surpris’d me. I look’d & saw them in the waggon road with packs on their backs. I went to them & asked where they were going. They said to Fort Edward. I told them they would sacrifice their own lives & ours too. They answer’d they would not stay there to be kill’d by the damn’d Indians after dark but would go off by daylight.

Capt. [John] Moore and Lieut. [Nathaniel] Abbott & myself try’d to perswade them to tarry, but to no purpose till I told them that the minit they attempted to march from us I would order our New Hampe. men to discharge upon them. Soon after which they throw’d off their packs & we went to our posts again.

Upon my return to my tree, where I had fought before, I found a neat’s tongue (as I tho’t) and a French loaf, which, happening in so good a season, I gave myself time to eat of; & seeing my lieut. at a little distance, much tired & beat out, I told him if he would venture to come to me, I would give him something to comfort him. He came to me & told me I was eating a horse’s tongue. I told him it was so good I tho’t he had never eat anything better in his life.

I presently saw some Yorkers handing about a cagg of brandy, which I took part of & distributed amongst the men. Which reviv’d us all to that degree that I imagin’d we fought better than ever we did before.

Between sunsett and the shutting in of daylight we call’d to our enemies: told them we had a thousand come to our assistance; that we should now have them imediately in our hands; and thereupon made a great shouting & beat our drums. Upon which they drew off upon the left wing, but stood it on the front & right wing till daylight was in & then retreated & run off.

Then we begun to get things ready to march to the lake, when Providence sent us three waggon horses upon which we carry’d in six wounded men; made a bier & carried one on, lead some & carry’d some on our backs. We found six of our men kill’d & mortally wounded so that they dyed in a few days, and fourteen others wounded & shot through their cloaths, hatts, &c. With much difficulty we persuaded the Yorkers to go with us to the lake.

In about an hour after the battle was over we march’d & sent two men forward to discover who were inhabitants at the lake. Who met us and told us all was well. Whereupon we march’d into the camp & told the army what we had done. As soon as they understood by us that we had drove the enemy off & made a clear passage for the English between forts, the whole army shouted for joy, like the shouting of a great host.

That was the third part of the Battle of Lake George. The French forces had won the first stage with their ambush of the British column heading south to Fort Lyman (Edward). But pressing that attack brought out the larger British force camped at Lake George, and the Crown won the second stage. Then Capt. Folsom, Capt. William Maginnis of New York, and other provincials came up behind the French fighters who had fallen back and started this third and smallest stage.

TOMORROW: Who won?