May 2025 - American Heritage Partners

May 1741: A Travesty of Justice in New York City

Posted on May 29, 2025June 3, 2025 by Jonathan Dickey

Also known as the, “Negro Plot of 1741.”

Today, when we look back at the Salem Witch Trials, we shake our collective heads and tell ourselves that the execution of innocent men and women in 1692 was aberrational. “Never again,” we say. Half a century later, however, it happened again, but this time it wasn’t witches—it was the alleged conspiracy of black slaves in New York City to burn down the city and seize control of the government. The public hysteria over the discovery of the alleged “Negro Plot” went far beyond the hysteria of the people of Salem in 1692, and lasted far longer. Yet, most Americans today have no knowledge of the events of 1741: mass arrests, imprisonments, interrogations, convictions, and executions of scores of enslaved persons accused of participating in the plot, based on “evidence” that was questionable at best. These grisly executions were the result of a massive miscarriage of justice perpetrated by a group of judges, prosecutors, witnesses and jurors whose racial biases against blacks were glaringly apparent. It was on May 30, 1741 that the first accused African-American leaders of the “Plot” were tried and convicted of conspiracy, then burned at the stake before an enormous crowd of onlookers. These first two men, named Cuffee and Quaco—were two of dozens of black slaves who were summarily executed after show trials conducted with little or no regard for the civil rights of the defendants. It is estimated that over half of the male slaves in New York City were jailed in the process, with many of them escaping execution only by being shipped off to the West Indies, where many died from the appalling conditions of life that enslaved persons working in the sugar plantations experienced there.

The main source of information about the 1741 trials is a journal written by Daniel Horsmanden, an ambitious political figure in New York who became the leader of the investigation into the alleged “Negro Plot.” The journal was published in 1744 under the title “A Journal of the Proceedings in the Detection of the Conspiracy Formed by Some White People, in Conjunction with Negro and Other Slaves” (available online for free on archive.org).

The “Negro Plot” first came to light—or was invented—based upon widespread speculation that a series of fires in New York City in March through May, 1741 were not accidental, but part of a conspiracy to burn the city down, take control of the government, and install one of the black community’s own—a man named Caesar—as the Governor. The plot thickened when a white prostitute named Peggy (who had given birth to a child by Caesar), implicated Caesar as a ringleader of the plot. Other white people also played a role in the first wave of accusations: Mary Burton, a 16-year-old servant girl, accused her master, John Hughson (also white) of being the leader of the conspiracy, and of hosting meetings attended by a large number of enslaved blacks at his tavern. Hughson was suspected of trading in stolen property and other misdeeds, so he was a convenient target for these accusations. A number of poor working-class white men were also accused of plotting with enslaved blacks to take the white bosses of New York who were oppressing them. It was Mary Burton who ultimately gave sworn testimony that Hughson had agreed to help Cuffee, Caesar and another black slave, Prince, burn the city to the ground, and in exchange for his help, Hughson would be named “King” of the new government. Burton’s alarming testimony led to an all-out witch-hunt, as New York’s lieutenant-governor issued a proclamation offering substantial cash rewards for information on any other persons involved in setting the fires. More accusations followed, and many blacks were arrested and jailed on trumped-up charges. Not surprisingly, some of these men decided to turn “state’s evidence” and accuse others—shades of the Salem Witch Trials, indeed.

By mid-May, vigilante justice was already taking place in New York, with two black men having been burned at the stake on May 3, and two more—Caesar and Prince—hanged on May 11. It was only then that Daniel Horsmanden commenced the first of a series of show trials of various slaves implicated in the conspiracy. On May 29, the trial against Quaco and Cuffee began, with Horsmanden serving as one of the three judges who were to decide their fate. The two defendants pled not guilty, but the trial was a farce: by the end of the day they had been found guilty and were sentenced to be burned at the stake. The next day, the sentence was gruesomely carried out. One account said that “the prisoners were followed by a riotous crowd of New Yorkers, anxious to watch them burn.” Before dying, the two men allegedly confessed to their crimes, and implicated many more black men in the conspiracy. Still, no mercy was shown. After being burned alive, they were unceremoniously buried in the nearby African Burial Ground.

Daniel Horsmanden

More trials and more executions followed. In total, some 30 or 40 black slaves were either hanged or burned at the stake. Four white people also were hanged, including Hughson and a Catholic priest named John Ury, who was allegedly involved in the conspiracy in order to re-establish Catholicism as the prevailing religion in New York after the city was destroyed.

What became of Horsmanden? Incredibly, perhaps, he went on to become the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court in the Province of New York. At the time of the trials in 1741, he already had been serving as the Recorder of New York City and one of the justices of the Supreme Court. He also served on the Governor’s Executive Council from 1733 to 1747, and then from 1755 to 1776. He led a long and apparently untroubled life, dying in 1778 at the age of 87.

Today, the actual facts of what happened in 1741 are elusive. One fact that is undisputed is that there was a series of fires in 1741; not much more than that is certain, unless one accepts as true the facts set forth in Daniel Horsmanden’s journal (a dubious proposition, to be sure). It is unarguable that a number of witnesses swore that there was a conspiracy, but other witnesses denied that any such conspiracy existed. In many instances, the witness testimony was entirely contradictory, but no serious effort was undertaken to sort out these major evidentiary discrepancies. Verdicts were rendered swiftly and mercilessly. Like the Salem Witch Trials, the “Negro Plot” trials were a travesty of justice, and represent one of the darkest chapters in the history of New York City.

Remembering Patrick Henry

Posted on May 29, 2025June 3, 2025 by Jonathan Dickey

Remembering Patrick Henry

One of the greatest of our Founding Fathers was Patrick Henry, the man who famously declared to his fellow Virginians in 1775, “give me liberty of give me death!” We honor him today on the anniversary of his birth on May 29, 1736.

Background

The story of Henry’s early years in Virginia is briefly summarized. He was born in 1736 on his family’s farm in Hanover County, Virginia. He was of Scottish descent, and his father John Henry was well educated; thus, Patrick was largely home-schooled. While engaged in various trades and business pursuits—including operating a tavern– Patrick studied law, and ultimately he received his law license in 1760 at the age of 24. His law practice brought him a good income, and good experience in public speaking before judges and juries. Over time, Henry became well-known for his oratorical skills, and his defense of individual liberties in various court cases. Soon, he became acquainted with several of the leading political leaders in Virginia, including Peyton Randolph, the future President of America’s First Continental Congress. It was through these relationships that his political career was launched.

1765: The Stamp Act Controversy

Henry’s political career began in earnest when he was elected to Virginia’s House of Burgesses in May 1765, representing Louisa County. This was just weeks after the English Parliament had passed the infamous Stamp Act, and the American colonies were in a rebellious mood. The timing of his election was propitious– Henry immediately threw himself into the political debates over the Stamp Act. When the House of Burgesses met in Williamsburg on May 29, he stood up and launched a full-throated attack on Parliament, and he strongly advocated that Virginians should refuse to abide by the Act. While no transcript of that speech survives, first-hand accounts confirm that Henry went far beyond a mere “remonstrance.” Indeed, he was quoted as saying “if this be treason, make the most of it!”

Henry’s speech made him a star. The resolutions he proposed in opposition to the Stamp Act were mostly approved by the Burgesses, setting an example for other colonies to follow. News of Virginia’s forceful rejection of the Stamp Act soon reached the other colonies, and by August the news had reached England, where Members of Parliament reacted with dismay; they repealed the Act the following Spring. Thus, a decade before the Revolutionary War commenced in 1775, Patrick Henry already had set the colonies on a course for independence through his provocative stance against the Stamp Act in 1765.

1774: Conflicts with Lord Dunmore

Over the ensuing years, Henry’s opposition to Britain’s attempt to regulate the colonies hardened, and by 1773-74, he had become part of a “Committee of Correspondence” in Virginia, the purpose of which was to communicate and share information with political leaders of the other colonies. After the Boston Tea Party in December 1773, and passage of the “Coercive Acts” of 1774, Henry became fully radicalized. He took the lead in bringing together a group of burgesses who pushed back against Virginia’s royal Governor, Lord Dunmore. In reaction, Dunmore abruptly dissolved the House of Burgesses in order to shut down any organized resistance. But Henry and his allies would not be deterred, and over the next three years (1774-76) they held five different conventions, including a few that took place after war broke out in April 1775.

Sept-Oct. 1774: The First Continental Congress

In the meantime, Henry was elected to be a delegate to the First Continental Congress that met in Philadelphia in 1774. Henry distinguished himself at the Convention, so much so that one of the leaders of the Congress, Silas Deane, described him as “the compleatest speaker I ever heard.” The First Continental Congress finished its work in October 1774, without reaching a consensus on the main question: should America seek a compromise, or seek independence? Instead, the Congress took a series of steps short of declaring independence: the delegates signed the “Continental Association,” part of its “Declaration and Resolves,” which included a boycott on British goods, as well as provisions for “non-exportation” of American goods. The Congress planned to resume in the Spring of 1775—a plan that was derailed by the outbreak of war in April 1775.

March 1775: The Second Virginia Convention

When the First Continental Congress adjourned, Henry returned to Virginia. In early 1775, Virginia held its Second Virginia Convention. Henry was among the most strident of the delegates to the Convention, and he pleaded with his fellow delegates to raise a militia, and prepare for war. “The war is inevitable and let it come,” he declared. “I repeat sir, let it come.”

So here are the concluding words to Henry’s speech to the Virginia Convention on March 23, words that have gone down in history as a clarion call to the American colonists to mobilize:

“There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free—if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending—if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained—we must fight! I repeat it, sir, we must fight! … Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!”

Henry ended his famous speech with a flourish: he grabbed an ivory-handled paper cutter and, holding it like a knife, pretended to stab himself in the chest.

Some historians debate whether the after-the-fact accounts of Henry’s speech are accurate; there is no transcript of his exact words. Whether entirely correct or not, there is no doubt that Henry’s speech moved his audience: the delegates passed the legislation he was advancing, and Virginians now were authorized to prepare for armed resistance.

The War Years and Beyond

Less well known are the many important contributions Henry made to the cause of freedom during and after the War. A few examples provide glimpses into his enduring commitment to democracy and individual freedom:

On May 15, 1776, Henry was one of the leaders of the Virginia Convention that declared the colony’s independence from Britain—months before the Continental Congress adopted the Declaration of Independence.
In July 1776, Henry became the first Governor of the State of Virginia, serving from 1776 to 17779, then again from 1784 to 1786 (post Revolution).
In 1787-89, when America’s Constitutional Convention undertook to draft and enact our U.S. Constitution, Henry was a vocal opponent of the document, both because he viewed it as creating too strong a national government (the very thing he felt Americans had gone to war to resist), and because it lacked an explicit declaration of individual liberties. Our later Bill of Rights owes its existence in no small part to Henry’s powerful advocacy.

Henry’s Personal Life

Through it all, Henry was also a husband and father. He married twice, first to Sarah Shelton (who died in 1775), then to Dorothea Dandridge. He fathered seventeen children. Henry was also a deeply religious man, and was a strong advocate for religious liberty (in a state where the Church of England dominated religious life). He also expressed misgivings about slavery, although he himself owned slaves (and did not free any of them during his life).

After the War, Henry could have had many different political positions in the national government, but chose instead to devote time to his family and his business endeavors. In fact, he turned down George Washington’s offer to become a Supreme Court justice. Henry also refused the post of Secretary of State, Senator, and Ambassador. When it became clear that Washington would not seek a third term, Henry turned overtures by some of his political allies that he run for President. His last years were spent at his plantation, Red Hill, where he died in June 1799. Countless monuments and memorials to Henry attest to his status as one of our country’s greatest Americans. So, today we commemorate the 289th anniversary of his birth. Happy Birthday, Patrick!

Remembering James Otis Jr.

Posted on May 24, 2025June 3, 2025 by Jonathan Dickey

John Adams said of him that he was a “flame of fire.” The Boston colonists’ nemesis, Governor Thomas Hutchinson, said that he “set the Province in a flame.” Yet, few Americans today know his name. James Otis Jr. was at one time the leader of the rebel cause, years before the outbreak of the Revolutionary War in 1775. But when we speak of the Founding Fathers, we don’t think of him. How can that possibly be?

Born in 1725, James Otis was in his 50’s when the Revolution began. He was a decade old than John Adams, John Hancock, Paul Revere, Patrick Henry and other leaders of the rebellion. He was 16 years old than Dr. Joseph Warren, and 18 years older than Thomas Jefferson. They all looked up to him. Otis had graduated from Harvard at age 18, and became a successful lawyer in Boston. He gained a modicum of fame when he served as counsel to a group of colonists challenging the legality of the so-called “Writs of Assistance,” which authorized the English government to enter people’s homes with no notice or probable cause. Many years later, John Adams paid tribute to Otis’ role in that case, calling it “the first scene of the first act of opposition to the arbitrary claims of Great Britain.”

By 1764, Otis was a vocal opponent of Parliament, and he was the first of the rebel leaders to articulate the view that Parliament’s actions in taxing Americans were unconstitutional—perhaps the first expression of the argument that has gone down in American history: “no taxation without representation.” Yet Otis was not a grenade thrower, and he abhorred the violent confrontations that men like Samuel Adams were provoking in the streets of Boston. Instead, Otis used his pen to frame the debate over which the Revolution ultimately would be fought. In the mid-1760’s he produced a number of important pamphlets that circulated in Massachusetts and other colonies, all of which heavily influenced the thinking of American political leaders.

By the end of the 1760’s, Otis’ mental health began to deteriorate badly, and he was sidelined by the time of the Boston Tea Party, the “Intolerable Acts,” and the “Shot Heard Round the World.” In 1771, John Adams went so far as to say that Otis was “raving mad.” While Otis lived another dozen years, and was still alive when the War effectively ended with the Battle of Yorktown in 1781, he was a mere shell of his former self. Before he died, Otis destroyed all of his papers, an act that has deprived historians of what could have been one of the most important first-person accounts of the events leading up to the Revolution. We are left to rely on the memoirs of others who knew him, most prominently John Adams, who bestowed the highest praise on Otis for his honesty, integrity and commitment to the Cause.

As for Otis’ personal life, he married Ruth Cunningham in 1755, and together they had three children. Otis’ sister Mercy, who married James Warren, became one of the most important female figures of the Revolutionary War era. But Otis’ own family was split—his wife was a Loyalist, as was his daughter, Elizabeth—shades of Benjamin Franklin, whose son William was a rabid Loyalist throughout the War. James and Ruth were married for 28 years. James died at age 58 when he was struck by lightning while watching a thunderstorm. Ruth outlived James by six years, dying in 1789.

So today we honor the memory of James Otis, Jr., one of the most important leaders of the American Revolution, on the 242^nd anniversary of his death on May 23, 1783.

Remembering Dolley Madison

Posted on May 13, 2025May 23, 2025 by Jonathan Dickey

One of the most interesting First Ladies in American history was Dolley Madison, who was born this day on May 20, 1768. Dolley Payne was born in a log cabin in North Carolina to parents who were devout Quakers, and she was raised in that faith. The family owned slaves that they freed during the Revolutionary War, consistent with the Society of Friends’ strong support for the emancipation of enslaved persons. When Dolley was 15, the family moved to Philadelphia, and Dolley entered into an arranged marriage with John Todd, a Philadelphia lawyer. By John she gave birth to two sons, but the family was devasted by the yellow fever epidemic of 1793: Dolley’s husband and one of her sons died from the disease, leaving her a widow and single parent of her surviving son, Payne. She immediately became impoverished, and struggled to make ends meet. She met and married James Madison the following year, after she was introduced to him by none other than Aaron Burr.

After their marriage in September 1794, James and Dolley continued to live in Philadelphia, where James was deeply involved in national politics as a member of the House of Representatives (and one of the main political leaders of the drafting and passage of the U.S. Constitution in 1789). Madison stepped down from Congress in 1797, and the family moved to Virginia, where they lived only briefly until President Thomas Jefferson appointed Madison his Secretary of State in 1800, and they moved to Washington D.C. There, Dolley became a major figure in Washington social life, and served as Thomas Jefferson’s hostess for White House functions after Jefferson’s wife died. In that role, Dolley took the lead in establishing traditions that became standards for White House occupants to this day. She also was a strong advocate for “reaching across the aisle,” bringing together political leaders of both the opposing Federalist and Democrat parties. Her charm and grace helped Jefferson achieve political successes that otherwise would not have happened. She continued to carry out these diplomatic efforts during her husband’s two terms of office as President.

During Madison’s presidency, the United States went to war against Great Britain in the War of 1812. A popular story has it that when the British army attacked and burned Washington, Dolley rescued various items of historical significance from the White House, including an important painting of George Washington. Accounts differ on who actually carried the painting out of the White House for safekeeping, but evidence suggests it was removed by Dolley’s personal servant, Paul Jennings. Dolley escaped the fire, and crossed the Potomac River to Virginia.

After Madison’s presidency ended in 1817, he and Dolley resided at their plantation at Montpelier until Madison’s death in 1836. Thereafter, Dolley’s life was a series of setbacks, mostly caused by her son Payne’s misbehavior and alcoholism. Dolley went deeply into debt in order to care for her son, and resorted to selling off most of her possessions (including one slave). Her servant Paul Jennings later wrote that by the end of her life she was living in abject poverty. Yet she lived for another two decades, dying on July 12, 1849 in Washington at the age of 81.

Today, historians and commentators consistently rank Dolley Madison in the top 5 of all presidential First Ladies. And so today, we honor her memory on the 257^th anniversary of her birth in 1768.

East Meets West: The Completion of the Transcontinental Railroad

Posted on May 11, 2025May 13, 2025 by Jonathan Dickey

On May 10, 1869, America was transformed. On this day, the “Golden Spike” was driven into a special railroad tie, joining tracks laid by two railroad companies coming from different directions from the Midwest to the West Coast. With the completion of the effort, for the first time, passengers and freight could traverse the entire Continent of North America, from the Atlantic to the Pacific. Up to this point, the journey West was an ordeal, either accomplished by traveling overland by covered wagon or by ship across the Isthmus of Panama, where disease killed many of the passengers along the way. The trip took weeks or months, and travelers were constantly at risk (the Indian Wars were still being fought, and settlers were being killed, among other perils). This had been the basic mode of cross-country transportation from the time of the Louisiana Purchase in 1803 to the final spike on May 10, 1869. The transcontinental railroad’s completion represented a paradigm shift in our way of life in the United States in the 19^th century, rivaled only by the development of commercial air travel in the 20th century.

The construction of the railroad itself took years, and the laying of tracks across the Rocky Mountains and the Sierras was one of the greatest engineering and technological feats in human history. The sheer magnitude of the work that was involved cannot be overstated: vast amounts of materials had to be fabricated and shipped to the work sites; thousands of laborers needed to be hired, transported, fed, clothed and paid; tunnels needed to be dug by hand through miles of rock; wooden bridges needed to be built over canyons and valleys; road beds needed to be cleared and leveled; and routes needed to be negotiated with the government. Most importantly, perhaps, capital needed to be raised to pay for it all. Today we pejoratively talk about the “railroad barons” of the 19^th century, yet the men who staked their personal fortunes and those of their investors in order to pay for the building of the railroad were tireless in their fundraising activities, and overseeing the overall enterprise. The collective effort was colossal.

The building of the transcontinental railroad was a literal race between the Central Pacific Railroad Company (building west to east) and the Union Pacific Railroad Company (building east to west). The total miles of track they built was over 1,900 miles, from Omaha, Nebraska to Sacramento, California. Start-to-finish, the construction took almost five years, from October 1863 to May, 1869. Why the race? The federal government had agreed that wherever it was that the two tracks being laid met would define the boundary between tracks owned by the respective companies (and the revenues to be derived therefrom). At one point, the Union Pacific was on a pace that would extend its line well into Nevada, perhaps to the foot of the Sierras. The pace of its early years of track-laying might have led to that result. By comparison, the slow pace of the Central Pacific’s track-laying efforts in the early years would have resulted in that company’s tracks not getting too far east into Nevada. As it turned out, the Union Pacific’s pace slowed down, and the Central Pacific’s pace picked up.

The two tracks finally met in a location that came to be named Promontory Summit in the Utah Territory. There, an elaborate ceremony was conducted on May 10, 1869, in which the “Golden Spike” was tapped into a special railroad tie made of polished California laurel. The spike was indeed made of gold and had the date of completion engraved on it. The man selected to hammer the spike into the tie was Leland Stanford, one of the “Big Four” leaders of the Central Pacific (also including Collis Huntington, Mark Hopkins and Charles Crocker). A large crowd of dignitaries, workers, and onlookers stood by as the spike was driven, followed by celebrations befitting the occasion.

The completion of the transcontinental railroad had immediate and transformative effects on American life. Large numbers of people who might have been deterred from moving west because of the arduous effort needed to cross the Great Plains and beyond—a journey that took months— could now reach San Francisco in a matter of days. The western states and territories gradually became populated by new arrivals, and cities and towns emerged throughout the west. America was now truly “continental.”

We cannot end this story without acknowledging the incredible contributions made by the thousands of Chinese laborers recruited by the Central Pacific Railroad Company to lay tracks across the Sierras and beyond. Contemporaneous accounts uniformly praised the skills and work ethic of these Chinese workers. The work was often dangerous, and many Chinese laborers perished during the most dangerous periods of work, such as when dynamite was used to blast through solid rock in the course of making tunnels across the Sierras. Sadly, while their work was praised by the leaders of the CPPC, racial discrimination was not uncommon among the workforce, and race-based friction was ever-present. Despite this, the efforts of Chinese Americans were critical to the final outcome.

So, this month we commemorate the 156^th anniversary of the completion of the transcontinental railroad, one of the greatest chapters in our American story. As importantly, we honor the contributions of the thousands of forgotten Americans whose efforts brought about this history-making event.

Remembering Paul Revere

Posted on May 10, 2025May 13, 2025 by Jonathan Dickey

Remembering Paul Revere

This year is the beginning of “high season” for anniversaries of major events in the history of the American Revolution, including the 250^th anniversary of the Battle of Lexington & Concord, just celebrated in April. One of the people who is closely associated in our minds with that anniversary is Paul Revere, famous for his “Midnight Ride” to warn the people of Lexington that “the British Are Coming.” We want to take a moment to also commemorate Paul Revere himself, who died on this day on May 10, 1818 at the advanced age of 83.

To summarize Revere’s life in a few paragraphs is a challenge, as he represented so many things to so many people during his life in Boston during the Revolutionary War era. The son of a French Huguenot silversmith, Revere took up that trade, first as an apprentice to his father, then carrying on the business after his father died. Over time Revere became one of the leading artisans in Boston. While not a “gentlemen,” his clientele included many of the more prominent families of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, and he gradually became a frequent participant in the social life of the elite gentlemen of Boston. He also started a family: with his two wives, Sarah and Rachel, he sired sixteen children, and by all accounts he was a loving father.

As conflicts between the American colonies and the British government escalated over the decade from 1763 (the end of the French & Indian War) to December 1773 (the Boston Tea Party), Revere became a member of the Sons of Liberty, a group of men who became the de facto leaders of the rebellion against British rule. Revere carved out an important role for himself: he became the “go to” person to carry message between and among the rebel leaders, riding his horse for days on end to deliver important news to political leaders in other cities and towns on the eastern seaboard. Indeed, well before his famous “Midnight Ride” in April 1775, Revere had travelled thousands of miles over the period 1773-1775 serving as one of several “express” riders who traveled north to Maine, south to Philadelphia, and all parts in between. Historians scratch their heads as to how Revere came to be such an excellent rider, as he was for all intents and purposes a “city boy,” and didn’t even own a horse!

During this time, Revere continued to work long days and nights at his trade as a silversmith, while also pursuing other trades, including engraver, merchant, and dentist (he was well known for his skill at making false teeth!). Revere made a good living, but he was always subject to the stresses and strains of the local economy, and his income rose and fell depending on how Boston itself was faring. The various trade embargos imposed by both the British and the colonists didn’t help matters, but he survived.

While Revere wanted to serve in the Continental Army, for mysterious reasons he was never accepted, so he found ways to serve the Cause in other ways. He operated a powder mill to make gun powder, for example. Later on, he learned how to make cannons, and he produced a large number of them for use by the American forces. Revere served in the Massachusetts militia for a time, but his service was not noteworthy, except for the one actual combat experience he had that proved disastrous. This was the “Penobscot Expedition,” a land and sea battle that took place in the summer of 1779 at the Penobscot River on the coast of Maine, in which Revere served in the artillery unit. Based on witness testimony, Revere was accused of being a coward, and of defying orders from his commander to take the battle to the enemy. Revere was relieved of duty, but he would not stand for it. Revere demanded a court martial to clear his name, and the matter went to trial. He was not found guilty, but neither was he completely exonerated. For centuries, historians have argued about the truth of the charges against Revere. Suffice it to say that the evidence is contradictory and sketchy at best, and the episode did not cause lasting damage to Revere’s reputation.

Revere had an extraordinarily successful career after the war, including as the founder of the Revere Copper Company, which still exists today. He continued to find new ways to make money as an artisan and merchant, including making bells for churches and public buildings, and making rolled copper for use in sheathing buildings and other structures. His manufacturing enterprises used many innovative technologies, and he received a number of government contracts as a result. It would not be wrong to say that he was one of the early founders of the industrial revolution.

Revere outlived both of his wives, and a number of his children. He remained politically active until the end of his life. Revere’s contributions to American politics, art and culture were prolific, and for this we honor him today, the 207^th anniversary of his death in 1818.