The Chevalier in Boston, 24–25 Oct.

Back in 2017, Boston 1775 shared a couple of postings about Joseph Bologne, the Chevalier de Saint-Georges, a celebrated swordsman and musician of French and African ancestry. At the time his compositions were being rediscovered in concert halls.

On the evenings of 24 and 25 October, Concert Theatre Works will present The Chevalier: The Life and Music of Joseph Bologne, Chevalier de Saint-Georges at Emmanuel Church on Newbury Street in Boston.

More on this production:

Bologne was a contemporary of the Revolutionary generation with an extraordinary story of his own: born in Guadeloupe to an enslaved mother, he became a virtuoso violinist, composer, and champion fencer in 18th-century France, and later led a regiment during the French Revolution. Despite all of that, his music was largely written out of the canon after his death.

The show tells his story through the words of his contemporaries and the music he composed, performed live by The Chamber Orchestra of Boston alongside young musicians from Project STEP and actors from Concert Theatre Works.

The production was conceived, written, and directed by Bill Barclay, former Director of Music at Shakespeare’s Globe in London. It was commissioned by the Tanglewood Music Festival, premiered there in 2019, and has toured the U.S. and U.K. for seven years. This is its first time in Boston.

Scroll down on this page for a two-minute trailer about the show. To purchase tickets for the upcoming performances, go to this site.

In Search of Phillis Wheatley Peters at Old South, 1 Oct.

On Thursday, 1 October, Revolutionary Spaces’s Old South Meeting House will host a showing of Leslie Askew’s documentary In Search of Phillis Wheatley Peters.

This 35-minute film “reclaims the life of Phillis Wheatley Peters, America’s first published Black poet and 18th-century congregant at the Old South Meeting House. The film illuminates a largely overlooked chapter of her story: her marriage to John Peters and the radical choices she made in pursuit of autonomy, dignity, and love.”

After the screening, there will be a panel discussion with filmmaker Askew, biographer David Waldstreicher, and Jeneé Osterheldt, the Boston Globe’s Deputy Managing Editor for Culture, Talent, and Development. Audience members will be able to pose questions to the panel.

This documentary has been shown at the American Antiquarian Society, Salem State University, U. Mass. Amherst, and other sites, but this will be the first time it is screened in the poet’s own chosen place of worship.

This program is free and open to the public. Doors will open at 6 P.M., and the program will begin at 6:30. To register for a seat, visit this webpage.

The producer’s website lists other upcoming screenings in the next several weeks.

ADDENDUM on 28 September: This event at Old South has been postponed.

Jortner on “Jewish Patriots” in Worcester, 29 Sept.

On Tuesday, 29 September, the American Antiquarian Society will host an online presentation by Adam Jortner on “A Promised Land: Jewish Patriots, the American Revolution, and the Birth of Religious Freedom.”

It looks like this presentation will be based on Jortner’s book of the same name, published by Oxford University Press in 2024. On the Jewish Book Council website, Stuart Halpern described that book like this:

…a mag­is­te­r­i­al his­to­ry of Amer­i­ca’s first Jew­ish cit­i­zens. It weaves tales of promi­nent lead­ers like Ger­shom Seixas and Jonas Phillips with lit­tle-known accounts of rev­o­lu­tion­ary Jew­ish troops, fundrais­ing for the first syn­a­gogues (and sub­se­quent intra­com­mu­nal dis­putes), and Jews respond­ing to anti­semitism by chal­leng­ing their antag­o­nists to life-endan­ger­ing duels. Demon­strat­ed through­out the book is how the Jew­ish com­mu­ni­ty in Amer­i­ca’s ear­li­est years wres­tled with its past and mapped its future — just like the coun­try itself. . . .

Jort­ner places great empha­sis on how Jews peti­tioned against test oaths, pledges to Chris­t­ian val­ues that pre­vent­ed Jews from hold­ing polit­i­cal office. These efforts helped shape reli­gious free­dom in the Unit­ed States.

Adam Jortner is a professor of American History at Auburn University. His other books on early American history include The Gods of Prophetstown: Tippecanoe and the War for the American Frontier and Blood from the Sky: Miracles and Politics in the Early American Republic.

Jortner has explored various channels for sharing historical information with the public, from a regular column in Current magazine to being part of the writing team for Where in Time Is Carmen Sandiego? His Audible downloads include The Hidden History of the Boston Tea Party, Faith and the Founding Fathers, and a new 24-lecture Great Courses series on the year 1776.

This online event will take place from 7 to 8 P.M. Register through this page.

Also available now via the A.A.S. is Prof. Ronald Angelo Johnson’s talk on his new book, Entangled Alliances: Racialized Freedom and Atlantic Diplomacy During the American Revolution.

Johnson, the Ralph and Bessie Mae Lynn Professor of History at Baylor University, discusses “the ways in which English and French language newspapers from 1758 to 1783 informed and inspirited revolutionary Atlantic inhabitants in British North America (later the United States) and French Saint-Domingue (later Haiti) toward freedom, liberty, and equality.”

Thomas Lynch and the Continental Army’s Black Soldiers

On 23 Oct 1775, Thomas Lynch, Jr., and two of his colleagues in the Continental Congress, Benjamin Harrison and Benjamin Franklin, conferred with Gen. George Washington and political leaders of the New England colonies about setting up the Continental Army for the coming year ahead.

Most of the current army’s enlistments ran out in December. Only the rifle companies from Pennsylvania, Virginia, and Maryland had enlisted on different terms. They had promised to serve for twelve months, or until the middle of 1776.

One of the many questions that October conference considered was:

Ought not Negroes to be excluded from the new Inlistment especially such as are Slaves—all were thought improper by the Council of Officers?

Washington’s generals had followed his lead in voting to exclude black soldiers, though there were some opposing voices, as I discussed back here.

Thomas Lynch, as a southern planter and politician, almost certainly supported the idea of keeping black men out of the army. His fellow South Carolinian, Edward Rutledge, had even proposed pushing black soldiers out in September and “was strongly supported by many of the Southern Delegates,” according to the notes of Richard Smith of New Jersey.

That makes Lynch’s letter to Washington on 8 December particularly interesting. By then the general was worried that not enough men of any sort would re-enlist for the new year. If the British heard about an incredible shrinking enemy, Washington feared, in January they would charge out of Boston and Charlestown and overwhelm the thin Continental lines.

Lynch wrote to the commander:

I shall not take upon me to advise. tis as improper as needless. your Rifle Men, Negroes, & Deserters may in proper passes defend your artillery Ammunition & Stores[.] shoud your Lines be deserted, & the glorious, golden opertunity of ending the War be lost, let not Hope be lost also.

Somehow Lynch believed that the “Negroes” in the Continental ranks would still be available to Washington, along with the riflemen (whose enlistments were still in force) and “Deserters.”

It’s such a brief comment that it’s hard to know what Lynch was thinking. Did he expect the black soldiers would be in the same boat as the deserters, with nowhere else to go? Was he so used to ordering around enslaved people that he automatically assumed Washington could demand the “Negroes” stay?

Either way, Lynch’s remark was a backhanded acknowledgment that the Continental Army did have soldiers of African heritage, despite Rutledge’s efforts, and that they might be most valuable in the worst emergency.

Lund Washington’s Letter Mentioning William Lee’s First Wife

On 30 Dec 1775, Lund Washington wrote a letter to his distant cousin George, who was also his employer.

George was off in Cambridge commanding the Continental Army. As his cousin’s plantation overseer, Lund caught him up on various details of the operations at Mount Vernon.

As published in the Papers of George Washington in the 1980s and shared at Founders Online, that letter ended abruptly:

I will have gravel Carted for the walks. One of the men that went out with James Cleveland left him when he found they were likely to suffer.

There was no signature. “This document is incomplete,” said the editors, nonetheless adding a period to the end.

That letter was in the collection of Mount Vernon Ladies’ Association. At some point in the next quarter-century, scholars must have gotten a better look at it. Perhaps it had been mounted or otherwise sealed off.

Today Mount Vernon shares a scan of that page, plus the opposite side with the rest of the letter.

It turns out Lund Washington continued his sentence on the next page: “…were likely to suffer for want of provisions.” (George Washington had sent James Cleveland out to his Ohio claims.)

Later the letter says:

if it will give Will any pleasure he may be told his wife and child are both very well.

Directed to Gen. Washington from Mount Vernon, that comment had to refer to William Lee, his body servant, one of the few other people to make the trip to Massachusetts. It’s the only evidence to indicate that William, born about 1751, had married and fathered a baby before the war.

I didn’t know this source when I wrote about William Lee in a report for the National Park Service on Washington in Cambridge. That report highlights how in February 1776 the general paid Margaret Thomas to make shirts for Lee, years before the man told Washington that he and Thomas had married during the war. We don’t have any documents saying when Lee’s first marriage ended.

Mary V. Thompson, the Mount Vernon historian specializing in its enslaved community, cited Lund Washington’s 30 Dec 1775 letter in a 2014 article for the Journal of the American Revolution. It’s informed other writing about William Lee since, such as his entry at the Encyclopedia of Virginia.

However, Mount Vernon doesn’t share a transcript of the full letter. There’s no indication at Founders Online, which is based on the printed Washington Papers, that a more complete text exists. Rotunda’s index for William Lee doesn’t note this letter among the documents referring to the man.

The result is a scholarly paradox. Lund Washington’s letter to his cousin is now available for anyone to read. But half of it—perhaps the most interesting half—is impossible to find through the standard way to access George Washington’s correspondence.

A Boston Stone

This month the city of Boston announced a new finding about a stone in the Granary Burying Ground that reads:

HERE LYES Ye.
BODY OF BOSTON
AGED 70 YEARS
DECd. FEBy. Ye. 28
1 7 2 8

Kelly Thomas, director of the Historic Burying Grounds Initiative for the Boston Parks and Recreation Department, told WBZ: “I was reviewing the photos of headstones, and then I noticed that the stone only had one name.” A geographic name, at that. That hinted the person buried there had been an enslaved man.

Some documentary research turned up records of such a man. Indeed, Gloria McCahon Whiting discussed Sebastian’s marriage to Jane Lake at length in her 2024 book, Belonging: An Intimate History of Slavery and Family in Early New England. Judge Samuel Sewall helped to negotiate the terms of that union at the same time he was writing The Selling of Joseph, his pioneering but self-suppressed anti-slavery pamphlet.

On 13 Feb 1701, after protracted discussions between the couple’s two owners, the judge married the couple. Sebastian’s owner, John Waite, died the next year. Six years after that, when the Boston selectmen listed free black men in town they put to work mending roads (since those men were free/barred from militia training), one of those men was identified as “Bastion Waite.”

Interestingly, Sebastian’s wife came to be known as Jane Basteen and then Jane Boston, taking (or being assigned) her husband’s name while he was assigned his late owner’s surname. As Whiting pointed out, Sabastian would name his second son Joseph, echoing Sewall’s pamphlet. Meanwhile, Sebastian’s name evolved into “Boston.”

The issue of the New-England Weekly Journal dated 24 Feb 1729 included this death notice:

On the 14th. Instant [i.e., of this month] died here a Negro Freeman named Boston, in an advanced Age, and on the 17th, was very decently Buried. A long Train follow’d him to the Grave; it’s said about 150 Blacks, and about 50 Whites, several Magistrates, Ministers, Gentlemen, &c.——

He having borne the Character of a sober Virtuous Liver, and of a very trusty honest and faithful Servant to all that employ’d him, and having acquir’d to himself the general Love and Esteem of his Neighbours by a Readiness to do any good Offices in his power for every one; his Funeral was attended with uncommon Respects, and his Death much lamented.

The carved gravestone, whether paid for by Boston’s estate or by his friends, was another sign of his standing in the community. It is, Mayor Michelle Wu now notes, “one of the oldest gravestones of a free Black person in America.”

At first I was confused by the different death dates stated in the newspaper and on the gravestone. But then I realized the stone was written in the Old Style, Julian date system while the newspaper followed New Style, Gregorian dating decades before the British Empire adopted it officially.

Uncovering Boston Jersey

Earlier this month the Guardian reported on how researchers had unearthed new information about a figure in this portrait.

For hundreds of years, he was known only as “Jersey”, an enslaved boy of about 11 rendered in oil on canvas by the great 18th-century portrait painter Sir Joshua Reynolds. . . .

The painting, thought to have been completed around 1748, shows the boy and his “master”, the naval officer and MP Paul Henry Ourry. While Ourry looks out into the distance authoritatively, the enslaved child gazes up at the officer tentatively. . . .

Scouring admiralty records, letters, muster books (ships’ registers) and captains’ logs, [Mark] Brayshay and Katherine Gazzard, a curator at Royal Museums Greenwich, found him named as “Boston Jersey” on ships that Ourry was attached to.

They believe he may have been given the surname Jersey because Ourry was born in the Channel Islands. It is possible he had his first name because he once lived in Boston, Massachusetts.

The researchers discovered Jersey was baptised as George Walker (possibly a name he had been known by earlier in his life) on 30 July 1752, probably in a chapel in Westminster.

The article has a little more to say about George Walker and much more about the restoration of the painting.

This discovery led to the quick creation of a Wikipedia page about Boston Jersey/George Walker.

“To Vax or Not to Vax” walking tour in Boston, 17 May

On Sunday, 17 May, the Partnership of Historic Bostons is offering a walking tour titled “To Vax or Not to Vax: Smallpox in Early Boston.”
The organization says:

The subject of our newly revised walking tour is smallpox, one of the great killers of the 17th century. This European disease found fertile ground in the growing colonies in New England, with the most devastating effects suffered by Native Americans who had no immunity. Up to 90% of the Massachusett Tribe, whose land included Boston and Charlestown, perished, their villages lying empty and providing English colonists with unoccupied land for reasons that Puritans saw as providential.

English colonists had some immunity but, even so, successive generations suffered wave after wave of deadly smallpox outbreaks. . . .

During the tour, we will investigate how the colonists saw smallpox and tried to contain it, and how smallpox roiled their society in a number of ways. Had God handed the Shawmut peninsula over to them by clearing out the Native population, or was he punishing them with the same pestilence for not sufficiently following His word? Could smallpox be successfully treated by medical methods practiced since the time of the Romans, or would new, more radical methods (some employed by Africans, including Cotton Mather’s enslaved African Onesimus, and Turks) prove more effective?

This tour is led by Michael Prochilo. It will start outside of Park Street Station at 2:30 P.M. and is scheduled to last 90 ninety minutes. Because of construction projects, the route is not wheelchair-friendly. Participants are reminded to bring water [Sunday might bring our first 80°F. days this year] and wear comfortable shoes.

“The only ‘emancipation’ relevant to this site was Ona Judge’s own”

On 21 April, the Philadelphia Inquirer shared an opinion piece about the President’s House exhibit by Sharon Ann Holt, a public historian recently retired from Penn State Abington.

Holt was previously director of education and interpretation at the Historical Society of Pennsylvania and director at the Sandy Spring Museum in Maryland. She’s the author of Freedom Pay: North Carolina Freedpeople Working for Themselves, 1865–1900.

The web headline for Holt’s essay is “We can’t give in to the Trump administration’s attempts to make the history of slavery invisible in Philadelphia.” I don’t know if it appeared in the newspaper’s print edition, and the webpage now behind a paywall unless one has a guest link. So here’s an extended extract:

The digital images posted on the Park Service’s website make it clear that, under Donald Trump, the first priority of the Park Service seems to be to make enslaved people and slavery itself as invisible as possible. Panels that discussed the lives of urban enslaved people, Philadelphia’s free Black community, the Washingtons’ enslaved “family,” fugitives from enslavement (and the laws Washington signed to reclaim them) have all disappeared. The rich biographies of Christopher Sheels, Hercules, Richmond, Austin, Giles, Ona Judge, Joe Richardson, Moll, and Paris have shrunk to single sentences. . . .

So what stories are they telling? George and Martha’s determination to flout Pennsylvania’s six-month limit on holding people in slavery is reframed as a lovely gift of theatre tickets rather than their cynical move to get enslaved people across the river to New Jersey, thus restarting the six-month residential countdown. I’m surprised the Park Service left out the Washingtons’ “kind” willingness to let enslaved workers visit their families left behind in Virginia, which worked the same trick.

If Park Service bureaucrats value relevance, I challenge them to explain the transformation of the story about 18th-century slavery at the President’s House into a puzzling evocation of the Emancipation Proclamation of the 19th century and the Civil Rights Movement of the 20th century. Is it that, to them, all stories having to do with African Americans belong in the same place? They must think so, because they have randomly added completely irrelevant references to Frederick Douglass, the Civil War, the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., the Underground Railroad, and Abraham Lincoln to the history of the President’s House.

Worse, the Park Service has embraced sentimental claims that Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and James Madison all “had their doubts” about slavery from the beginning.

None of those “doubts” persuaded the Founders to end slavery when they could have, either in our founding documents or in their own personal lives. None of the 19th- and 20th-century stories that the Park Service has shoehorned into their new panels ever involved the President’s House at all. The only “emancipation” relevant to this site was Ona Judge’s own self-liberation — the very story the Park Service has all but erased.

Speaking of irrelevance, the opening panels are even more laughable. Park Service interpreters have decided to feature discussions of the 1876 Centennial, the 1926 Sesquicentennial, and the 1976 Bicentennial, all of which happened long after the President’s House had been remodeled into oblivion or entirely demolished. . . .

If the judges choose these new panels to replace the ones taken down earlier this year, they will disparage millions of Americans who have struggled since 1776 to improve on the shaky foundations the founders laid. The President’s House should honor those struggles, alongside the nine people enslaved there by George and Martha Washington.

While Holt directs her critique at the National Park Service, which produced this revised signage, it’s clear that agency was working under directives from the White House. Based on what sort of historical presentations the White House has produced on its own, N.P.S. historians undoubtedly worked hard to drag this material into the realm of historical fact, even if it’s far from complete and relevant.

Museum of African American History Events on the Revolution

The Museum of African American History in Boston has opened a new exhibit called “Black Voices of the Revolution: Liberty, Emancipation, and the Struggle for Independence.”

The museum website says:

What do you do when a country cries out for liberty—but won’t offer it to you? In the shadowed alleys and crowded docks of Revolutionary-era Boston, Black men and women—enslaved and free—listened as white colonists thundered about freedom. They heard the speeches. They read the broadsides. But they knew: the liberty being shouted from the rooftops was not meant for them. Still, they stepped forward.

Interact with AI-driven, holographic images of primary sources, and the men and women who represented the African American community in Massachusetts during the period from the 1620s to 1800. Ask questions of the interactive using a voice activated program or by simply typing your queries on a touchscreen.

Those personages include Lucy Terry Prince, Phillis Wheatley Peters, Chloe Spear, and more.

On Tuesday, 17 February, the museum will host an event called “Digging Deeper into Black Voices of the Revolution.” Chief Curator and Director of Collections Angela Tate and Prof. Nedra Lee will discuss the process of assembling that exhibit. That free event is due to run from 5 to 7 P.M. at the museum on 46 Joy Street. Register to attend here.

On Wednesday, 18 February, the Massachusetts Historical Society will host a panel discussion on the topic “Whose Independence: Black Experiences During the American Revolution.” The panelists will be:

• Dr. Noelle Trent, Museum of African American History | Boston & Nantucket
• Dr. Benjamin Remillard, Providence College
• Dr. Chernoh Sesay Jr., DePaul University
• Dr. Kyera Singleton, Royall House and Slave Quarters

The panel description says:

As cries for liberty and clashes with the British broke out in the American colonies, enslaved and free Black people fought for independence on the battlefield, in courtrooms, and their communities. In petitions and writings, they argued that there were contradictions in a fight for freedom that didn’t include a full abolishment of slavery. Following the promise of freedom advertised, many enslaved men enlisted as soldiers. Many joined the Patriot cause while others volunteered with British forces. Throughout the war and in the years following, free Black leaders built the African Lodge and African Meeting House and established spaces for religion and education in their communities.

That event will run 6 to 7 P.M. Register to attend in person or online starting at this page.

Back at the Museum of African American History, on Thursday, 26 February, it will host the first U.S. showing of “In Search of Phillis Wheatley Peters,” Leslie Askew’s thirty-five-minute documentary about the poet, her work, new discoveries about her life after marriage, and her cultural legacy. That event is scheduled from 6 to 8 P.M. It is free, with donations welcome. Reserve a space here.

Shown above is the first-class stamp featuring Phillis Wheatley, just issued by the U.S. Postal Service.

Historical Signage Removed at Independence National Park

Back in September, I shared news reports of the Trump White House complaining about signs at the President’s House Site in Independence National Historical Park.

That mansion, now gone, was the home of Presidents George Washington and John Adams in the 1790s. During Washington’s time, it was a site of enslavement—and of self-liberation.

Two of the Washington’s staff, Oney Judge and Hercules Posey, escaped from bondage at that house and made their way to free lives in New Hampshire and New York, respectively. (Boston 1775 readers might recall this blog played a tiny part in documenting Posey’s presence in New York.)

In erecting brick walls to show the outline of the mansion, the National Park Service also developed detailed signage to interpret the history of that site for visitors. That’s standard N.P.S. procedure, with the material going through many reviews for accuracy.

Last week, the Philadelphia Inquirer reported that N.P.S. workers had acted under orders to remove all those signs. All that remains now is a list of the people documented as enslaved in President Washington’s household, etched in cement. (And I have no idea how long that list will remain visible.)

I first read complaints about commemorating slavery at Independence N.H.P. over twenty years ago on the Revlist discussion group. I pointed out that this was also a story of people gaining their liberty and independence, so what park could be more fitting?

The objector was unwilling to recognize that freedom for black Americans was more significant than comfort for white Americans. That same attitude is evident in the current trumpery from the White House.

This President’s respect for historical fact is evident in his June 2024 comment on Washington owning slaves: “Actually I think he probably didn’t.” Likewise his 4 July 2019 statement about how the Continental “Army manned the air, it rammed the ramparts, it took over the airports,…”

After years of complaints that any community’s removal or alteration of a statue or monument was tantamount to erasing history, this administration is literally erasing history from a public site. But only a particular sort of history. 

Online Lectures from the National Parks of Boston

The National Parks of Boston and the Boston Public Library are teaming up to offer some online lectures for the Sestercentennial.

The announcements of these events don’t names the speakers, but they’re usually N.P.S. rangers and other experts who have researched the topics thoroughly.

Wednesday, 14 January, 6 to 7:30 P.M.
Benedict Arnold: The Trials and Contributions of an Early Patriot
Register here

Before his name is booed across the land, Benedict Arnold was an avid supporter in the Patriot cause. In order for his name to be so reviled he first had to make an impact to the cause. This program will explore the contributions made by Benedict Arnold in the early stages of the Revolutionary War and shed light on the complexities of a man who has become synonymous with betrayal.

Wednesday, 28 January, 6 to 7:30 P.M.
In the Shadow of the Declaration: Boston’s Hidden Architects of American Freedom
Register here

Explore how the Declaration of Independence reshaped Boston by examining the experiences of communities often excluded from its promises. Look at how Black Bostonians organized and petitioned for freedom while women questioned their exclusion from political and social rights. Together, these perspectives reveal how independence sparked debates over who truly benefited from the Revolution, showing 1776 Boston as a place where the ideals of freedom were contested, expanded, and reimagined.

Wednesday, 25 February, 6 to 7:30 P.M.
“Donation People”: Refugees from the Siege of Boston
Register here

The talk will examine the experience of the poor and ill forced out of Boston during the 1775-1776 siege. The refugees, known as donation people, bore the brunt of the American Revolutionary war in Boston, yet their treatment by the people of Massachusetts represented a spirit of welfare in the new nation.

Wednesday, 11 March, 6 to 7:30 P.M.
The Siege of Boston: An Ending and Beginning
Register here

This talk will explore the Siege of Boston – its origins, impacts, and conclusion – and how the departure of the British Military from Boston would influence the pivotal year of 1776 and what became the Revolutionary War.

Wednesday, 25 March, 6 to 7:30 P.M.
Remembering Revolution: Protest and Celebration of the Bicentennial
Register here

This talk will explore how the Bicentennial was celebrated in Boston. Learn how through protest, reenactments, and celebrations, Bostonians claimed the legacy of the Revolution for themselves 50 years ago.

In addition, the central library’s exhibit “Revolution!: 250 Years of Art & Activism in Boston” is open to all in-person visitors through 21 April. “Featuring over 100 artworks and documentary materials from the Boston Public Library’s Special Collections…this exhibition brings to light both familiar and lesser-known stories about America’s ongoing struggle for freedom, civil rights, and belonging for all.”

On the Trail of Capt. William Browne

In the HUB History podcast episode “Drinker, Draftsman, Soldier, Spy,” Jake Sconyers quotes my remark on how difficult it is to track Capt. William Browne of the 52nd Regiment before 1775 because there were so many men named William Brown(e).

He also quoted a portion of Ens. Henry DeBerniere’s report on his spy missions with Capt. Browne that I’d read many times but hadn’t tumbled to how it’s helpful with that precise challenge.

One of my favorite moments in that narrative is when Browne, DeBerniere, and their manservant have reached Jonathan Brewer’s tavern in Waltham.

a little out of this town [Watertown] we went into a tavern, a Mr. Brewer’s, a whig, we called for dinner, which was brought in by a black woman, at first she was very civil, but afterwards began to eye us very attentively; she then went out and a little after returned, when we observed to her that it was a very fine country, upon which she answered so it is, and we have got brave fellows to defend it, and if you go up any higher you find it so,—

This disconcerted us a good deal, and we imagined she knew us from our papers which we took out before her, as the General had told us to pass for surveyors; however, we resolved not to sleep there that night, as we had intended, accordingly we paid our bill which amounted to two pounds odd shillings, but in [sic] was old tenor.

After we had left the house we enquired of John, our servant, what she had said, he told us that she knew Capt. Brown very well, that she had seen him five years before at Boston, and knew him to be an officer, and that she was sure I was one also, and told John that he was a regular—he denied it; but she said she knew our errant was to take a plan of the country; that she had seen the river and road through Charlestown on the paper; she also advised him to tell us not to go any higher, for if we did we should meet with very bad usage

That waitress didn’t just recognize Brown—she recognized him from “five years before at Boston.” That was in 1770, and there were only two British army regiments in Boston then: the 29th and the 14th. That narrows the field considerably.

Sure enough, the officers of the 14th included Lt. William Browne. On 12 July 1771, the War Office announced that “Lieut. William Brown, of the 14th regiment of Foot,” had purchased the rank of captain in the 52nd in the place of Archibald Williams. In the 14th, Ens. William Napier moved up to lieutenant’s rank.

One implication of that fact is that Gen. Thomas Gage might have chosen Capt. Browne to scout the countryside in 1775 because that officer was more familiar with Massachusetts than most of his colleagues, having spent about two years in Boston and on Castle Island back in 1768–1770.

Of course, that had the drawback of more people in Massachusetts being familiar with Browne, as the woman in Waltham showed.

For earlier information on Lt. Browne I hunted down the Army List for 1767. And I found this list of lieutenants in the 14th Regiment of Foot:

Goddammit!

Two men named William Browne became lieutenants in the 14th Regiment four days apart in June 1766. One of them had joined the army in 1762, the other at some unknown time. They were both still lieutenants in the 14th at the start of 1771. 

And during the same period when one or both of these lieutenants were serving in Boston:

• William Browne of Salem was moving up in the imperial bureaucracy.
• William Burnet Brown of Salem supported John Robinson in his fight with James Otis, Jr.
• William Brown the weaver sued the army for trying to kick his family out of the Manufactory building.

And there were probably others.

TOMORROW: Capt. Browne’s own voice?

Two Talks on Thursday, 16 Oct.

It used to be that when two historical organizations scheduled talks on the same night you had to choose between them.

Now, thanks to live-streaming, it’s may be possible to catch both events and not even leave the house to watch them.

Here are two interesting talks scheduled for this upcoming Thursday.

Thursday, 16 October, 6 P.M.
“Within the compass of good citizens”: Paul Revere’s Masonic Journey
Steven C. Bullock
Scottish Rite Masonic Museum, Lexington

From the son of an immigrant to speaking beside the governor on Beacon Hill, Paul Revere traveled far in his extraordinary life. His membership in the Freemasons played an important role in that journey. This talk will consider how the fraternal order fit into Revere’s life—and into the development of Boston and the new nation of which they were a part.

Bullock is a Professor of History at Worcester Polytechnic Institute and author of Revolutionary Brotherhood: Freemasonry and the Transformation of the American Social Order, 1730–1840. This lecture is produced in partnership with the Paul Revere House. It will take place in person at the museum and be livestreamed on YouTube by LexMedia.

Thursday, 16 October, 7 P.M.
I Am So Tired of Waiting, Aren’t You?: Revisiting Black Majority
Peter H. Wood
American Antiquarian Society, Worcester

Black Majority: Race, Rice, and Rebellion in South Carolina, 1670-1740, first published in 1974, marked a breakthrough in understanding of early American history. This landmark book chronicles the crucial formative years of North America’s wealthiest and most tormented British colony. It explores how West African familiarity with rice determined the Lowcountry economy and how a skilled but enslaved labor force formed its own distinctive language and culture.

In this annual Robert C. Baron Lecture, an A.A.S. member who has written a seminal work of history reflects on its impact since publication. The series was endowed to honor Robert C. Baron, founder of Fulcrum Publishing and chairman of the A.A.S. council for a decade. Wood will speak in person at the A.A.S., and people can register to watch online.

A Last Word on Boston’s Sedan Chairs

Originally I flagged Alun Withey’s blog post about sedan chairs in Britain just because I thought it had interesting details about daily life in the eighteenth century.

But then I got interested in the question of whether those details also applied in Boston.

Looking for sedan chairs locally led me into the smallpox epidemic of 1764, and thus to the name “Williston” appearing over and over in the selectmen’s records. So I had to figure out who Thomas Williston was.

So, having spent nearly a week on what I’d thought was a one-day topic, I’m coming back around to complete this sedan chair trip with some familiar names.

In 1769 the smallpox virus flared up again in Boston, though not nearly as badly as five years before. On 21 June the selectmen’s minutes reported:

Mr. Thomas Cunningham living near Dr. [Jonathan] Mountforts gives information to the Selectmen, that one Joseph Hading who came to his House on Satturday last, from a Vessel which then arrived here from Philadelphia is suspected of having the Small Pox broke out upon him.

Dr. [Joseph] Warren was in consequence of the above information sent to the said Cunninghams house to examine into the same, who having done it, makes Report that the Person has got the Small Pox.

Whereupon the Sedan was sent to carry him to the Hospital at New Boston.

“Mountforts Corner” was the site of a well-known apothecary shop in the North End. The Jonathan Mountfort running it in 1769 was a son of the man with the same name who’d set it up. When he died in 1781, the business passed to his own son, also named Jonathan (born in 1746 and painted as a kid by the young John Singleton Copley, as shown above courtesy of the Detroit Institute of Arts). That third Jonathan Mountfort died only four years later, but the name survived for at least another decade.

In late July 1769 the selectmen sent the town sedan chair to carry more smallpox victims to the province hospital: “Mr. Jabez Searl,” “a Child a Daughter of Abijah Lewis,” and “Capt. Timothy Parker…between the Hours of Two & Three OClock in the morning.” (Others, such as “a Negro Woman Servant to Mr. William Wingfield,” were simply ordered to be removed to the hospital, and it’s not clear how that happened.)

These people were surprised to be catching smallpox. They must not have volunteered to be inoculated with what doctors believed was a mild strain. Health statistics stretching back decades showed that contracting the disease “in the natural way” was more deadly than being inoculated. And indeed, by 9 August, Searl and Parker had both died.

A few months later, the army drummer Thomas Walker was carried to the hospital in what he called “the Machine for the Conveniency of Removing the Sick.” He didn’t have the smallpox; instead, he’d been injured in the fight between soldiers and ropemakers on 2 Mar 1770. I wonder if that “Machine” was the town sedan chair or if the army had its own equipment.

My next milestone in the story of sedan chairs in Boston comes in 1799. In that year the town established its first board of health. Paul Revere was board president, the silversmith’s highest civic office. On 8 Apr 1800, the selectmen’s records say: “On application from the Board of Health, order’d that the Sedan Chairs belonging to the Town be delivered to them for their use”.

Thus, in eighteenth-century Boston, sedan chairs were ambulances. We can find a few individual sedan owners in the records, but they appear to have been in poor health. The appearance of a sedan chair on your street signified not luxury but illness.

New Research on the Vassall Mansion in Cambridge

The Longfellow House–Washington’s Headquarters National Historic Site is unveiling a special history study researched over many years and in multiple countries. It adds tremendous detail to a dimension of that Cambridge mansion that people have long known about more generally.

That mansion in Cambridge was built in 1759 for John Vassall, heir to wealthy slave-labor plantations on Jamaica. It was not only erected with the profits of slavery, but it was staffed by enslaved workers for two decades.

While John Vassall took his family to England in the first year of the Revolutionary War, at least one family he had enslaved, led by Tony and Cuba Vassall, stayed behind to gain their freedom and found an African-American community nearby.

Black History at the Vassall Estate by Caitlin DeAngelis, Carla D. Martin, Rayshauna C. Gray, Aabid Allibhai, and Eshe Sherley digs into that story from every possible angle, using archives in the U.S. of A., Jamaica, Antigua, and Britain. The story it tells extends from the origins of the (white) Vassall family fortune through the political activity of the (black) Vassall family in the ante-bellum republic.

Two events in the next month will illuminate those findings for the public.

Thursday, 25 September, 6 to 7 P.M.
Black History at the Vassall Estate
Caitlin DeAngelis, Carla Martin, Rayshauna Gray, Aabid Allibhai, and Eshe Sherley
Online, free with registration

A new landmark study documents and analyzes the Black experience at 105 Brattle Street and in the wider Cambridge community from the mid-1700s to the mid-1800s. The authors will introduce the project, share key findings, and take you behind the scenes of their research and writing process.

This study is remarkable not only for the history it documents—much of it appearing in print for the first time—but also for the breadth of research behind it. In partnership with lineal descendants of the Black Vassalls, the authors consulted sources spanning New England, the United Kingdom, and the Caribbean over the course of more than three years. Research of this scale is rare, and even more rarely presented in a format accessible to all readers.

Everyone who registers for that event will receive a digital copy of the study, which is also available for downloading here.

Sunday, 12 October, 1 to 3 P.M.
In Search of Darby Vassall: Tour of Cambridge & Beyond
Denise Washington and Joel Mackall
Free with registration

Starting at Longfellow House–Washington’s Headquarters, travel by trolley in greater Cambridge between seven stops with a Vassall descendant and an educator. Each stop reflects a key location in the life of Darby Vassall (1769-1861), a lifelong community activist who endured slavery and seized freedom with his family in Revolutionary Cambridge. Early dinner provided after the tour.

Colonel Louis, Caesar Marion, and More

Here are a couple of new online resources exploring aspects of the first months of the Revolutionary War in New England.

The Longfellow House–Washington’s Headquarters National Historic Site has posted Dr. Benjamin Pokross’s article “General Washington in the Native Northeast.” It begins:

It had been ten days since the Caughnawaga Mohawk men had arrived at the camp in Cambridge with their wives and families, and George Washington was still not sure what he was going to do. This was the second time that one of their leaders, Atiatoharongwen (also known as Col. Louis Cook), had come to Cambridge, and he had again made it known that he could raise four or five hundred men to fight for the colonists if he was given a commission in the Continental Army. But Washington was unsure how he would pay for all these additional soldiers if Atiatoharongwen did what he said, and even more apprehensive about the idea of engaging Indigenous allies at all. At least it had stopped snowing on the clear, cold, morning of January 31, 1776; this was the day Washington had promised to meet the Mohawk delegation outside.

Washington’s “Out-Door’s Talk”, as he called the subsequent conversation in a letter to General Phillip Schuyler, would be the most extensive of several interactions with Indigenous people he had had while he lived in the Vassall House. These visits did not result in decisive alliances or enduring treaties. They matter, however, for two reasons. The first is that they emphasize how the Revolution—normally thought of as a conflict between American colonists and the British—occurred on Native land, in areas that had long been stewarded by Indigenous communities and where Native people continued to find ways to survive in spite of colonial upheaval. Secondly, these visits highlight the unsettled and transitional character of the very early days of the Revolution. For both Washington and the Native diplomats who came to visit him, this was a moment of experimentation, of exploring what a possible relationship between the Continental Army and Indigenous Nations could look like.

At the HUB History podcast, Jake Sconyers shared an episode on “The Well Known Caesar Marion.”

In this somewhat brief episode, we’re going to look at why Mr. Marion was thrown into Boston’s notorious jail 250 years ago this week, and then we’ll compare his treatment inside British-occupied Boston with the experience of Black volunteers in the Continental Army outside Boston, once Virginia enslaver George Washington took command.

Both Pokross and Sconyers explore moments when Washington was pushed out of his comfort zone by encounters with men of color. And in both cases, while he never stopped being a planter with aristocratic ambitions, Washington was able to shift his habits and show respect for allies.

(Hearing the podcast also reminded me that I broke off a short series about Marion, promising more was “COMING UP,” nine years ago. I won’t get back to that story this week, but it’s back on my to-do list.)

“A beautiful tribute to so many American heroes”

After the White House issued its letter illegally demanding control over the Smithsonian Institution, Donald Trump weighed in through his preferred method of communication: a rant on his Truth Social microblogging network.

As usual, Trump’s presentation of the situation was more bombastic and expansive than actual policy, or actual facts:

The Museums throughout Washington, but all over the Country are, essentially, the last remaining segment of “WOKE.” The Smithsonian is OUT OF CONTROL, where everything discussed is how horrible our Country is, how bad Slavery was, and how unaccomplished the downtrodden have been — Nothing about Success, nothing about Brightness, nothing about the Future. We are not going to allow this to happen, and I have instructed my attorneys to go through the Museums, and start the exact same process that has been done with Colleges and Universities where tremendous progress has been made. This Country cannot be WOKE, because WOKE IS BROKE. We have the "HOTTEST" Country in the World, and we want people to talk about it, including in our Museums.

This produced a lot of responses, many pointing out how the complaint about museums portraying “how bad Slavery was” matches the Trump administration’s moves to honor Confederates, remove African-Americans from positions of authority, and roll back programs to remedy the effects of historic racism.

Others noted the ridiculousness of complaining that history museums should be more focused on “the Future” and less on the past.

Politifact rated Trump’s claim that the Smithsonian Institution museums include “nothing about success, nothing about brightness, nothing about the future” [capitalization corrected] as “Pants on Fire.” Its analysis said in part:

A walk through the [African-American history] museum’s six levels reveals its overwhelming focus on Black Americans’ resilience, strength and success. . . .

Smithsonian museums are also chock full of patriotic items and exhibits celebrating American culture. . . .

As for "brightness," it’s hard to ignore the nonpartisan pop culture icons at the American history museum, from Kermit the Frog to "Star Wars" droids and basketball legend Michael Jordan.

Author Jonathan M. Katz wrote on Bluesky:

The funny thing about this is that the Smithsonian African American History Museum is built around the exact "Success" narrative Trump claims to want. You climb through the Middle Passage, slave cabin, Jim Crow train, etc, and come out into Oprah's studio and Obama.

But we have to wonder if success for African-Americans counts as success for Trump.

The Civil War historian Kevin M. Levin offered further analysis on Substack:

The Smithsonian and National Park Service are not leaders in the direction of historical interpretation and trends in public history. They largely reflect changes that have already taken place. More broadly, these institutions reflect cultural and societal shifts that have already been established.

Another way to make this point is to say that if you are a young activist, committed to instilling Americans with radical leftist ideas, the last place you will want to work is at the Smithsonian or National Park Service. Such a career move promises a lifetime of disappointment and frustration.

Levin also noted that Trump visited the National African American History Museum around the time he first entered public office in 2017 and came out saying, “This museum is a beautiful tribute to so many American heroes.”

According to a Washington Post article from 2019, based on Smithsonian director Lonnie Bunch’s memoir, that visit was more fraught behind the scenes.

The incoming president wanted to come on the holiday commemorating the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., according to the memoir. The administration also asked that the museum be closed to the public during the visit. “The notion that we could shut out visitors on the first King holiday since the opening of the museum was not something I could accept,” Bunch writes. Another day was chosen. . . .

Before the president-elect arrived, his aides told Bunch that Trump “was in a foul mood and that he did not want to see anything ‘difficult,’ ” Bunch writes. Nevertheless, Bunch started the tour in the history galleries, which begin with the global slave trade.

“It was not my job to make the rough edges of history smooth, even for the president,” he writes. . . .

“The president paused in front of the exhibit that discussed the role of the Dutch in the slave trade,” Bunch writes. “As he pondered the label I felt that maybe he was paying attention to the work of the museum. He quickly proved me wrong. As he turned from the display he said to me, ‘You know, they love me in the Netherlands.’ All I could say was let’s continue walking.”

“There is little I remember about the rest of the hour we spent together. I was so disappointed in his response to one of the greatest crimes against humanity in history,” he continues. “Here was a chance to broaden the views and the understanding of the incoming president and I had been less successful than I had expected.”

It looks like Trump now has no memory of that visit.

Also, for the record, the Dutch, like most people around the world, had a negative view of Donald Trump. In 2017 the Pew Research Group reported that Dutch confidence that the U.S. President would do the right thing had gone down 75 percentile points in the shift from Barack Obama (92%) to Trump (17%). As of June 2025, the same global survey reported that 63% of the people in the Netherlands have no confidence at all that Trump will do the right thing as President.

Call for Papers on “Freedom, Slavery, and Race in the American Revolution”

The Sons of the American Revolution is sponsoring a scholarly conference at Wake Forest University in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, on 29–31 May 2026 on the topic “Freedom, Slavery, and Race in the American Revolution.”

Here’s the call for papers:

The conference will examine the experiences of African American people and the ideologies of freedom, slavery, and race in the War for American Independence and the founding of the United States.

In his 1776 essay Liberty Further Extended, Lemuel Haynes denied that “Liberty is so contracted a principle as to be Confin’d to any nation under Heaven; nay, I think it not hyperbolical to affirm, that Even an African, has Equally as good a right to his Liberty in common with Englishmen.” This Black patriot and soldier connected freedom, citizenship, and nation. How actors in the American Revolution experienced, articulated, or contested these ideas is the question that drives this conference.

The conference intends to examine perspectives from Black and White men and women aligned with the Patriots or Loyalists. We also invite comparisons between the young United States and the broader revolutionary Atlantic World.

The S.A.R. invites proposals based on new research from graduate students, established scholars, and public history practitioners. Proposals should include a 250-word abstract introducing the author’s research and how their topic advances the field, and a two-page vita.

Submit proposals by October 1, 2025, to John Ruddiman, Department of History, Wake Forest University at Ruddimja@wfu.edu with the subject line “2026 SAR Conference.” Acceptances will be sent by early December 2025.

The S.A.R. anticipates publication of the accepted, revised papers in an edited volume. To facilitate that, participants will submit their papers (approximately 5,000–6,000 words) for pre-circulation by May 1, 2026.

The society will offer cover presenters’ travel and lodging expenses and pay each a $500 honorarium.

Anishanslin on The Painter’s Fire in Boston, 23 June

On Wednesday, 23 June, Zara Anishanslin will speak at the Massachusetts Historical Society on her new book, The Painter’s Fire: A Forgotten History of the Artists Who Championed the American Revolution.

Zara Anishanslin is a professor at the University of Delaware. Her last book was Portrait of a Woman in Silk: Hidden Histories of the British Atlantic World, winner of The Library Company of Philadelphia’s first Biennial Book Prize.

I got to hear Prof. Anishanslin speak about The Painter’s Fire at the Dublin Seminar for New England Folklife last month. Previous studies of American-born painters in the Revolutionary world have focused on men like John Singleton Copley, Benjamin West, and Ralph Earl—all important artists but also Loyalist in that conflict.

In contrast, Anishanslin looks at three artists who actively supported the new American republic in one way or another: Robert Edge Pine, Prince Demah, and Patience Wright. Pine was a British native, Demah was born enslaved, and Wright was a woman working in wax rather than portraiture, so their lives expand the traditional scope of artists’ studies in other ways as well. Their careers also intersected in interesting ways.

When I first wrote about Prince Demah back in 2006, all that I knew was his first name, that he was enslaved to Christian Barnes in Marlborough, and that she wanted to get him some training as a painter. Research by Paula Bagger and others revealed Demah’s transatlantic career, service in the Continental Army, and more. It’s exciting to see those facts come into the light.

The talk is the society’s Annual Jack Grinold Lecture in American Art and Architecture. It will begin with a reception for in-person attendees at 5:30 P.M. Prof. Anishanslin’s talk (and the online stream) will begin at 6:00. The event is free to society members and online attendees, $10 for others. Register here.