Tag Archives: Anniversary History

Naval History is so Competitive

On either side of Salem, Beverly and Marblehead have a longstanding rivalry as to which is the birthplace of the U.S. Navy: the Hannah, owned by John Glover of Marblehead and the first ship to be commissioned for warfare by General George Washington, set sail from Beverly in September of 1775 with a Marblehead crew and munitions. Other places sustain that claim as well, including Whitehall, New York (where the continentals captured a British schooner and renamed her Liberty in the spring of 1775 and Benedict Arnold’s Quebec flotilla was built in the following year), Providence (or East Greenwich, where the Rhode Island passed a resolution to arm vessels in June of 1775), and Philadelphia (where the Continental Congress authorized the creation of a naval force on October 13, 1775), but these claims are of little concern to Massachusetts people. A century ago, Marblehead (seemingly unchallenged by Beverly at that time) was planning its big naval birthplace celebration when Salem historian Sidney Perley dropped a bombshell: it was Salem that was actually the birthplace of the navy with its commission of an armed vessel way back in the seventeenth century! And then all bets were off and other claimants quickly came forward: Kingston, New Bedford, Dartmouth and Somerville, Massachusetts and Machias, Maine. Somerville?

An exciting contest in the early summer of 1926! Sidney Perley was on fire at this time. He had just been through a protracted dispute over the date of the founding of Salem with the still-powerful Endicott family, who preferred 1628 when their ancestor came over. Stalwart Sidney stuck to 1626 when Roger Conant setted in what would become Salem, and resigned from the Essex Institute, then very much Salem’s pedigreed historical society, when he did not receive affirmation. Nevertheless he was slated to become the most-favored speaker of the Tercentenary celebrations that summer. I have enormous respect for him as a historian, but I suspect he was just stirring the pot with this navy assertion. His claim was based on a singular reference to a “man o’war ketch” in 1679, when the selectman of Salem reimbursed William Browne for its use. Ketches were popular vessels in Salem in the seventeenth century, used primarily for fishing, and they were small; it’s difficult to think of them as military ships. The early modernist in me has a vague recollection of the “bomb ketches” used by the French and then the English for coastal bombardment in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, but I don’t think that’s what we have here. A “man o’war ketch” does sound interesting though.

The Adventure (2008), a replica 17th century ketch moored at Charles Towne Landing in South Carolina.

The other claims seem more substantive than that of Salem. The Massachusetts state brigantine Independence was built in 1776 at Kingston’s Jones River Landing boatyard, one of the oldest in the country. Somerville went back even earlier than Salem: its claim was based on the Blessing of the Bay, “half-trader and half-fighter” and the first ship built in Massachusetts, which was launched on the Mystic River (some say at Medford, but I’m not getting into that rivalry) in the summer of 1631. The Battle of (or off) Fairhaven in May of 1775 is the basis of New Bedford’s and Dartmouth’s claims, although this brief battle is often consigned to the level of skirmish, giving the title of “First Naval Battle of the Revolution” to that of Machias, on June 11-12, 1775. So these are the rival claims, all of which Marblehead dismissed rather flippantly, especially that of Salem. Marblehead’s very public invitation to its naval anniversary celebrations dissed Salem several times: Like Boston, Marblehead, the second port of importance, was guarded by British warships, and so Gen Glover had the Hannah taken to his storehouses and wharf in Beverly, where quietly they worked and fitter her out, the first warship of the United States Government. But since Salem is going her own way and not sure of her own birthday, we of Marblehead have no hard feelings or malice in our hearts, but extend a cordial welcome to come to Marblehead and join with us in the celebration of the birth of the US Navy and we of Marblehead extend to that fine old city of Salem a most sincere with in the celebration commemorating the tercentenary.

The Schooner Hannah by John F. Leavitt, Naval Heritage and Command

By all accounts, Marblehead had a very successful 150th anniversary of the Navy celebration and Salem an even more robust Tercentenary in the summer of 1926 but that is not the end of the story. Less than a decade later, Beverly put forward its claim very assertively, and that claim is still standing! Not my story, so I’ll leave it at that. I think that Governor Maura Healey and Lieutenant Governor Kim Driscoll are quite wise to simply celebrate the Massachusetts origins of the Navy whenever the occasion calls for that salute.


Knox Sunday

I know, there was a big football game yesterday, and I watched half of it at an actual party at night but the day was reserved for Col. Henry Knox. I’ve been watching online as commemorations of Knox’s Noble Train of Artillery moved across large swaths of New York and Massachusetts on its way to relieve the besieged citizens of Boston but had not made it to one live event—and Evacuation Day (better known as St. Patrick’s Day to those of you not in Massachusetts) is only a little over a month away. So I decided to drive out to Framingham to see some cannons and Patriots before the other Patriots took the field. The event was a bit more talk than action, as I listened to organizers and politicians and community leaders express their joy at being part of the festivities. Quite a few speeches, but earnest expressions all and it was nice to see such a large community gathering.

Scenes of the day; Revolution 250 Chair Professor Robert Allison and the official Trail.

Knox Trail 250 is an initiative of Revolution 250, which bears the motto: Your Town, Your History, Our Nation so the commemorative events of the past few years have always been community-based in terms of organization and participation. This particular event was a Middlesex County affair, with representatives from all the towns surrounding Framingham (Marlborough, Southborough, Wayland ) present. Besides community (then and now), there was also a notable emphasis on the two most heralded African American soldiers of the Revolution from Massachusetts: Salem Poor and Peter Salem. The former was representated by a reenactor (below) who sounded more like an actor as he recounted his life and service, while we saw Peter Salem’s name on a 1775 roster of Framingham Minutemen. (Why the two Salem names? The answer seems somewhat shrouded still, but the general concensus seems to be that Poor’s name, which occasionally appeared as “Salam” might have an Islamic connection or represent a form of salaam, the word for peace in Arabic, while Peter’s name designated the town of one of his enslavers.) I spent a long time looking at the roster.

I’ve been fascinated by Henry Knox’s story for a long time. It seems so sweeping and dramatic, like many Revolutionary personal narratives. Young Boston bookseller becomes inflamed with the cause, marries the daughter of prominent Loyalists who promptly disown her, sets out to liberate Boston by transporting 59 cannons from Fort Ticonderoga in the dead of winter, mounts said cannons on Dorchester Heights and drives the British away after the long siege, becomes Washington’s chief of artillery and later the first Secretary of War, retrieves his wife’s family’s confiscated land holdings and settles down in the midst of the Maine county that would be named for him (and then of course there’s Fort Knox too). Having physical places tied to your memory, in Knox’s case an actual trail, invites exploration.

Revolution 250 Executive Director Jonathan Lane and “Colonel Henry Knox”; a commemorative quilt sown by volunteers at the Framingham History Center; miniature of Henry Knox, Metropolitan Museum of Art.

There’s one more big Knox event if you are in the area: “To Win the Siege: the Noble Train Arrives” at the Hartwell Tavern within the Minute Man National Historic Park on February 21st.


Salem Ladies 1876

I think I’ve previewed the “anniversary year” for quite a few years on this blog in Januarys past, but this particular year is going to be so dominated by the 250th anniversary of the American Revolution (nationally) and Salem’s 400th anniversary (locally) that I decided not to. However, I don’t want to lose sight of the trees through the forest! I’ve always thought that the 1870s was an interesting decade for Salem women, and in 1876 in particular there were two women’s organizations which emerged that I think really represent the collective impact of women both within and outside their community at this time, and after. One organization, the Ladies Centennial Committee of Salem, had a very specific focus and is no longer with us, while the other, the Woman’s Friend Society, most certainly is: it is celebrating its 150th anniversary this very year. I thought I’d shine a spotlight on both. I had an opportunity to research the Ladies Centennial Committee’s efforts for my chapter on Salem and the Colonial Revival in Salem’s Centuries, and my general awareness turned to appreciation for both its organization and creative curation: its December 1875 Salem exhibition of “relics” from the past was broadcast across the nation. These objects were sent to the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia along with many other Salem exhibits from the present, and because so few other Massachusetts towns and cities followed suit Salem really dominated the entire effort from the Bay State. The Ladies of Salem followed up with a Centennial Ball at Mechanics Hall, which added to Salem’s Centennial Fund coffers and enhanced its reputation as as steward of the Colonial past.

Centennial Commemoration in Salem: Exhibition and Ball, Mechanic Hall on Essex Street Salem and the Massachusetts Building in Philadelphia. Salem is the “Old City of Peace” and not yet Witch City.

The exhibition of antique articles was quite diverse, encompassing furniture, clothing, silver, portraits and paper from the past, but I think these women were more than casual antiquarians relying on their family and social connections for “relics” of Salem’s and America’s past. Mrs. Hagar, the committee chair, wasn’t even old-money North Shore: she was Mary Bradford McKim Hagar from New York State, the wife of Daniel Hagar, the principal of Salem Normal School. They received so much publicity, and often their Centennial efforts were paired with other pieces of “news” related to Salem women (see the first image above) which I think is really interesting. The membership of the committee included women—most prominently educator Kate Tannant Woods—who were as much or more interested in social reform as cultural curation. While she was serving on the Centennial Committee, Woods was instrumental in establishing the Moral Education Society of Salem, which eventually changed its named to the Woman’s Friend Society, after similarly-named societies in the area.

Right from its foundation, the Salem Woman’s Friend Society developed a mission that expanded far beyond the first “Needle Woman’s Friend Society” founded in Boston in 1847 “for the purpose of giving employment in needlework to poor women.” The Salem mission included a girl’s reading room, an employment bureau, and housing, after Salem’s most generous philanthropist, Captain John Bertram, offered them half of a stately Federal house on Elm Street for shelter purposes. In 1884, his daughter Jennie Emmerton, always referred to as “Salem’s richest woman” and long Salem’s largest individual taxpayer, deeded the house to the Society, which acquired the other half of the Joseph Fenno house in 1887 through private donations. There was also a focus on vocational education, but I’ll let the Society explain its expanding mission in its own words, with this great fundraising brochure from its deposited records at the Salem State Archives and Special Collections. (*note: these records are amazing! I had one student write a great paper about the employment bureau several years ago, but more studies could be sourced)

So many initiatives! Including the District (later Visiting) Nurse program, which would later be adminstered out of the House of the Seven Gables, founded by Jennie Emmerton’s daughter, Caroline Emmerton. All of this outreach was extraordinarily important in the historical context, when Salem’s immigrant population was increasing steadily and social and medical services were not yet in place. And now, more than a century later, such systems are well-established but the Woman’s Friend Society continues its important work in the housing sphere, where insufficiency prevails. This is also a Salem organization that knows and shares its history, and will be commemorating its 150th anniversary with several special events in the coming months, so watch this space.

Emmerton House/ Women’s Friend Society, 12 Elm Street, Salem, Massachusetts.


The Revolution in Color

I decided to celebrate the debut of Ken Burns’ new series on the American Revolution by getting out two old books which I always enjoy browsing through, and which I now realize were quite foundational in how I look (and I do mean look) at American history in particular and history in general. The two books are The Pictorial History of the American Revolution by Rupert Furneaux and The Colonial Spirit of ’76 by David C. Whitney, and they were both published for the Bicentennial by Ferguson Publishing of Chicago with ample illustrations, including watercolors of noted Revolutionary spaces and places by “visual artist” Kay Smith. That’s how she is always described, and she died just this year at age 102! Every time I look at her watercolor buildings, I remember when I saw them for the first time; it happened just yesterday when I took the books out. And so it has finally dawned on me that my lifelong pursuit of history through houses began with her. The two books have lots of other cool illustrations too, including prints of every single tavern along the eastern seaboard which has any sort of Revolutionary connection, but Kay provides most of the color. I don’t know about reading these books—they’re definitely rather dated and devoted to storytelling rather than multi-causal analysis, but they are fun to look at. No Salem at all, sadly: colonial capital or Leslie’s Retreat or privateers. The Pictorial History has a chronological/geographical format and the Colonial Spirit is supposed to be more of a social history, I think, but its basic structure is biographical. Here are some of my favorite illustrations—all by Kay Smith, and most of buildings, of course—from Boston to Yorktown.

Kay Smith could depict people too—-her take on Major Andre’s famous sketch of Peggy Shippen Arnold is very charming. Interesting illustrations are scattered throughout both books liberally: uniforms, of course, firearms, vignettes of “daily life,” a great presentation of a Declaration of Independence cover sheet juxtaposed with a facsmimile of Thomas Jefferson’s hand-written and -corrected copy (used by Burns at the opening of episode one of The American Revolution). These books made for just as pleasurable browsing as all those years ago. And what do we think of the latest take on the Revolution?

 


Happy Birthday Hawthorne Hotel

This week marks the 100th anniversary of the opening of the Hawthorne Hotel, which has been at the center of so much of Salem’s social and civic life for a century. One thinks of a hotel as a place for visitors, and I suppose that has been the Hawthorne’s primary function, but its hospitality has long been extended to Salem residents as well through its many public spaces and busy calendar. I really can’t think of any other space/place in Salem where residents and tourists intersect so often and so naturally, except for perhaps the adjoining Salem Common. I was thinking about my own personal connection to the Hawthorne and I came up with an impressive list: in addition to attending many events there (including weddings, political debates, annual meetings, lectures, department retreats), I met my husband there! And more recently, I attended a memorable meeting over which then Attorney General (now Governor) Maura Healey presided, with then Mayor (now Lieutenant Governor) Kim Driscoll seated on her left, in which the fateful location of Salem’s archives was discussed. I could go on and on: I’m sure every Salem resident has their own Hawthorne Hotel list. The connection between Salem people and the Hawthorne has been strong from the beginning, as the Hotel was a Chamber of Commerce initiative with subscribed funding by more than 1000 residents, who turned out in force for its opening on July 23, 1925. For the 100th anniversary on this coming Wednesday, the Hotel is asking for public participation yet again: to recreate this first photo for 2025. I’m so happy about this idea, a rare example of Salem’s history actually being made public.

First photograph: Henry Theriault Collection, Salem State University Archives and Special Collections, Salem, Massachusetts; 2nd and 3rd, Nelson Dionne Salem History Collection, SSU Archives and Special Collections. SSU Archives and Special Collections maintains a Flickr album of Hawthorne Hotel images.

The Hotel got a HUGE response upon its opening. Headlines in all the local papers, including the society rag The North Shore Breeze which praised its Colonial decor and its multitudes of bathrooms and public spaces. The Breeze had a very elite “Gold Coast” perspective, so Salem only pops up in advertising for its many shops generally, but in the late July 1925 issue there was even a poem (or “picture-dream”) inspired by the Hawthorne!  A few years later, Architectural Forum published a portfolio on the hotel, formally credited to the architectural firm of “Smith & Walker and H.L. Stevens and Co., Associates” but widely acknowledged to be the work of Philip Horton Smith, who was putting his Colonial Revival stamp all over Salem in the 1920s. Of course the Salem Marine Society “club cabin” installed on the hotel’s top floor received rave reviews everywhere. The historical context is important for both the creation and reception of the new hotel: this was a decade after the Great Salem Fire, and the year before Salem’s much-anticipated tercentenary: the new hotel seemed to signal the message we’re back and we want you to come celebrate with us.

July 21-24, 1925 headlines in the Boston Glove and Lynn Daily Item; Flag-raising photo from the Hawthorne Hotel Collection at the SSU Archives and Special Collections & poem from North Shore Breeze, July 1925; Architectural Forum, December 1929.

In terms of marketing, the Hawthorne emphasized COLONIAL above all until the late twentieth century, but it’s interesting to survey other advertising adjectives. There was definitely an early emphasis on fire safety, given the experience and impact of the Fire. To be fireproof, a structure had to be modern, so the Hawthorne was deemed modern and colonial at the same time: one advertisement labeled it “the most modern hotel between Boston and Portland.” Even in its opening decade, the Hotel was appealing to motorists more so than train passengers, and it emphasized its “ample parking.” It was comfortable, convenient, and a the “centre of historic interest and famous traditions.” While there was a general colonial aura to its exteriors and interiors for decades after its opening, the Hawthorne clearly associated that word with Salem’s golden era of overseas trade, and it emphasized that connection in multiple ways, from the names of its public spaces (the “Main Brace” bar, the “Calico Tea House” restaurant, and the Zanzibar grillroom) to the “historicards” it sold in its lobby, created by Johnny Tremain author Viginia Grilley. I love these old menus—they are almost like reference works!

There is a marked subtlety in references to the Witch Trials in contrast to other Salem institutions, but that changes a bit after Bewitched came to town in 1970, which you can easily understand, as Samantha and Darren Stephens stayed at the Hawthorne, or the Hawthorne Motor Hotel, as it was called at the time. There are periodic name changes: I think the progression is Hotel Hawthorne, the Hawthorne, Hawthorne Motor Inn, Hawthorne Inn, Hawthorne Hotel, but I could be wrong. Like any professional and profitable hostelry, the Hawthorne has to welcome everyone, and so it seems that witches have overtaken mariners over these past few decades. The weddings, annual meetings, and convention continue, however, as does the hotel’s seemingly timeless appeal, enhanced by advantageous associations (particularly the Historic Hotels of America registry), interior updates, clever marketing, and that still-strong public connection. I dipped into one of the hospitality and tourism databases available to me at Salem State and found Hawthorne references to its impressive visitor stats, its haunted character (I’m not going there), its generous pet policy, and its rooftop ship’s cabin. The more things change the more things remain the same, and Salem’s now-venerable hotel seems poised for another busy century.

The Hawthorne from the 1920s through the 1990s: all images from the Hawthorne Hotel Collection at SSU Archives except for the 1930s (Visitor’s Guide to Salem, 1937) and 1950s (Phillips Library); a feature on the Salem Marine Society’s recreated ship’s cabin on the top floor of the Hawthorne in Yankee Magazine, 2015 (photo by Carl Tremblay); the Hotel’s 60th Anniversary celebration in 1985.

Hawthorne Hotel Birthday Block Party on July 23, 5:30-7:30: https://www.hawthornehotel.com/event/hawthorne-hotels-100th-anniversary-celebration/


April 19, 2025

So I made it to Lexington, Concord and Arlington for the big 250th commemorations on this past Saturday, although I missed the actual reenactments. I knew I would never get to Lexington at the crack of dawn, but I did have some hopes for Concord. Logistics (parking and road closures) dictated that I couldn’t get close until later, but I did find myself right in the midst of a festive parade! All in all, it was a really fun day, unseasonably warm, with engaged and happy people everywhere I went. I probably could have planned it better: the local news emphasized the size of the expected crowds and the fact that there would be NO parking on the streets of either Concord or Lexington, but I didn’t really listen. I thought I could sneak in on a back road and park whenever I pleased! NO WAY. I’ve never seen such parking enforcement in my life! If Salem really took its Halloween parking prohibitions seriously (which I do not really think it does), Concord and Lexington could offer a lesson or two. Anyway, I found parking so far outside Concord I basically followed the Acton Minutemen’s route into Concord on April 19, 1775, with the markers to prove it! And by the time I got to the North Bridge I was appropriately weary, and right on time for the big parade. The procession had everything and everyone: reenactors of different eras, marines, the Army Corps of Engineers, several fife and drum corps, the University of Massachusetts marching band, the Concord High School marching band, patriots on stilts, bagpipers, boy scouts, members of what seemed like every single Concord civic association, gardeners, “Concord Cousins” from Concords across America, and local militias from the surrounding towns. The crowd was HUGE on both sides of the bridge and the Charles River, and there were lots (but I didn’t think too many) of political signs as well, many in support of the National Park Service whose rangers were clearly working hard on this day.

On to Lexington where I had a friend’s driveway for parking but the closed roads made it difficult to get there! Again, poor planning on my part. Huge crowds here as well, lining up on Massachusetts Avenue for their big parade. Since I had already experienced one perfect parade, I decided to make my way to the Jacob Russell house in Arlington, which saw the bloodiest fighting of April 19, 1775 in which the one Salem participant, Benjamin Peirce, died. The house was open for tours and it was quite poignant to be inside, but for some weird reason all of my interior shots turned out dark and misty (maybe appropriately so). The desperate retreating British troops had war fever by this time of the day, and when Mrs. Russell returned home afterwards she found not only her husband dead but also eleven militiamen laid out in her kitchen, where the floor was “ankle deep” in blood.

A few scenes in Lexington and the Jason Russell house, with a bicentennial painting by Ruth Linnell Berry from the Arlington Historical Society. Mandy Warhol’s graphic images of Lexington (and Concord) Minutemen made perfect banners for the day and for this Patriots Day  (and longer, I hope).


Headline History

I went up to the Phillips Library in Rowley to look through some scrapbooks memorializing the Salem Tercentenary of 1926 late last week and found myself enchanted by the presentation and curation of one particular album put together by a certain Frank Reynolds. There were two big scrapbooks actually, and while I was expecting photographs (I guess that would be an album, rather than a scrapbook), there were only newspaper articles pasted in in a meticulous and chronological manner with attached white labels. At first I was disappointed, but then I went with it, and found the juxtaposition of the headlines really interesting. Then I came upon one particular article that really illustrated the concept of “headline history” and then I had my post.

Thus inspired, I divided my Tercentenary headlines into several categories:  1) The Big Row; 2) Getting Ready; 3) Advice to Tourists; 4) Dress Up; 5)) Crowds; 6) Presidential Address.

The Big Row was over the date of the founding of Salem, actually no, it was over what “founding” meant. Everyone knew that Roger Conant came down from Gloucester to Salem in 1626 with the “Old Planters” but William Crowninshield Endicott, Jr., the President of the Essex Institute, insisted that Conant and his colleagues were mere “fishermen and squatters” and Salem wasn’t really founded until his ancestor John Endecott arrived with the first royal charter in 1628. So Salem’s Tercentenary should be delayed for two years. The most eminent Salem historian of the time, Sidney Perley, made it clear that this was a ridiculous stance, and resigned in protest from his curatorial postition at the Essex Institute. Then Endicott resigned, and that was the situation in March of 1926, only a few months before the celebrations were to begin. I’m really not sure how it was resolved, but it took a lot of meetings and made a lot of headlines. Endicott went on to become President of the Massachusetts Historical Society, so maybe all the Boston Brahmins got together and offered him a bigger prize to back down.

Full speed ahead! We get some great headlines about getting ready. A lot of focus on cleaning Salem up. There was one big new project—a pineapple-topped bandstand on Salem Common—but much more of an emphasis on restoring and scrubbing (reports on parades later on often noted how clean Salem’s streets were). Hamilton Hall was stripped of its paint; the massive train depot was sandblasted.

There were some interesting marketing campaigns associated with the Tercententary. Every Salem store seems to have dressed up its windows with historical scenes; Parker Brothers reissued its first board game, The Mansion of Happiness. There seems to have been an outreach to Quebec, because of Salem’s large Franco-American population, but also to other areas of the country, and I think that might explain these odd witch headlines. The Salem Tourist Camp at Forest River Park seems extraordinary to me: this very same space hosted a refugee camp after the Great Salem Fire just twelve years earlier (and no, the Fire was not “kind to the city.”)

So many “antiques”! The word is used very broadly: houses, dresses, furnishings, all on display. There was a great opening of houses throughout Salem, and also a great opening of attics. While the parades presented a broad overview of Salem’s centuries, the open houses and performances were very focused on the Colonial: and its revival.

The entire July week was jam-packed: THREE parades, a big bonfire on the fourth in the Salem tradition, fireworks in the Willows along with a triple parachute jump from a hot air balloon and then an attempted quadruple jump two days later by Louise Gardner (who would fall to her death before an Atlanta crowd of 15,000 two years later), athletic competitions, lectures, a ball, all sorts of exhibitions. The Massachusetts papers covered everything in detail, as did some national papers, and there were a lot of headlines about crowds. For the Historical and Floral parade at the end of the week, the participants were estimated at 10,000 and the crowds at nearly 100,000.

By all accounts the Salem Tercentenary was a resounding success, but clearly there was a need for a presidential nod to cap it off. I had always thought that Calvin Coolidge was dissing Salem by not attending the big event as he always summered nearby, but apparently this year he was in another part of the country. So he sent Vice-President Charles Dawes, who interrupted his annual fishing trip to Maine. The Vice-President reviewed the first tercentenary parade, and gave a speech on how the radio could safeguard the constitution from rampant populism. But even that sounds better than President Coolidge’s note, below. So enthusiastic: “even if Salem ships no longer circle the world and the life of the community goes on in less picturesque and spectacular channels” Salem still has its history! You’d think Silent Cal would have congratulated the city on putting on such a big party, but no. The President does make the point that anniversary of the Declaration of Independence was being celebrated in the Salem year as Salem’s 300th and this year we have another concurrence with the 250th anniversary of the beginning of the American Revolution. From what I’ve seen so far, I think Revolution 250 is going to leave Salem 400+ in the dust, but we shall see.

Tercentenary font? Quincy is up this year: you can check out their schedule here.


2025: the Anniversary Year

I like to look ahead to the coming historical anniversaries at the beginning of every year, and in 2025 it’s pretty clear that two wars are going to dominate the commemoration calendar: the beginning of the American Revolution and the end of World War II. The Fall of Saigon occurred in 1975, so you could add a third. Here in Massachusetts, we’ve been gearing up for revolutionary remembrance for quite some time, under the aegis of a coalition called Revolution 250. Even the City of Salem, pretty passive when it comes to matters of heritage and seemingly oblivious to our City’s key pre-revolutionary and revolutionary roles, is getting in on the action by jumping on board the 250th anniversary of “Leslie’s Retreat” in late February. A Revolution Ball at Hamilton Hall—the successor to the pre-Covid Resistance Ball— will also be held in the midst of a very busy commemorative weekend in Salem. The commemorations of the battles of Lexington and Concord in April and Bunker Hill in June promise to be huge, even though the latter will be “fought” in Gloucester rather than Charlestown. Then the focus will shift to Cambridge, where Washington formed the Continental Army: I don’t think it was quite as orderly a process as the Currier & Ives lithograph below presents!

Revolutionary remembrance in Salem and Massachusetts: a view of “Leslie’s Retreat,” when a Salem crowd and dialogue convinced British Lt. Colonel Alexander Leslie and his soldiers to retreat while cannon were carried away, 1955 Emma Crafts Earley Map Salem Massachusettes With History, Phillips Library. This event is widely heralded in Salem as the “first armed resistance by the Colonies to British Authority,” which is just not true, but I think I can accept “the first armed resistance to British in 1775.” The Revolution Ball will be held on February 22: more information here. The Battle of Lexington, Bettman Archive; “An Exact View of the Late Battle at Charlestown, June 17, 1775.” and “Washington Taking Command of the American Army,” Metropolitan Museum of Art. 

While most of the Revolutionary commemoration will likely be exuberant, remembering the end of World War II will be much more nuanced, marking victory and liberation but also loss and destruction. The 80th anniversary of VE Day (May 8) could be “a shared moment of celebration” but obviously Holocaust remembrance will be more solemn, as will the anniversaries of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. I probably shouldn’t even reference these atrocities in a post on history anniversaries as their remembrance is quite appropriately ongoing and perpetual, but the eighty-year mark is noted everywhere. A major exhibition, Portraits of the Hibakusha | 80 Years Remembered, featuring a series of 52 lenticular portraits of the survivors of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, has already opened and will travel to museums and galleries around the world. Eighty years ago this very month (on January 27), Auschwitz was liberated by soldiers of the 60th Army of the First Ukrainian Front of the Red Army: here is more information about the observances scheduled for this site on this particular International Holocaust Remembrance Day, from which Russia has been excluded for the third straight year.

It seems to me that in terms of public remembrance, we tend to remember bad things more than good, ostensibly because we do not want to repeat the bad. Ultimately (I think!) war remembrance is a hopeful process rather than a macabre one, but it is wearing and wearying. I teach a European history survey pretty much every semester and I always get wary when we approach the twentieth century, but there were two very consequential conflicts from my own period that will also be commemorated in 2025: King Philip’s War (1675-76) and the German Peasants War of 1525, both bloody conflicts between desperate insurgents and established regimes—well, perhaps the colonists of southern New England were not that established when an indigenous coalition under the leadership of Wampanoag chief Metacom, later known as King Philip, attacked English settlements over a 14-month period. Several Salem men, including Nathaniel Hawthorne’s first American ancestor William Hathorne, fought in this conflict, which left hundreds of colonists and thousands of Native Americans dead. Northeastern University Emeritus Professor of Public History Martin Blatt has called for more commemoration of King Philip’s War, but I don’t see any big event on the 2025 calendar. There is, however, some amazing scholarship on the War and its remembrance in New England over the centuries. The German Peasants’ War was the biggest uprising in Western Europe before the French Revolution, extending to much of the Holy Roman Empire. It was notable for being not just a large peasant revolt but one in which an expansive “working class” (a term we don’t usually use before the Industrial Revolution), including miners and urban workers, rose up against serfdom and its remnants, brandishing a document callled The Twelve Articles which justified their demands in scripture. It’s the first sign of the potentially radical impact of the Reformation, and Martin Luther was so horrified by the rebels’ confusion of spiritual and secular “freedom” that he called for the “murderous theiving hordes of peasants” to be cut down. And so they were.

Because of its early expression of “class consciousness,” East Germany commemorated the 45oth anniversary of the Peasants War in 1975 with this stamp and other events. For the 500th anniversary in 2025, the Thuringian state has organized a traveling exhibition.

Lightening up quite a bit. Jane Austen was born in that consequential year of 1775, and given her popularity over these past few decades, I have no doubt that the 250th anniversary of her birth will be commemorated in a big way in Britian—and no doubt elsewhere. Just a few clicks and I realized that the events that constitute Jane Austen 250 make the very busy Revolution 250 calendar look quiet! In Bath, and Winchester, and throughout Hampshire there will be festivals and costume balls and dress-up days and parades. At Jane Austen’s House in Chawton, each book will get its own festival starting with Pride and Prejudice this very month and there will be a special year-long exhibition called Austenmania. Bath has been on the Austen bandwagon for quite some time so there’s a lot going on there but in Winchester, the city where Jane spent her last years and was laid to rest, there’s a bit of a controversy about a new statue to be installed on the Cathedral grounds. There are concerns about overtourism in general and the sanctity of its proposed location in particular, with one critic opining that “I don’t think we want to turn it into Disneyland-on-Itchen. I don’t think the Inner Close is the place to attract a lot of lovely American tourists to come and have a selfie with Jane Austen.” (sounds vaguely familiar) They’ve spent quite a bit of money on the statue, so I think it’s a go, but Winchester is clearly the only place in the region where there are any clouds on the horizon: everywhere and everyone else seems geared up for an enthusiastic Austen year.


They Came Back for the Cannon

This has been such a “revolutionary” year for me; I had to cap it off by an actual event: the reenactment of the raids on Fort William and Mary in New Castle, New Hampshire on December 14 and 15, 1774 this past weekend. There were two raids on this under-manned fort: first they came for the gunpowder, then for the cannon. From September of 1774 New England had been in a constant state of alarm: these December actions were the first overt revolutionary actions: if the Fort had actually been manned, I do believe the American Revolution would have begun in December of 1774 rather than April of 1775. “What if” history is generally pointless, but still, this particular episode has everything: a mid-day ride by Paul Revere warning the people of Portsmouth of the imminent arrival of warships, two raids on successive days, removing the “peoples’s” gunpowder and cannon from the “king’s” fort, a trampled British flag.

I was early for the December 15 reenactment, so I walked around a nearly people-less New Castle with bells ringing on Sunday morning: despite the calm, it was kind of exciting!

You can read that I am using the language from the official marker: “overt”. It was overt! It was open treason after Revere arrived in Portsmouth in the late afternoon of December 13. One of the town’s wealthiest and most influential residents, John Langdon (Continental Congress member and later President pro tempore of the US Senate and Governor of New Hampshire), recruited Patriot raiders on the streets with fife and drum, and eventually a force of nearly 400 militiamen assaulted the Fort on the next day. Inside were a mere five men under the command of Captain John Cochran, who gave this account to the Royal Governor John Wentworth:  About three o’ clock the Fort was besieged on all sides by upwards of four hundred men. I told them on their peril not to enter; they replied they would; I immediately ordered three four-pounders to be fired on them, and then the small arms, and before we could be ready to fire again, we were stormed on all quarters, and they immediately secured both me, and my men, and kept us prisoners about one hour and a half, during which time they broke open the Powder House, and took all the Powder away except one barrel, and having put it into boats and sent it off, they released me from my confinement. Despite the fire, there were no injuries, except for the Fort’s flag, which was pulled down and trampled upon. About 100 barrels of gunpowder were dispensed to nearby towns for safekeeping.

Howard Pyle’s illustration of the Surrender of Fort William and Mary, December 14, 1774, New York Public Library Digital Gallery.

And on the next day they came back for the cannon. Even more men, from both sides of the Piscataqua (the Maine side was then Massachusetts), under the command of Continental Congress member John Sullivan (another Continental Congress representative and future NH governor), raided the surrendered fort and carried away 16 cannon, 60 muskets and additional military stores. Sullivan had formerly been close friends with Governor Wentworth, but their relationship was severed by the latter’s Loyalism and lies to his countrymen, a point that was played up by the reenacting Sullivan in his speech to his troops and audience. I think they were planning to return to the pillaged port again but were preventing from doing so by the arrival of two British ships, the Canceaux and the Scarborough in the following week.

After a rousing speech by Sullivan (2024), off to the Fort!

Reenactors (and reenectment attendees) often endure extreme heat and cold waiting for reenactments to occur! It was a cold morning, but as you can see by this charming reenactor’s smile, also a pleasurable one. I was so whipped up by Sullivan’s (2024) speech that I felt that I had to visit Governor Wentworth’s nearby house, as if expecting to find him there to counter his former friend’s accusations. I will give him not the last word but a last word, as I think we need some more contemporary accounts: the letter from Portsmouth below was featured in all the American newspapers in the last week of December, and then Governor Wentworth’s proclamation followed in early January of 1775. The separation seems severe.

Essex Gazette, January 10, 1775.


November 5th: What’s in a Date?

I’m anxious about our election, and when I am anxious, I always go back into history to find reassurance in relativity. Everything is relative, we’re just dust in the wind. I didn’t really know where I was going, but I started looking into the history of suffrage in our country, as those women really struggled and ulimately succeeded so I thought they would be inspiring and reassuring. And then I came across the date November 5th, 1872, when Susan B. Anthony voted for Ulysses S. Grant, and was arrested ten days afterwards for playing man at the polls. Well, I thought, we could have a nice bookend moment ahead of us on November 5, 2024! But as stalwart as Susan was, she did not ease my anxiety, I needed more historical immersion: so after a brief survey of twentieth-century US electoral November Fifths, I went back into the eighteenth, seventeenth, and sixteenth centuries just to stretch things out a bit and put my 21st century problems in perspective. I found struggles against tyranny in the 18th and 17th centuries, represented by the November 5 birthday of General John Glover, a Revolutionary hero who is ignored here in his native city of Salem but has quite a following in neighboring Swampscott, where avid preservationists are struggling to preserve his retirement farmhouse. Further back, William of Orange landed at Torbay on November 5, 1688, to unseat his father-in-law James II and establish a “glorious” contractual/constitutional monarchy. Earlier in that same century, there was of course the most memorable event, the Gunpowder Plot of November 5, 1605, an attempted coup foiled, and the inspiration for the observation of “Pope’s Night” in colonial Massachusetts. And right in the midst of the Renaissance, Copernicus gazed at the lunar eclipse while in Rome for the Golden Jubilee, germinating new ideas about the heliocentric universe. November 5th has indeed been both an innovative and momentous date throughout history, and I’m hoping that November 5th, 2024 will also break new ground.

Wonderful eclipse painting in background by Mexican artist Rufino Tamayo.