Walking the Berkshires

A Little Night Magic

I keep wandering out in the shadows of the backyard, staring across the tassels of the high grass beyond the iron gate, hoping for early fireflies.  You cannot rush this festival of lights. Two years ago, the first firefly was a solitary traveler, grounded at my feet on a chilly 4th of June.  The next week they winked and drifted in their meandering thousands out over the field and through the branches of the apple trees beneath a starlit sky.  For a few magic weeks there are fairies at the bottom of the garden, to be cupped in wondering hands and then released to rejoin the dance.  I never tire of them, these swamp candles and wisp lights, a fresh delight with every viewing.

All too soon the mower makes its annual circuit of the old field in the second week of July, the apex of summer.  But now, with pink and yellow lady slippers in their glory, berry blossoms and swooning bees on every bush and vine, flower beds bursting with blue-eyed spiderwort and iris spears tipped with indigo, the cusp of June is sweet expectancy.  And I wait, out here where bats flitter to music only they can hear, and there are no cicadas yet to drone away the golden dregs of summer, waiting for the fireflies come.

There!

("Sentinel Oak with Fireflies" by Robin Street-Morris)

Physignominy

Founding Fathers found again!

Eerie, ain't it?                                                       

'Course, if you age them, there are other possibilities.  Vice President Burr, meet Senator Byrd.                      

For some reason, it is easier to find Democrats who are dead ringers for these revolutionaries.  I tried to make Dick Cheney look like Martha Washington, but couldn't find any photos of him without glasses. This may be why he doesn't wear contacts...

Caption This!

The Legend of Rebecca and Abigail Bates: "The American Army of Two"

Americans have a longstanding fondness for David and Goliath stories, particularly those in which our scrappy homegrown underdogs beard the oppressing giant.  They are an established part of our national myth and cultural heritage.  Longfellow captivates his readers with tales of "...how the farmers gave them ball for ball / From behind each fence and farmyard wall" and turned back the British after Concord.  "John Henry drove his fifteen feet, An' the steam drill only made nine, Lawd, Lawd..."  And for those of us or a certain age or older, The Miracle on Ice.  Even after suffering tremendous losses, we are quick to salvage something of our own, such as Doolittle's bombing raid on Japan, a forlorn hope that became a great propaganda victory just 4 months after Peal Harbor. 

Local history abounds with these stories, from Sybil Ludington's Ride to Barbara Fritchie waving the flag of Union at Stonewall's confederates as they marched toward Pennsylvania.  I came across a classic tale of this sort recently from the maritime history of Massachusetts during the War of 1812, the story of the two daughters of a lighthouse keeper who by pluck and invention saved their town from the British marauders.  The tale, like all good yarns, may have grown in the telling, but young Rebecca and Abigail Bates are widely remembered in New England lore, poetry and folksong as the "American Army of Two".

The story goes that Simeon Bates was the keeper of the lighthouse at Scituate on the shores of Massachusetts Bay and lived there with his family during the War of 1812.  He had a number of children, but the two principals in this tale are Rebecca, who based on her obituary would have been about 20 at the time this story takes place, and Abigail, who was about 13.  Early in September, 1814, a British warship was sighted offshore and prepared to launch barges toward the lighthouse.  Simeon Bates was away from the Lighthouse and only his wife and the two girls were on hand.  The girls, knowing the militia would not get there in time, decided to hide from view and play a fife and drum to make the enemy think the soldiers were coming.  They struck up Yankee Doodle, the British ceased to row, and the warship recalled them and left, much to the joy of the young saviors of Scituate, the Army of Two.

It is a wonderful story.  It delighted young readers of St. Nicholas Magazine, which ran the story "Rebecca the Drummer" in July 1874 written by Charles Barnard and based on an elderly Rebecca Bates' recollection of the event.  Rebecca Bates went so far as to sell affidavits of her story for 10 cents.  There were apparently contemporary doubters of the tale, as well as at least one modern one.  Nonetheless, Becky's sister Abby (who survived her) was reportedly borne to her grave by uniformed G.A.R. veterans and since then her account has been widely repeated as if factual.  If the extensive research by the Scituate Historical Society concludes the story is likely true, we are not likely to settle the matter further with some on-line sleuthing, but let us see what further details we can add from the historic record.

The blockading British apparently approached Scituate by sea on three occasions between June 11 and July 9th in 1814.  The June 11th raid two place as barges from two British ships entered Scituate harbor and burned or carried off a number of vessels.  Captain John Mason, a boy of about 9 years at the time of the raid, later recalled that the British took three fishing vessels as prizes - "Orient", "Sophronia", and his own father's "Rosebud", and burned five or six others.  A History of Scituate published in 1831 says that "ten vessels, fishing and coastal craft, were lost".  Mason also stated that the barges belonged to the British frigate "Nymph" and 74 gun "La Hogue", though the latter named vessel has not been discovered among the navy list at the time and the Scituate History referenced above claims they came from the 74-gun "Bulwark". 

It is not clear whether he was referring to this raid or a subsequent landing, but a biographical entry for  Captain Mason records that he "remembered once when a fleet of these boats were coming in, that the women began to carry off their beds and furniture, but an officer in one of the British boats cried out, "Good women don't carry your beds off, we ain't going to hurt you."    The British did not disembark when burning the ships in the harbor on June 11th.  Six days later on June 17th, according to committee reports from the 30th United States Congress; "a British ship-of-war, two brigs, and several small craft came to anchor near Scituate harbor..."  Col. John Barstow's militia were called out on July 9th when a British warship, variously identified as the "Bulwark" by some and by Congress as the "Nymph", demanded provisions from the town which were not furnished.  The militia remained on guard that summer but the British did not reappear.

It is no wonder that these three events became tangled up in people's minds.  Whether "Bulwark" or "Nymph" demanded vegetables or burned ships is a matter for those with access to the logs in the admiralty records.  As to the fourth and final British approach - the one reportedly thwarted by the musical Becky and Abby Bates - that took place in late summer, either August or early September, and is recalled by one additional eye-witness, Ensign Otis, who "upon rising early saw a English ship anchoring off the harbor and warned the inhabitants of the little village."   The version of the story printed in St. Nicholas (which has Rebecca as the drummer, unlike other accounts where she is said to have played the fife), also describes the British arriving offshore in the morning at low tide, and only launching boats at high tide around 2 p.m.  This tale conflates events from previous raids and was written to inspire young readers with the heroism of the Bates girls so must be taken with a heavy dose of salt.

C. Wellington Furlong, who as a small boy summered in Scituate, later recalled;

"Next door to the Merritts lived Becky Bates, then a very old woman, who, in boyish wonderment I often watched her pull her corn cob pipe and listen to her story. During this war the British four gun HMS Bulwark in 1814 sent boats into the harbor and burned the shipping because the selectmen of the town, descendants of the Men of Kent, obstinately refused their demand for supplies. Not long after, Becky told me, another British warship, the HMS La Hogue appeared, dropped anchor a mile or so offshore and her barges loaded with marines pulled toward the harbor with obvious intention of burning the town. Becky, then about 16 was alone in the lighthouse with her younger sister Abigail. Becky quickly seized her brother’s fife and her younger sister Abigail the drum. Sneaking out of their lighthouse home they followed behind the cedar covered sand hills of the point, beating a lively tattoo to the tune of “Yankee Doodle.” The marines, who had believed the town undefended, hearing the rhythmic strains wafted toward the ship’s boat, thought the town garrison was marching out, returned to the ship and the La Hogue sailed away."

Whether or not things transpired as later remembered and long repeated, no churlish iconoclast has definitively debunked the legend of the American Army of Two, and far be it from me to do so.  Becky and Abby Bates remain heroines in the hearts of many, and why not?

U. Utah Phillips hears that Lonesome Whistle Blow

News of the death on May 23rd of folksinger and storyteller U. Utah Phillips made me wish I had had the chance to hear him live.  There would have been a lot more talking than playing, some of it hysterically funny, some poignant and moving. A lot of hip, progressive 20 somethings were introduced to Phillips through his collaboration with Ani DiFranco, and most notably their 1996 CD The Past Didn't Go Anywhere, combining his classic stories with her contemporary scoring.  They cut a second disc in 1999 called Fellow Workers, but their previous effort was the true groundbreaker.

Utah was the son of union organizers, a rider of rails, hobo troubadour and pacifist army veteran.  He was a great fan of trains.  Before a heart condition forced him to cut back his appearances, he was a road musician who played 120 shows a year.  He was loved by many. 

Getting Close

For more than 2 years, our family has been working to negotiate the sale of a conservation easement (called Conservation Restrictions or CRs in MA and CT) on +/- 19.55 acres of our beloved "Windrock"  in Wareham, MA.   This is what I do professionally, but this time it is on behalf of my children, parents, sister, aunts, uncles, and cousins.  Saving land takes time, and getting agreement on the terms of a CR on behalf of so many when there are two co-holders and a host of reviewers is a tall order.  There are many ups and downs and you learn to hold a steady course and respond in a timely fashion to whatever challenge arises.

I don't want to jinx it.  But we are now within three weeks of a tentative closing data and we are feverishly working through the conservation transaction punch list. Our family has come together in an extraordinary way to do what is right for the property and honor the love and conservation vision of my grandparents Robert and Athalia Barker, who bought the place more than 61 years ago and wanted it to remain in the family and as intact and unspoilt as possible.   Selling this CR allows us to retain title to the entire property and helps ensure that we can maintain it as we have loved it for future generations to enjoy.

We can see the runway and are preparing to land.  When it is over and we all can exhale, I'll share the details. 

Old Soldiers

More vintage memorial Day postcards here.

HMS Nimrod, the Scourge of Buzzards Bay

"Nimrod" has little meaning for most of us in these secular times, but the name of the legendary biblical hunter and Mesopotamian tyrant was once considered fitting for a fast sailing warship.  There have been six ships in the British Royal Navy with this name, but the second of these Nimrods is of particular interest this Memorial Day weekend as I sit overlooking the sparkling waters of Buzzards Bay.  From this vantage point in June of 1814, I might have seen HMS Nimrod launching her boats to burn the shipping in Wareham.

This HMS Nimrod was a new warship, a Cruizer Clas brig-sloop mounting 18 guns and launched on May 25th, 1812.  Over 100 brig-sloops of this design were made during the Napoleonic Wars, but in 1814 Bonaparte was in exile and the British were free to give their attention to the war in North America.  The coast of New England was soon dominated by the British navy.  Two frigates at Provincetown owned Cape Cod Bay, and the British maintained an anchorage on Naushon Island's Tarpaulin Cove, long a refuge for smugglers and freebooters.  From this base, Captain Vincent Newton and HMS Nimrod patrolled Nantucket and Vineyard sounds as well as Buzzards Bay as part of a squadron lead by Commander Paget of the HMS Superb, a 74 gun third rate ship of the line.

Some of the towns on the shore paid the British to spare their property - Nantucket chose neutrality over blockade and starvation - but others like Falmouth at the head of Buzzard's Bay defied the British and received 300 cannonballs worth of broadsides from the Nimrod for their trouble.  Aside from the local militia and a few field pieces, the only defense available for the Bay towns were two Jefferson gunboats based in New Bedford.  There were shallow draft vessels, 50 feet long and 18 feet wide, with about twenty crew and 2 or three heavy guns.  They were utterly outclassed in men and armament by Nimrod, and the gunboats were reduced to hiding in the Acushnet River rather than taking on the British.

The raid on Wareham took place on June 13, 1814.  The town was a likely target of opportunity as a center of shipbuilding, iron, and leather manufacturing, and there was even a cotton factory.  A number of vessels from Falmouth had taken refuge in the Wareham River at the head of the Bay and there were no fortifications besides the shallow waters of the bay to prevent attack.   On the 13th of June, Nimrod took some of Superb's barges and impressing local navigators made her way up the Bay.  At 10 O'Clock with a flood tide and fair wind, the Nimrod anchored in the vicinity of Bird Island, about 6 miles from Wareham.  Six barges were promptly manned with 220 sailors and marines.  Hoisting their lateen sails and shipping their oars, they proceeded two abreast toward Wareham.

The town had warning - Ebenezer Bourne sailed ahead of the British when he spotted them off Mattapoisett and cut overland across the next to alert the selectmen.  The militia, however, had only just begun to muster when they were told not to oppose the British because a treaty had been negotiated with the raiders to spare private property.  A history of the Town from 1867 describes the events of the raid in detail;

The British came to the turn of the channel---here set a white flag, and proceeded to the lower wharf, where the marines land­ed---being about 200 in number---paraded on the wharf, and set a sen­tinel upon the high land back of the village, with orders to let no citi­zen pass from the village;---and
about this time, [William] Fearing and [Jonathan] Reed approached the enemy with a white handkerchief upon a cane, and made the treaty aforesaid. The enemy then marched up the street, de­taching sentries upon the high land, at convenient distances, until they arrived at the Cotton
Factory. This, they set on fire by shooting a Congreve rocket into a post in. the middle
of the first story, and re­turned, taking the arms and powder at Capt. Bumpus' house, and
threatened to burn the house, if the town stores were not surrendered, which they thought
were there.

"About this time, four schooners belonging to Falmouth, and one be­longing to Plymouth,
which had put into this port, for safety, were set on fire by the men left with the
barges;—these, and the Factory, as they asserted, not being private property. As they
passed up, they called at Wm. Fearing's store, took something to drink, and went into
his kitchen, took a brand of fire, and proceeded to his ship-yard, im­mediately in front
of his house, and here set fire to a new brig, nearly finished, upon the stocks, belonging
to said Fearing, he remonstrating and reminding them of their treaty, but they asserting
that she was built for a privateer, put her well on fire, so that she burnt to ashes.
They fired also a ship and brig lying at the wharf, and five sloops, all of which, as well
as the Cotton Factory, were put out. Six vessels were not set on fire. They next took
twelve men as hostages, to pre­vent our citizens from firing upon them---and hoisting a
white flag, and saying if a gun was fired the hostages would be massacred, embarked.,
having tarried on shore about two hours. About this time, Capt. Is­rael Fearing assembled
12 men on the opposite side of the Narrows, and showed fight. One of the barges dropped
over that way, and the Narrows citizens begged him not to fire, as a treaty had been made
and hostages taken to insure its performance---whereupon he fell back, to watch their
further movements, kept his men assembled, but, as the hostages were not given up until
they passed below him, he did not fire, and the enemy departed in peace, landing our
citizens on Cromeset Point. The barges formed a line, fired a Congreve rocket into the
air, fired a swivel from the bow of each barge, gave three cheers, and proceeded leisurely
to the brig..."

The damage done in Wareham was more than $20,000, comparable to nearly $1 million today.  The ships burned "were identified as the Fair Trader, 444 tons, pierced for eighteen 12-pounders and the brig Independent, 300 tons, pierced for 14 guns and on the stocks ready for launching. The schooners Fancy, Elizabeth and Nancy, all of Falmouth, were also brand new. The value of the cotton factory was estimated at half a million dollars."

Nimrod did not get away completely unscathed.  Passing through Quick's Hole at low water about midday the day after the raid, she struck the shore by North Rock on the northeastern part of Nashawena Island, according to a site maintained by the Plymouth Archaeological Rediscovery Project:

"14^th June At 5 Weighed— running towards Quick’s Hole. At 11:30 hawled up for the Hole. At 12:30 observed the Brig [Nimrod] to strike the shore. Shortened and furled the sails. Employed getting anchor out astern to Heave her off. Boat from Superb came to our assistance. Got out several of the Guns and Shot. At 3:30 Hove her off & anchored with the Small Bower. At 6 Weighed and stood towards the Superb. At 7:30 anchored off Gay Head."

This bit of detail from Nimrod's own log is a significant piece of information , because tradition had the  Nimrod grounding farther up the bay off Round Hill and jettisoning cannon to lighten the ship.  In fact, a number of 3 pound cannons were discovered in the 1980s at this spot and have been attributed to the Nimrod, but a convincing case is made here these were from an older ship and not the Nimrod.  Nimrod would likely have offloaded some of her armament of heavy carronades at Quick's Hole into the boat sent to her aid by Superb rather than pitching them overboard.  The cannons that were found in the bay by the late Henry W. Kendall and David W. Schloerb were part of the Kendall Whaling Museum's collection until that institution merged with the New Bedford Whaling Museum. Three of the cannon were awarded to towns impacted by the Nimrod.  Falmouth and Wareham each got one, stored in an alkaline bath of fresh water and sodium carbonate to reverse the ionization of the iron and stabilize the metal for later display.  Whether or not they came from the Nimrod, they are truly one of the treasures of the Bay.   

HMS Nimrod continued to raid off Rhode Island that summer.  She was wrecked on a rock off the coast of Wales in 1827, salvaged, and sold out of naval service.  Wareham now has a condominium and yacht club called "British Landing." 

Bad Clams

Red Tide seems poised to hammer the shellfish beds from New Hampshire to the Cape and perhaps beyond as it did three years ago. 

"The state Division of Marine Fisheries closed Cape Cod Bay shellfishing in Sandwich and Bourne yesterday afternoon. The rest of the Cape and Islands remain open to shellfishing. As a result of yesterday's closures, the coast of Massachusetts from the New Hampshire border to Cape Cod Canal is now off-limits to shellfishing.

Experts are concerned this spring's algae bloom will be a repeat of the devastating toxic algae outbreak of 2005, when shellfish bed closures stretched from Maine to Martha's Vineyard and Massachusetts sustained estimated losses of $3 million a week to fishermen and related businesses."

If it is in Bourne at the East End of the Canal, it will probably be in Buzzard's Bay at the West End in no time. All in all I'm unlikely to go Quahogging this weekend.

A Thought

It is very easy to fall in love with the idea of rural living and miss the reality of rural livelihoods.

Perhaps that is why I am drawn to the stark vision of Andrew Wyeth's "Tenant Farmer" (1961), and Winslow Homer's solitary reaper in "The Veteran in the Field" (1865), below.