Cambridge and the American Revolution

Cambridge and the American Revolution

This tour was written by Anna Gedal with the generous support of the Massachusetts Society of the
Cincinnati.

Introduction

Although there was never a declared Revolutionary battle fought on Cambridge soil, Cantabrigians witnessed more than their fair share of the war’s events. The town endured two military occupations, first by their own countrymen in the Continental Army, and later by their enemies, British General John Burgoyne and the Convention Troops. The town of Cambridge opposed early British parliamentary legislation and raised a militia. When it became clear a compromise could not be reached with Britain, and the pen was traded in for the sword, Cambridge generously contributed to the war effort. Cambridge citizens fought retreating Red Coats following the Battle of Lexington and Concord and later flocked to volunteer for the Revolutionary Cause.

The American Revolution did not start on the greens of Lexington and Concord when the Redcoats confronted a ragtag New England militia. It did not start in the streets of Boston when frustrated colonists threw snowballs at British soldiers and were met with gunfire. It did not start at Boston Harbor when resentful patriots dumped 342 chests of tea into the waters below. The seeds of revolution had been planted long before these famous events that we now identify as its first steps had even occurred, but the question remained of whether or not these seeds would ever grow. Revolution was not always desired or supported. Rather, it was met with contention, inspiring years of debate.

During this pre-Revolutionary era, Cambridge was a small town, consisting of approximately 1,500 inhabitants. Its residents were primarily from deeply religious New England families who had landed here over a hundred years prior. The town was unique on two counts. It was both the home of a local elite of prominent Tory families and the location of a distinguished higher education institution, Harvard College. Life for its people was typical of the times. Cambridge suffered through harsh New England winters, blistering summers, and small pox epidemics. Some of its wealthier citizens had African slaves. Even so, the slave population in Massachusetts remained relatively low in comparison to Mid-Atlantic and Southern colonies because affluent Northerners who profited off of the slave economy often owned immense sugar plantations in the Caribbean, where tremendous numbers of slaves lived, labored, and died.

The 1763 Peace of Paris that concluded the Seven Years’ War marked a new era in British-colonial relations. Since Prime Minister Robert Walpole’s lax enforcement of the Navigation Acts up to this point, the longstanding tradition of neglect, which had typified Britain’s relationship with the colonies and unofficially ensured relative autonomy of the local provincial governments, was now effectively over. The War had for the first time brought thousands of British soldiers to American shores, unavoidably highlighting the cultural divide between the British and the colonists that had arisen after generations of provincial settlement. The prominent Whig ideology coupled with the Massachusetts Puritan tradition left no place for the high culture of the British aristocracy common among the military elite. As British leaders arrogantly asserted their superiority, colonists quickly grew weary of their haughty leadership style. The provincials were therefore compelled to re-evaluate their place within the British imperial system.

With the peace, a strained relationship emerged. The British were convinced that the Americans had not paid adequately for the War, for British protection from internal and external enemies, or for the seemingly infinite unconquered American frontier. They reasoned that these provincials, as British subjects, should bear part of the British burden, and they planned to tax the colonies. However, American colonists who received no representation in Parliament, believed it was tyrannical for the British to tax them.

The victory also raised a series of daunting questions concerning the vast territories the British had acquired in the 1763 peace settlement. The government in London was forced to hastily devise a new system to defend and regulate all of its new land, while simultaneously struggling to control its mounting debt. This bureaucratic overhaul resulted in a more active British role in colonial life and politics. The new role was based on extracting resources from the colonies, enraging the provincials. The British did not fully understand the colonial political tradition that had been established during the earlier era of neglect. Their insensitivity and ignorance of it would give rise to problems, especially in the Massachusetts Bay Colony.

Locations

Abraham Watson House

The house was built in 1751 on what is now Massachusetts Avenue near the intersection of Rindge Avenue and Pemberton Street. In the mid-eighteenth century, it was moved to an address on what is now Sherman Street.

Abraham Watson was an established tanner. His obituary, published in the Boston Gazette, praised him as, “a gentleman of superior abilities, which early introduced him into public life, being honored with a commission for the peace, and much employed in the public affairs of the town, parish, and church. In the American Revolution, he took an early and decided part, representing the town in the Provincial Congress of the first General Court and in the Convention for forming the Constitution of the Commonwealth [of Massachusetts].” Additionally, he was a member of the Committee of Correspondence, a patriot communication network between towns that was utilized in the years leading up to the Revolution.

Elmwood

Elmwood, one of the seven Tory Row estates, was located furthest from Harvard Square. During pre-Revolutionary years, it was owned by Thomas Oliver who also served as the Lieutenant Governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony. After the death of Andrew Oliver, an earlier Lieutenant Governor, Thomas Oliver had been appointed to the position by the English Crown because George III believed him to the be Andrew Olivers’ brother. Thomas Oliver would be the last Royal Lieutenant Governor of Massachusetts Bay Colony.

The Coercive Acts of 1774 was a controversial series of parliamentary legislation that was intended to punish the rebellious Bostonians for the Boston Tea Party of 1773. It effectively closed the Port of Boston and dissolved colonial government, replacing it with a royally-appointed governing body named the Mandamus Council. Cambridge appointees included Oliver, along with Judges Samuel Danforth and Joseph Lee.

In September of that year, the Powder House Alarm brought a crowd of 4,000 colonists to Cambridge Common. Frustrated by Governor Gage’s expedition to legally remove the colonial gunpowder stores from the Charlestown Powderhouse (located in modern-day Somerville’s Powderhouse Square), and institute the Intolerable Acts, the mob marched down Brattle Street calling for the immediate resignation of the three Mandamus Council appointees.

Hearing news of a crowd surrounding General William Brattle’s mansion, Oliver traveled to Boston to speak with Governor Gage. He feared that Gage might dispatch troops to suppress the uprising and set off an open armed struggle. In due course, Oliver returned to Cambridge and was able to calm the crowds and returned to his house. However, later that day, a despised tax collector, Benjamin Hallowell, rode past the crowd in his private carriage. Within a few minutes 160 men on horseback were in full pursuit.

This excitement agitated the crowds and they soon marched down Brattle Street and surrounded Lt. Governor Oliver’s house, demanding his resignation. He stepped down, saying: “My house in Cambridge being surrounded by about four thousand people in compliance with their commands I sign my name.”

Like other Tory Row properties, Elmwood was seized by the patriots during the Revolution. It was converted into a hospital, which treated wounded and ill soldiers throughout the Siege of Boston. It was also the place where Benedict Arnold stayed when he visited Cambridge during the Siege.

Daniel Watson House

Daniel Watson was the son of Abraham Watson. Daniel was a professional currier, who served as a private in the Continental Army during the Revolutionary War. The house where he lived with his wife, Anna, was built in 1757, and located on what is now the Corner of North Avenue and Russell Street in North Cambridge. In 1965, it was moved from its original location to a plot on Massachusetts Avenue, where it still stands today.

Ruggles-Fayerweather House

This property was partially named after its founder, George Ruggles who was thought to have originated from Jamaica. Like many Cambridge Tories, his wealth came from family-owned Caribbean plantations. In the 1770s, facing debtors, Ruggles sold the property to Thomas Fayerweather. Unlike Ruggles who likely escaped to England before the outbreak of the Revolution, Fayerweather’s political leanings were unknown. The summer after the Battle of Lexington and Concord and the Battle of Bunker Hill, the mansion was contributed to the Revolutionary Cause; it was utilized as a hospital, treating wounded and sick Continental soldiers. The family moved to another estate they owned in Oxford Mass. Following the evacuation of the British from Boston and the departure of the Continental Army, the Fayerweather family reclaimed the property.

Hooper-Lee-Nichols House

Built in 1685, the Hooper-Lee-Nichols house is the second oldest house in Cambridge. During the pre-Revolutionary era, it was owned by Joseph Lee who had purchased the property in 1758. Lee was a Harvard graduate who made his fortune as a merchant and land spectator. Although he was denied re-election to the Massachusetts House of Representatives in 1766, and rejected as “unfit” from a permanent appointment in the Court of Common Pleas in 1769, Judge Lee was chosen by the English Crown to serve on the Mandamus Council, a royal governing body that usurped power from the local government as a condition of the 1774 Coercive Acts.

However, in September of 1774, when Gage’s mission to legally withdraw the colony’s gunpowder stores from the Charlestown Powderhouse went awry, an angry mob of 4,000 provincials gathered on Cambridge Common to protest that incident and the Intolerable Acts, themselves. Armed only with sticks, the frustrated colonists marched down Brattle Street, demanding the resignation of the Cambridge members of the Mandamus Council, including Joseph Lee. Giving into the demands of the mob, Lee resigned from his post almost immediately and soon after fled Cambridge with the other loyalists of Tory Row.

In 1777, Lee returned to Cambridge and demanded the return of his property. The Siege of Boston that had ended in March of 1776, marked the end of the Continental Army’s occupation of Cambridge, and Lee’s estate was returned to his care.

Lechmere-Sewall-Riedesel House

Richard Lechmere, who was the proprietor of Lechmere Point in East Cambridge, originally owned the property. In the years leading up to the Revolution, the Lechmere-Sewall-Riedesel house was the home to Jonathan Sewall, the last Attorney General under Royal British leadership. After the Powder House Alarm of 1774, the Cambridge Tories, felt threatened because of their loyalist stance, and almost all fled to other properties either in England, the Caribbean, or to the area surrounding Boston. 

Like the other estates, after Jonathan Sewall’s departure, patriot leaders seized his mansion and its grounds. When captured British General John Burgoyne and his 5,700 Convention Troops arrived in Cambridge as a condition of the Saratoga Convention, the leader of the Germanic mercenaries– also known as Hessians – Baron Von Riedesel, and his wife, the Baroness, were allowed to live in this mansion. However, the mansion was left unfurnished. Much to their own dismay and at their own expense, they were forced to furnish it.

Although they were prisoners of war, the Baroness reflected fondly upon her time in Cambridge. The Riedesel house, as it was known, became the center of Hessian social life. Today, little remains of their stay other than an etched signature in a windowpane that the Baroness was said to have made with her diamond ring.

Vassall-Craigie-Longfellow House

Once extending from the Harvard University Observatory to the banks of the Charles River, the 107-acre Vassall estate stretched across prime Cambridge real estate. John Vassall Sr. was the brother of Henry Vassall, who built the Vassall House across the street, and married first Elizabeth Phipps and then Lucy Barron. His only son, John Vassall Jr., entered Harvard College in 1753, came of age in 1759, and built this Georgian-style mansion in 1759. In 1761 he married Elizabeth Oliver, sister of Lt. Governor Thomas Oliver. Thomas Oliver married Vassall’s sister, Elizabeth, so they were double brothers-in-law. 

Following the Powder Alarm of 1774 and the harsh treatment of Lt. Governor Oliver, John Vassall, his wife, 5 sons and 1 daughter feared for their lives and moved into Boston where his youngest son died. He went to Halifax in 1775, and he and Thomas Oliver and their families sailed with the British troops who evacuated Boston to London in 1776. He died in Clifton, England on 2 October, 1797.

Beyond the Vassalls, this property has quartered several famous Americans. In the nineteenth century, it was the home of celebrated poet, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, who most notably immortalized the patriot in his famous poem “Paul Revere’s Ride.” But before the United States was establish, when the American colonies were in the throws of a revolutionary uprising, this mansion quartered the future first president, General George Washington. When he arrived in Cambridge on July 2, 1775, Washington was initially accommodated in the house of the President of Harvard College. However, he considered the arrangement unsatisfactory. Two days later, John Vassall’s estate was, “…ordered by Congress for the residence of his excellency General Washington [and], should be immediately put in such a condition as may make it convenient for that purpose.” John’s mansion served as the home and headquarters of General Washington throughout the Siege of Boston. He left the house on April 4, 1776.

George Washington was the first President of the United States, celebrated military genius and hero, as well as the first national icon. He was admired for his fearless, stoic demeanor that inspired colonists and soldiers alike in the darkest hours of the American Revolution. He was treated more like a king than a general and more like a god than a man. Washington was bestowed the grand title of “His Excellency,” an anomaly in the revolutionary epoch that wholeheartedly condemned monarchy and all its formalities. Following the Revolution, Washington’s image became omnipresent; it was reproduced more times than anyone else’s has ever been, displayed on everything from soap-ads to dollar bills. History portrays him as a rare figure in a rare era whose career was untainted by scandals, miscalculations, or virtually any mistakes. American legend suggests that he was incapable of telling a lie. However, Washington was a much more complex and much more human figure than he has been credited to be.

Washington’s social rank was comparable to that of the Cambridge Tories. He was raised to be extremely conscious of class and status, believing that only well-educated gentlemen, not women, could be truly free. In the eighteenth century, the definition of a gentleman was more specific than many modern Hollywood dramatizations. It involved receiving an explicit education in classical and enlightened thought, as well as possessing enough money to allow for the outward appearance of disengagement from business, since it was seen as ungentlemanly to be actively involved in trade. Even so, Chesapeake planters like George Washington were the closest American colonial equivalent of gentlemen. 

Washington did not believe that all people were born equal, and he thought it natural to perpetuate the existing patriarchal structure of social and racial inequity. From a tender age, he was taught a specific method of how to treat social inferiors, once writing, “To treat them civilly is no more than what all men are entitled to but my advice to you is to keep them at a proper distance; for they will grow upon familiarity, in proportion as you sink into authority.” During this era and for his status, it was common to support slavery. He owned many slaves throughout his lifetime, but during the Revolution began to reconsider his stance on the issue. However, as Washington championed the revolutionary rhetoric proponing freedom from the chains of British tyranny, he, as well as most Revolutionary leaders, continued to profit from chattel slavery. Washington did eventually acknowledge the hypocrisy of the practice. But, acknowledging the hypocrisy was a purely symbolic gesture. When he died in 1799, he still owned 331 slaves. In his lifetime, he opted to free only one, whom he considered a companion, friend, and advisor. His name was William Lee. He was known for his impressive horseback riding skills and his bravery. While in Cambridge, the two were often seen trotting around town on horseback. Lee fought gallantly alongside Washington in countless battles, and for his courage, Washington rewarded Lee with his freedom.

On June 15, 1775, the Continental Congress met in Philadelphia to discuss who would replace General Gardner as the Commander In Chief of the Continental Forces. General Gardner had been mortally wounded in the Battle of Bunker Hill, but did not die until almost a month later. Meanwhile, the Congress voted on Gardner’s successor. Contrary to popular belief, General Washington was not everyone’s top choice. Considering their active participation in resistance to British authority, New England patriots thought one of their own should lead the troops. Still others sought a more traditional leader, and thus believed a former British officer would be best. Owing much to the fact that he was independently wealthy, had military experience as a Virginian, –not as a Southerner or a New Englander –and possessed a resigned calm, Washington was named the Commander In Chief of the Continental Army. Upon hearing the news, he turned to his fellow patriot, Patrick Henry, who only several months prior had orated the famous “Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death” speech, and announced, “Remember, Mr. Henry what I now tell you: from the day I enter upon the command of the American armies, I date my fall, and the ruin of my reputation.”

Throughout the American Revolution, George Washington was lauded for his composure, unwavering dedication, and ability to rally the troops. He was by no means a brilliant military strategist, losing more battles than he won. But despite failure, he managed to keep the soldiers’ morale high.

Behind the scenes Washington was truly one of the most selfless leaders in history whose principles and values dictated his actions. During the December Crisis of 1776, when troop enthusiasm and enlistment plummeted, and Philadelphia was conquered by British Forces, the Continental Congress thought it best to reconsider the decision-making structure. Although controversial and seemingly dangerous, on December 12, 1776 the Continental Congress bestowed upon Washington dictatorial powers for a short period of time. To this declaration, Washington responded, “It may be said that this is an application for Powers that are too dangerous to be intrusted. I can only add that desperate diseases required desperate remedies.”  After being given total authority and with the army behind him, Washington gave it all back to the Congress. It was a true testament to his dedication to the Revolutionary Cause and its virtues. He did not desire power, he desired freedom for himself and his countrymen.

Henry and Penelope Vassall House

This mansion was built in 1746 for Henry Vassall. Its residents, Henry Vassall and his wife, Penelope Royall Vassall, were known as the biggest spenders of the Tory Row families. Henry Vassall was the son of a prominent Jamaican planter. He had come to Boston to enjoy its social and educational opportunities. Henry managed to squander much of his inheritance on this opulent property and accompanying lavish lifestyle. The Vassalls established a luxurious estate lauded for its access the town center while offering its owners an air of “rural peace.” They enslaved two people, and five servants, as well as formal orchards and gardens. The estate included courtyards, horse stables, and a coach-house containing a slew of top-of-the-line carriages. They lived a life full of material wealth and aristocratic splendor. Despite their fortune, Henry was described by one of the people he enslaved as, “…a very wicked man. He was a gamester and spent a great deal of money in cards and lived at the rate of seven years in three, and managed to run out nearly all his property. He was a severe and tart master to his people, and when he was dying asked his servants to pray for him. They answered he might pray for himself.”

Henry died in 1769 of a “lingering illness,” though his wife remained here until 1775 when she fled with other Tories, fearing a colonial rebellion. As increasingly radical rhetoric inspired a rash of colonial resistance to British authority, the Tories’ prescribed role in local society came into question. By 1774, although the future of the resistance to British authority remained uncertain, the seven families knew very well that they had fallen out of the locals’ favor. All of their imported European luxuries and grand estates would have to be abandoned for the sake of their lives.

After Penelope Royall Vassall vacated the estate, the local Committee of Correspondence seized it. The Committee converted it into the central hospital for the Continental Army during the Siege of Boston.

That same year, the Continental Congress at Philadelphia named Benjamin Church, a Harvard graduate and admired Boston physician, the first Surgeon-General of the Continental Army, which was then stationed in Cambridge. Church inhabited the residence only for a few months before he was accused of treason.

For some time, those around him began suspecting Church of consorting with the British. On March 4, 1774, on the eve of the anniversary of the Boston Massacre, British Royal Governor, Thomas Gage, begged John Hancock and Dr. Church not to rouse the Boston masses through public celebration. The patriots refused to back down. Despite the unapologetic patriotism of his speech calling the British soldiers murderers and the American colonists to arms, Church agreed to a private meeting with Governor Gage the following week. In that meeting, Gage supposedly offered Church 3,000 pounds in exchange for his loyalty. Shortly after, Church’s bookkeeper noted that, “all at once he [Church] had several hundred new British guineas.” Although these allegations of bribery are based on hearsay, it was the first of many events that led fellow patriots to question Dr. Church’s devotion to the Glorious Cause.

Years after the fiasco, the legendary Paul Revere commented on Dr. Church, asserting, “…I must say, that I never thought him a man of principle; and I doubted much in my own mind, whether he was a real whig.” Despite Revere’s skepticism, one must understand that Dr. Church’s resume spoke for itself. He was a seasoned Son of Liberty, member of the Provincial Congress, and head of the Committee for Public Safety. Dr. Church treated colonists wounded in the Boston Massacre. He was a published patriot who explicitly mocked the King of England and opposed the Stamp Act. Even so, it was suspected that he also responded to his own articles as an anonymous Tory in support of the motherland. In spite of many patriots’ hunches about Dr. Church’s treachery, the Continental Congress entrusted him with the distinguished position of Surgeon-General of the Continental Army. Dr. Church emphasized that many were jealous of his coveted position, which may well have been the source of the accusations. He desired to resign before he was indicted for any crimes, but his request was denied.

It was later discovered that throughout his time in Cambridge, he was in correspondence with the then head of the British forces, and former Royal Governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, General Thomas Gage. Patriots never intercepted any of his letters to General Gage. However, one of his encoded letters to another British military official, Major Cane was intercepted, warranting his arrest. The discovered letter was not a smoking gun, failing to provide irrefutable evidence of his treason. He was still convicted but sentenced only to a Connecticut jail where he was forbidden from writing. Church was later brought back to the Massachusetts Bay Colony where he remained incarcerated until 1778, when Congress decided he was no longer a serious risk and exiled him to an island in the West Indies and, “…threatened [him] with death in case he shod ever return.” It is unlikely that the vessel carrying Church ever made it to the Caribbean. He was never heard from nor seen again.

The saga of Benjamin Church highlights a key complexity in the American Revolution. In 1775, many American colonists still felt very strong ties to Britain that they were not willing to sever. Following the discovery of his correspondence with the British, Benjamin Church was thoroughly vilified as a British spy. But to simply cast him off as a devilish traitor would be selling him short. Although Dr. Church’s loyalty may have been bought by the British, his struggle to choose a side in the Revolution and entirely condemn the other, was a struggle shared by many colonists. The decision to be a loyalist or a patriot was not always clear-cut and tore many provincial families apart. Even the Founding Father, Benjamin Franklin, faced this heart-wrenching dilemma when his son, William, the Royal Governor of New Jersey, refused to reconsider his unwavering loyalty to British Crown. It can be said that the American Revolution prompted a colonial identity crisis. Despite some provincials’ reservations, with the battles of Lexington and Concord and Bunker Hill, it became increasingly clear that a compromise would not be reached through diplomacy.

In a letter to General Gage, Dr. Church illustrates the provincials’ frustration with the British leadership and his own uncertainty about the future of the American colonies, “There is a general revolt of all the Colonies, and sorry I am to say that a temper of submission and accommodation undr the present claims of Britain is nowhere to be found in the Country, some expect redress from the confusion taking place in Britain & seem assured of the Ministers fall, others as sanguinely expect the resentment of Britain and already enjoy success and independence, tho’ there are but few that wish the latter but should hostilities be long continued, & present demands insisted upon I am fearfull of the event, may I never see the day when I shall not dare to call myself a British American.”

The Washington Elm

American legend has it that here on July 3, 1775, George Washington took command of the Continental Army. Whether or not this is actually true, the Washington Elm has since been revered and visited by generations of Americans following the Revolution. The tree that originally stood in what is now the intersection of Mason Street and Garden Street but came crashing down in a 1923 storm. The elm was dismembered and parts of its trunk were shipped all over the nation, to state capitals, to local and national governmental offices, and to prominent people. Memorabilia was crafted from its wood, and scions, like the one that stands here today, were cultivated and planted all over the country.

But the Washington Elm was a symbol of a much larger trend in American history. After the colonies became states and the British provincials became Americans, and after the failure of the Articles of Confederation and the ratification of the Constitution, the future of the United States remained uncertain. What had begun as a radical experiment in republican and enlightened thought, had to now be applied to a troubling unfolding reality. As the post-Revolution economic depression set in and party conflict threatened political unity, the fragile young nation was tested. Although the Founding Fathers were compelled to compromise their original vision, they did not abandon the revolutionary principles that they had fought so hard to uphold. But a very basic question remained: what did it mean to be an American?

Americanism was not forced upon the public by its leaders. Americanism, like the Revolution itself, emerged from meetinghouses, merchant houses, farmhouses, and state houses, and from a complex, rocky relationship between the different regions. Although we now take it for granted, the very basic ideas upon which our government and our identity as Americans is based were envisioned, fought for, and implemented by our not-so-distant ancestors. Monuments, like the Washington Elm, were a part of this process, contributing to the creation of a uniquely American identity.

The Cambridge Common

Cambridge Common was established in 1630 as a component of the original town plans. In the seventeenth century, popular farming techniques necessitated a common area of undivided land. At that time, this included woodlots as well as ox, sheep, and cow pastures. The Cambridge Common, which stretched from the Burying Ground in Harvard Square to Linnaean Street, was actively used as a communal cow pasture and comprised approximately 85 acres. Throughout the early 1770s, it was also the site of local militia training and drills. It was at the Common that the enraged crowd of 4,000 gathered in 1774 response to the Powder Alarm.

On the fateful night of April 18, 1775, it was William Dawes, Paul Revere’s less famous patriot contemporary, who rode through the Common en route to Concord, warning Cantabridgians of the encroaching British soldiers. Having landed on Lechmere Point in East Cambridge, they were marching toward Concord to arrest the patriot leaders, Samuel Adams and John Hancock, and seize the munitions in the Concord Powderhouse. The next day, a column of British reinforcements led by Lord Percy, also passed through the Common en route to Concord.

After the Battle of Lexington and Concord, New England militias gathered on the Common and camped out, waiting for their next orders. By two days, 10,000 patriots had arrived, and in the following months more brigades from other colonies trickled in. Thousands of men offered their support to the Revolutionary Cause. These men were passionate civilians not soldiers Many lacked proper training. The amateurish military ability of the American forces was a problem that necessitated a quick solution. Washington himself confessed, “I daresay the Men [of the Continental Forces] would fight very well (if properly Officered) although they are exceedingly dirty and nasty people.”

On July 3, 1775, American legend has it that Washington took command of the Continental Army under an elm tree on the Common. The tree was blown down in a 1923 storm, but a scion of the famous tree still stands at an alternative site in the Common today, and a plaque commemorating the original location of the tree can be found in the intersection of Mason and Garden streets.

Following the Battle of Lexington and Concord, as the numbers of soldiers grew, a slew of makeshift barracks, huts, and tents popped up across Cambridge Common. The conditions were deplorable and the stench of too many men in one place hung heavily in the air. People who had never left their own villages were now brought together into this mix. Predictably, as these men lived side by side in close, provisional quarters, regional conflicts soon arose.

In a letter to his brother, Washington revealed his misgivings, “I believe I may, with great truth affirm, that no Man perhaps since the first Institution of Armys ever commanded one under more difficult Circumstances than I have done – to enumerate the particulars would fill volume – man of my difficulties and distresses were of so peculiar a cast that in order to conceal them from the Enemy, I was obliged to conceal them from my friends, indeed from my own Army.”On March 17, 1776, when the British evacuated Boston and the Siege was officially over, Washington and the Continental Army made preparations for evacuating Cambridge, as well.

Harvard College

Since its founding in 1636, Harvard has been an integral part of Cambridge. During the Revolutionary era, it was comprised of five buildings: Holden Chapel and four halls named Massachusetts, Harvard, Hollis, and  Stoughton. Harvard Hall housed classrooms, two open quadrangles, and the College’s Unitarian Church. The College employed ten faculty members including its president. The Class of 1771 consisted of 63 graduates.

The collegiate structure was different then than it is today. The students, all males, ranged in age from eleven or twelve years old to the late twenties. The curriculum was rigid and electives were virtually unheard of. Scholars were taught Greek, Latin, mathematics, as well as physical and social science. By this point, not all students were training to be ministers; many went on to enter an array of professions. All were from New England; most were from well off families, though not  necessarily “provincial aristocracy” like the Cambridge Tories.

Like many other communities in the early 1770s, Harvard College established its own militia. Once the War broke out, it offered its soldiers to the Revolutionary Cause. However, they were rejected and instructed instead to fulfill a higher calling of pursuing their education. Before bullets flew, cannons were fired, and lives were sacrificed, the Harvard campus was afflicted with its own tensions. Though its loyalist population was small, it did still exist. In early 1775, only a year after the Boston Tea Party, two Harvard students, in a provocative act, brought tea to the dining hall for breakfast. Enraged patriotic students reacted by breaking dishes. It is unclear whether or not a full-fledged fistfight ensued, but tea was subsequently banned from all meals. At the same time, Harvard Hall continued to feature a monumental portrait of King George III and his wife, Queen Charlotte.

On the historic day of April 19, 1775, a brigade of British troops en route to Lexington to fight the colonists in the first battle of the American Revolution lost their way and ended up in Cambridge. In a defiant act that put him at odds with the entire Harvard Community, a faculty member, Isaac Smith, gave the soldiers directions. By 1775, the colonists’ contempt for British soldiers had grown fierce. Considering that Cantabridgians officially declared tea drinkers enemies of the colony, one can image how they reacted to Isaac Smith’s deed; he was forced to flee to Boston.

After Harvard was evacuated on May 1st of 1775, it was taken over by the Committee of Public Safety. The five buildings housed 1,680 soldiers in total, which was at the time greater than the entire population of Cambridge. When supplies dwindled, half a ton of lead from a roof was melted down for bullets. Some furniture and floorboards were used as firewood. The president of Harvard’s home also served as the temporary headquarters of George Washington. But after four days, he deemed it unsatisfactory and moved into a Tory Row estate for the rest of his time in Cambridge.

In October of 1775, classes resumed. Ironically, they had been moved to Concord, which was then deemed safer than Cambridge even after the very first battle of the Revolution was fought there, and no battle was ever fought in Cambridge. When classes resumed, not all the students decided to return. Many instead had joined the patriotic cause, fighting for their rights as Englishmen.

The Revolution itself changed the course of the lives every American colonist, presenting many hardships, and sacrifices that they had not imaged they would ever face. For Harvard graduates, it also presented new professional opportunities. The young nation desperately needed educated minds to lead it. Of the Revolutionary classes who graduated between 1775 and 1777, over 20% went into public service. The Harvard graduate, Reverend Huntington Porter orated, “If we confine our views to the last half century…O how great and wonderful are many of the changes that have occurred, not only in the world at large, or in our own country, but even in a single town, family, or individual.” 

Jonathan Hastings House

Jonathan Hastings was a Cantabridgian and impassioned patriot who contributed his house to the Revolutionary Cause. He graduated Harvard College in 1730, after which he served as a steward there for over thirty years. In 1750, Hastings married Elizabeth Cotton.

Following the Battle of Lexington and Concord, the Committee for Public Safety met in his house to discuss the proper course of action against the British. It was here that General Artemas Ward was selected to be the Commander In Chief of the arriving New England militias that had began assembling on the Cambridge Common following the battle. Hastings’ house served as General Ward’s headquarters throughout the Siege of Boston.

Dawes Island

As many British leaders, General Thomas Gage, Royal Governor and Commander In Chief of His Majesty’s Forces in the New World was under the impression that the American colonists were good Englishmen who had been indoctrinated by a group of radical, patriot leaders. He was convinced that if the rebel leaders were suppressed, resistance to the British authority would simply cease to exist. Thus, in an effort to reestablish “order,” Gage planned to arrest patriots John Hancock and Samuel Adams, and disarm the colonists in Concord. However, in this he systematically underestimated the caliber and organizational level of the American leadership.

On April 18, 1775, General stationed soldiers, who had been instructed to intercept patriot messengers, throughout the colony. Their presence alone raised the alarm that the British were up to something. Rumors of Gage’s plans for Concord had spread, and that night, Paul Revere and William Dawes rode on horseback to each village and town to warn citizens of the incoming British troops. William Dawes, not Paul Revere, rode through Cambridge past the Old Burying Ground en route to Concord. It is likely that Dawes was chosen for the mission because of his occupation. As a respected tanner and patriot, he periodically traveled through British checkpoints and knew many of the British guards. Thus, his ride would not raise suspicion.

Royal forces first landed in the East Cambridge swamps at Lechmere Point and marched toward Concord. The following day, two separate British units marched through the town in broad daylight; they were met with no resistance.Dawes Island is a memorial commemorating the historic midnight ride of William Dawes and Paul Revere on the eve of the first battle of the Revolution. Their famous ride was a success, warning Samuel Adams, John Hancock, and the provincials of the incoming British advance.

Harvard Square

Since Cambridge’s original settlement in the early seventeenth century, Harvard Square has been the town center. It has served as the commercial, cultural, and political hub. Throughout the centuries, its businesses have provided Cantabridgians with an array of goods. Restaurants have shared exotic and local cuisines, and cafes and taverns have offered a place to discuss politics.

During pre-Revolutionary period, the Cambridge Meetinghouse openly protested British Parliamentary legislation. On its courthouse steps, Judges Joseph Lee and Samuel Danforth, Cambridge members of the infamous Mandamus Council –a royal governing body that usurped power from local government –both dramatically resigned in 1774. During the Revolution, the Meetinghouse was where citizens unanimously voted in support of the Declaration of Independence before it was officially signed on July 4, 1776.

The Old Burying Ground

The Old Burying Ground is the final resting place for a collection of local Revolutionary figures who gave their lives to the Cause including two African-American patriots, Cato Steadman and Neptune Frost. The idea of permanent burial plots is relatively recent. In previous centuries, when graves were left unkempt, they were acknowledged as free for the taking. Thus, it is estimated that the Old Burying Ground has eight times as many bodies as it does headstones.

After the Battle of Lexington and Concord, the British retreat to Boston claimed many lives, possibly even more than the battle. Embittered citizens armed themselves and attacked the fleeing troops as they marched back to Boston. Six Cantabridgians sacrificed their lives that day, not in battle, but in this vicious retreat. Of those six, three are buried here. Jabez Wyman and Jason Winship were enjoying a drink at Cooper’s Tavern, when retreating British soldiers attacked. Mrs. Cooper reported, “the King’s regular troops under the command of General Gage, upon their return from blood and slaughter, which they had made at Lexington and Concord, fired more than one hundred bullets into the house where we dwell, through doors, and windows,…The two aged gentlemen were immediately most barbarously and inhumanly murdered by them, being stabbed through in many places, their heads mangled, skulls broke, and their brains out on the floor and walls of the house.”John Hicks and Moses Richardson, the only known Cambridge participants in the Boston Tea Party, were shot as they waited to attack passing soldiers. William Marcy, who was said to have been a man of “feeble intellect,” mistook the marching soldiers for a military parade. As he looked on excitedly, a British guard shot him dead. William Marcy, John Hicks, and Moses Richardson were buried here, while Jason Russell, Jabez Wyman, and Jason Winship were buried in what is now Arlington. A tower monument was erected in their honor and is located in the middle of the graveyard.

Christ Church

Christ Church is the oldest standing church in Cambridge. Although today its design may look simple and understated, during the pre-Revolutionary era, the building was notorious for its garishness. Originally constructed in 1759 to resemble a typical English Anglican church, it drew mostly loyalist parishioners. However, when the wealthy band of Tories fled Cambridge in 1775, their church, just as their houses, was abandoned. 

With the Tories gone, Christ Church quickly fell into a state of disrepair. The Town of Cambridge and its inhabitants had little money to spare, and what little they had was not to be squandered on restoring the loyalist church. This was true, until late in 1775 when preparations were to be made for a service requested by none other than Martha Washington herself. On New Year’s Eve of 1775, Christ Church temporarily reopened its doors. In an elite ceremony, General George Washington, Martha, and several other high ranking officials with their wives prayed together that King George III would come to his senses and, “…Open his eyes and enlighten his understanding, that he may pursue the true interest of the people over whom Thou in thy Providence hast placed him. Remove far from him all wicked, corrupt men, and evil counselors, that his throne may be established in justice and righteousness.” But, King George III never did come to his senses. After this service, the church’s pulpit was shutdown and, as virtually all other forsaken buildings, was converted into barracks for Continental soldiers. Part of its organ was melted down for bullets.

In October of 1777, the British General, John Burgoyne and his 5,700-man column were surrounded by Continental Forces near Saratoga, New York. As a condition of the settlement, this mix of British and hired Germanic Hessian troops were to be marched to Cambridge where they would be held as prisoners of war.

Their arrival presented a complicated situation. Cambridge citizens considered these soldiers the “enemy,” thus when asked to quarter them in their very own homes, they simply refused. The question of where to lodge them became a serious dilemma because Cantabridgians made no effort to hide their animosity towards the incoming British forces.

As tensions rose, violence erupted on the afternoon of June 17, 1778 and a British officer, Lt. Richard Browne, was shot in the head and killed by a colonial guard after disobeying his orders. Charges were brought against the perpetrator, however, he was acquitted by a jury of fifteen Cambridge men. At this point, General Burgoyne had been given permission to leave Cambridge and had left the British and Hessian troops under the command of William Phillips. Phillips requested that Lt. Richard Brown be given a proper funeral service and one was held in Christ Church. However, enraged Cambridge residents protested their displeasure by breaking into the church during the service, a British eyewitness reported, “…the Americans seized the opportunity of the church being open, which had been shut since the commencement of hostilities, to plunder, ransack, and deface every thing they could lay their hands on, destroying the pulpit, reading-desk, and communion-table, and ascending the organ loft, destroyed the bellows and broke all the pipes of a very handsome instrument.”

James Reed House

James Reed was a Cantabridgian who fought in both the French and Indian War and the American Revolution. He was a tanner by trade, and the house where he once lived with his wife and their children still stands today.

William Brattle House

The Brattle House is now the Cambridge Center for Adult Education, but in the pre-Revolutionary era it was the home of William Brattle Jr.. At the time of his death, General-Major Brattle was one of the wealthiest men in the Massachusetts Bay Colony. He was a decorated military figure who fought in the French and Indian War or the Seven Years’ War. Like many of his fellow loyalists, Brattle attended Harvard College. In 1727, several years after completing his degree, he had this mansion built.

He was the son of William Brattle and the nephew of Thomas Brattle, who founded Brattle Street Church in Boston, a prominent Congregational then Unitarian house of worship whose members included the Hancocks and the Adamses among other leading Boston families. Although in the 1770s, William Brattle was called a “fence-straddler” for simultaneously appeasing patriots while supporting the British. The Powder Alarm of 1774 revealed where his true allegiance lay.

Brattle was instrumental in the Powder Alarm. In the autumn of 1774, convinced that Cantabrigians were plotting to steal the remaining colony-owned powder from the Charlestown Powder house (which still stands in modern day Somerville), William Brattle informed Thomas Gage, the Commander In Chief and Royal Governor of Massachusetts Bay, of his apprehension about the gunpowder and the build-up of local militias. Brattle’s letter to Gage was lost and later found by a patriot who subsequently published it in a popular Boston newspaper.

Instead of quietly investigating the powderhouse inventory, Gage gathered 300 troops and sailed to Charlestown on a “secret” mission with the objective of seizing the remaining barrels. Removing the powder was fully within his jurisdiction as the governor of the colony, however, he misjudged the provincials’ reaction. The colonists perceived this operation as a provocative measure, and as an unwarranted exhibition of royal power.

By the following morning, approximately 4,000 people gathered on Cambridge Common. Patriot leaders utilized the power of the assembled crowd to protest their grievances. They then demanded the resignation of Lieutenant Governor Thomas Oliver, as well as Judges Samuel Danforth and Joseph Lee who were all members of the Mandamus Council. Oliver presumed that Governor Gage would send troops to suppress the mob, and feared the potential violent confrontation. In an effort to prevent an armed conflict, he traveled to Boston to speak with General Gage. In due course, Oliver returned to Cambridge, with assurances that Gage would not send troops. However, a despised tax collector, Benjamin Hallowell, rode past the crowd and within a few minutes men on horseback were in full pursuit.

Although the incidents of the day did not spark the revolution, the Tories of Cambridge felt unsafe and moved to Boston and later many went on to Canada or England as the conflict intensified.

After the Battle of Lexington and Concord, the abandoned Tory properties were occupied by patriots. During the Siege of Boston, the Brattle mansion was the headquarters of the Commissary General, Thomas Mifflin, who was often visited by John and Abigail Adams, as well as General George Washington.

Hannah Winthrop House

During pre-Revolutionary times, Hannah Winthrop, born Hannah Fayerweather, lived in Cambridge on the corner of Mount Auburn and John F. Kennedy streets with her second husband, John Winthrop. John was a professor at Harvard College who taught mathematics and natural sciences. As a wealthy woman in Cambridge, Hannah corresponded by letter with other ladies of her social rank. Her colorful correspondence with other well-known women including Mercy Otis Warren and Abigail Adams painted a vivid picture of Cambridge life preceding and during the American Revolution. Her letters captured the difficult realities of her time and circumstance. Following the battle of Lexington and Concord, Winthrop documented the chaos that ensued, “Not knowing what the event would be at Cambridge at the return of these bloody ruffians, and seeing another brigade dispatched to the assistance of the former, looking with the ferocity of barbarians, it seemed necessary to retire to some place of safety till the calamity was passed…We were directed to a place called Fresh Pond, about a mile from the town, but what a distressed house did we find it, filled with women whose husbands had gone forth to meet the assailants, seventy or eighty of these, with numbers of infant children, weeping and agonizing for the fate of their husbands.”

The Blue Anchor Tavern

In the eighteenth century, the Blue Anchor Tavern was a popular watering hole where citizens came to discuss politics.

In October of 1777, the British General, John Burgoyne and his 5,700-man column were surrounded by Continental Forces near Saratoga, New York. As a condition of the settlement terms, these soldiers, a mix of British and hired German troops known as Hessians, would be marched to Cambridge where they were held as prisoners of war.

However, their arrival presented a complicated situation. Although Cambridge saw little battle within its borders, it experienced an overwhelming economic devastation. The Convention Troops, as Burgoyne’s troops were called, were the second military group brought to Cambridge during the Revolution. Cambridge citizens considered these soldiers the “enemy.” Thus, when asked to quarter them in their very own homes, they simply refused. The question of where to lodge these soldiers became pressing and as Cantabridgians made no effort to hide their animosity towards the incoming British forces. The British officials were horrified by the arrangements made for them when even the highest-ranking officers were left temporarily homeless. General Burgoyne was compelled to be a boarder at the Blue Anchor Tavern until he was able to convince the Cambridge leadership to move him into the Apthorp House, a mansion known for its opulence. However, after moving into the Apthorp House, he was forced to purchase his all own furniture and pay rent to the patriots.

John Hicks House

John Hicks was a seasoned patriot and one of only two known Cantabridgians participants in the Boston Tea Party. On April 19, 1775, after the Battle of Lexington and Concord, the British soldiers marched in full retreat toward Boston. Along the road back to the city, many provincials attacked the Red Coats, unleashing years of pent-up frustration. These skirmishes often resulted in hand-to-hand combat, sometimes to the death.

On the afternoon of April 19th, John Hicks along with Moses Richardson, and Isaac Gardner, hid behind some barrels at Watson’s Corner in what is now North Cambridge. They were launching a surprise attack on the retreating British. Fire was exchanged, and it was said that Hicks was shot through the heart. Richardson and Gardner were also killed.

After Hicks had failed to return home, his wife sent their son out looking for him. It was he who discovered his father’s body along with that of Richardson and Gardner along the side of the road. Hicks was buried in the Old Burying Ground along with two other Cambridge patriots who fell that day after encountering the retreating British.

The Great Bridge

In the pre-Revolutionary era, the Great Bridge was the only bridge connecting Boston and Cambridge. Although it no longer stands today, the Larz-Anderson Bridge near Harvard Square is located where the Great Bridge once stood. However, unlike the modern bridge, the Great Bridge was built of wood planks. Being the only passage between Boston and Cambridge, it was much wider than the Larz-Anderson constructed over a free-flowing Charles River before it was dammed.

On the night of April 18, 1775, on the eve of the first battle of the American Revolution, Cantabridgians got word of the encroaching British troops and flocked to the Great Bridge. Being the only connecter between the city and town, they knew that dismembering it would, in the very least, delay the British soldiers on their march to Concord. However, being prudent individuals, the Cambridge citizens did not destroy the wooden planks of the Great Bridge; they simply laid them on the side of the road. The British merely re-placed the planks and continued on their way.

Following the Lexington battle, as the British retreated toward Boston, the Cambridge militia, under the command of General Heath, secured the Bridge in preparation for the fleeing soldiers’ march to Boston. Their second attempt to impede the British was much more successful. Gunfire was exchanged and there were casualties on both sides.

The Fourth Meetinghouse

Cantabridgians assembled here countless times during the pre-Revolutionary era. As today, many citizens had opinions and were not afraid to voice them. The series of Parliamentary legislations enacted during the 1760s and ‘70s was not initially intended to be harsh. The problem lay in the provincials’ reaction to it and the British response to their backlash. Provincials considered themselves principled British citizens and avid upholders of their rights as Englishmen and women. The parliamentary-imposed taxes were not financially burdensome, but the colonists considered them unacceptable because they represented a violation of these rights.

At the Old Meetinghouse, Cantabridgians opposed the Stamp Act; an act that sought to tax provincials on most print materials. On October 14, 1765 the Town of Cambridge voted, “…that with all humility it is the opinion of the town, that the inhabitants of the Province have a legal claim to all the natural, inherent, constitutional rights of Englishmen, notwithstanding their distance from Great Britain; that the Stamp Act is an infraction upon these rights.” Following the Seven Years’ War, the Stamp Act was the first piece of British legislation that had the provincials up in arms. It also was the first act to prompt mass mobilization of resources and peoples in their effort to resist its “threat to popular liberty.” In 1773, Cantabridgians challenged the Tea Act, an action that sought to tax the colonists on tea. They responded by condemning tea drinkers, “…whoever shall directly or indirectly…or in any wise aid or abet in unloading, receiving or vending, the tea sent or to be sent out by the East India Company, while it remains subject to the payment of a duty here, is an enemy to America.”

As provincial resistance flourished, the British made the mistake of clamping down, enacting increasingly punitive laws, as if seeking to punish a disobedient child.  By the 1770s, Boston had become the hub of the resistance to British power. Local militias were assembled and began practicing on village commons. These militias increased the apprehension of the British military. While this apprehension existed between British countrymen, it is important to understand that although many colonists were growing frustrated with British control, they did not dream of revolution; they dreamt of reform.

In his famous set of instructions intended for the Virginia Revolutionary Convention of 1774, Thomas Jefferson declared, “This sire, is the advice of your great American council, on the observance of which may perhaps depend your felicity and future fame, and the preservation of that harmony which alone can continue both to Great Britain and America, the reciprocal advantages of their connection. It is neither our wish, nor our interest, to separate from her.”

However, the British continued to fight fire with fire. In doing so they sparked a flame in hearts of the colonists that they could not extinguish. Overtime, this blaze flourished, leaving scars in its path. Ultimately, this revolutionary fire burned the bridge between the motherland and her colonies, resulting in the outbreak of the American Revolution.

The Courthouse

Although John Adams was infamous for an extremism that predated most other revolutionary motion, his response to the 1765 Stamp Act offered a striking piece of counsel that foreshadowed the increasing belligerence of the colonial resistance. In a 1765 Boston Gazette article addressed to frustrated colonists, Adams declared, “The true source of our sufferings is our timidity.” As punishment for the Boston Tea Party, the royal leadership passed a series of laws that the colonists dubbed “The Intolerable Acts.” The Intolerable Acts were the first set of parliamentary regulations enacted primarily to rebuke the rebellious provincials. For example, the Port of Boston was shut down, crippling the city’s economy. The colonial assemblies were dissolved, and the colonial government was brought under direct British authority. A council, call the Mandamus Council, replaced locally elected officials. Although several Tory Cantabridgians were installed in seats of power, the town of Cambridge refused to recognize their jurisdiction, declaring that their locally-elected officials were sovereign, “…you [local representatives] may seem most conducive to the real interests of this town and province, and most proper to deliver ourselves and all America from the iron jaws of slavery.”

As the 1770s progressed, colonists lived with the looming threat of a violent outbreak. Towns and villages raised militias. Regional powderhouses that stored both the gunpowder for towns and for the royal provincial government came under scrutiny. With the provincials’ blatant displays of military practice drills and public seizure of powder, the British authorities grew uneasy. The build-up of colonial armories only exacerbated the British-colonial tensions that had been mounting for the past ten years.

On September 1, 1774, Royal Governor and Commander In Chief of the Royal Forces sent 300 soldiers on a secret expedition to the Charlestown powderhouse (still standing in modern-day Somerville) to legally confiscate the colony’s stores of powder. Fallacious rumors of an armed British invasion spread throughout the Colony and down the East Coast. Thousands gathered on Cambridge Common to protest this seizure of gunpowder and the Intolerable Acts.

The following day, armed only with sticks, a crowd of 4,000 colonists marched down Brattle Street to harass William Brattle for his role in what came to be known as the Powder Alarm of 1774. They called for the resignations of Lieutenant Governor Thomas Oliver and Judges Samuel Danforth and Joseph Lee from the Mandamus Council. In a dramatic scene on the courthouse steps, both judges conceded to the crowd’s order and resigned. Judge Lee declared, “As a great numbers of the inhabitants of the County are come into this town since my satisfying those who were met, not only declaration but by reading to them what I wrote to the Governor at my resignation, and being desirous to give the whole County and Province full satisfaction in this matter, I hereby declare my resignation of a seat in the new constituted Council, and my determination to give no further attendance.”

East Apthorp House

This house was built in 1760 for the Reverend East Apthorp who was the founder and first rector of Christ Church in Cambridge. He was a Cambridge University educated colonist. Like many of his fellow Tories, Apthorp was notorious for his extravagant expenditures. Even before the other wealthy loyalists were threatened by Cantabridgians and essentially driven out of town in 1775, Apthorp faced criticism for his grandiose mansion. In fact, in a 1764 controversy that resulted in him fleeing to England, Cantabridgians dubbed Apthorp’s home “Bishop’s Palace.”

The property was then sold to John Borland, a fellow affluent loyalist who, with the other Tories, fled in 1775, fearing for his life. Following Bordland’s departure, the house was seized by patriot leaders who converted it into barracks that were utilized by Continental soldiers throughout the Siege of Boston.

Little more than a year after the Siege of Boston had ended, British General John Burgoyne, and his 5,700 British, Canadian, and Germanic soldiers were marched to Cambridge as a condition of a surrender agreement known as the Saratoga Convention. These men were held as prisoners of war for about a year. The high-ranking British officials were horrified by the arrangements made for them in Cambridge. Large numbers of soldiers were crammed into dilapidated barracks without regard to rank. Their military leaders were imprisoned in some of Cambridge’s finest mansions, but these were all unfurnished. Much to his own trepidation, General Burgoyne was forced to buy all his own furniture and pay rent during his stay at the Apthorp House, where he was housed until his release.

Since the eighteenth century, the Apthorp House has been purchased by Harvard University. Currently, it is the Master’s Residence of the Adams House.

Forts 1, 2, and 3

There was never a formal battle fought within Cambridge borders, but that did not stop Commander In Chief, General George Washington from making efforts to fortify the town. Washington was painfully aware of the amateurish abilities of the Continental Forces and desperately sought to train the soldiers. As a part of this crash course in eighteenth-century military skills and tactics, he launched a large-scale earthworks project, charging the soldiers with creating a series of fortifications around Cambridge.

Fort Washington

After the Battle of Lexington and Concord, Continental forces had gathered in large numbers at Cambridge Common, General Washington soon realized that these soldiers desperately needed formal training if they were to stand a chance against the professional British military. As a part of their training and to protect from future British attacks, Washington launched a large-scale earthworks project around the Town of Cambridge.

One of these fortifications was named Fort Washington. Fort Washington was a relatively small palisade consisting of two half moon batteries designed to fit fifty or sixty men. At the time of its construction, General Washington used this project as a means of training the soldiers to build larger-scale fortifications like the one at Dorchester Heights in Boston.

Today, Fort Washington is a fenced-in park housing three cannons. These cannons were not originally on this site during the American Revolution. They were contributed in 1858 from Fort Warren in Boston Harbor. Fort Washington stands at the country’s oldest surviving fortification from the Revolutionary War.

Ralph Inman House

Ralph Inman was a wealthy merchant and prominent Tory who lived in Cambridge during the pre-Revolutionary era. He was a founder of Christ Church and its first treasurer. In 1756, he purchased a 180-acre estate that amounted to half of what is now the Cambridgeport area. Like the other Cambridge Tories, Inman was known for his grandiose lifestyle. When his son, George, graduated from Harvard College in 1772, Inman threw a lavish party that boasted a 347-person guest list.

After the Battle of Lexington and Concord, Inman chose to remain in Boston, believing that Cambridge was too dangerous. His wife, however, remained at their Cambridge property in an effort to prevent its confiscation by local patriot leaders. However, following the Battle of Bunker Hill, records indicate that Mrs. Inman temporarily left the Cambridge estate, staying most of her time at their Milton property, returning to Cambridge now and then. Upon her departure, the mansion and its grounds were taken over by 3,460 soldiers under the command of Colonel Sargeant, and renamed Barrack #1. In the spring of 1776, the Inman house became the headquarters of General Israel Putnam, a commanding officer from Connecticut.

George Inman, Ralph’s son, joined the loyalist cause and fought on the British side throughout the Revolution. After the American colonial victory, the Inmans were one of the few Tory families whose property was returned to them.

Earthworks

Following the Battle of Lexington and Concord, thousands of militiamen, from all over New England, marched to Cambridge, waiting for their next orders from Commander In Chief George Washington. After taking command of the Continental Army on July 3, 1775, Washington ordered the troops to fortify Cambridge in an effort to protect the town from future British attacks. One of the early plans included a massive earthworks project. Earthworks are constructed banks of soil used to protect against potential assaults. These earthworks consisted of two lines of fortifications that ran from Dana Hill to what is now the intersection of Broadway and Massachusetts Avenue. The fortifications built by the Continental Forces were part of a training plan used to prepare the soldiers for building larger defensive walls at Dorchester Heights in Boston.

Elm and Beech Streets

The Battle of Lexington and Concord is one of the most well known battles in American history and Cambridge played a significant role in that battle.    

On the eve of the Battle, Boston Patriots, including Paul Revere and Dr. Joseph Warren, noticed the movement of British troops and ships. The British were preparing to march to Concord to seize gunpowder and arrest active Patriots Samuel Adams and John Hancock. Dr. Warren asked Paul Revere and William Dawes to warn the surrounding towns that the British were coming. Dawes rode through Cambridge warning its citizens and informing them to break apart The Great Bridge, the only bridge connecting Boston to Cambridge and the surrounding towns. Following years of growing tension between the colonies and the British and a large protest on September 2, 1774, the British had been losing control over the more western towns in Massachusetts and concentrating their forces in well-fortified city of Boston. This made the connection from Boston, over the Great Bridge and through Cambridge strategically important to both the British and the Patriots.

The Cambridge citizens broke apart the bridge and by midnight the British troops landed at Lechmere Point and crossed through Cambridge on their way to Lexington and Concord. British reinforcements, led by Lord Percy, arrived at the destroyed Great Bridge the next morning. They were able to repair the bridge because the Cambridge citizen had left the planks right by its side. Once the British reinforcements rode through Cambridge, some of militia went to fortify The Great Bridge while other followed the reinforcements and prepared to attack them on their retreat.

Several Cambridge Patriots prepared to ambush the retreating British at the intersection of Elm and Beech Streets. These men were able to kill several retreating British troops before Lord Percy’s men fired their cannons on them forcing them to retreat.

Fort Putnam

Following the Battle of Lexington and Concord, thousands of soldiers from all over New England marched to Cambridge to join the Revolutionary Cause. Among these men, was General Israel Putnam and his Connecticut-based militia. Like the other Continental Forces in Cambridge, Putnam and his company aided in the large-scale earthworks project that sought to fortify the town against future British attacks. One of Putnam’s most notable forts was one he named for himself, Fort Putnam. Fort Putnam was known as the strongest fort built by the Continental Army. 

Lechmere Point

In the wee hours of April 19, 1775, British troops landed in Cambridge at Lechmere Point. From there, they marched to Lexington to fight American colonists in the first battle of the American Revolution.

Following this battle, there were several other skirmishes between the British and the provincials at this site. On November 9, 1775, British troops again landed here, only this time, they were met with a colonial militia. General William Heath, a prominent Continental officer, reported that several Americans were wounded as a result of the confrontation. 

Later, in December of that year, under the command of General Israel Putnam, Continental soldiers were building fortifications near Lechmere Point. On December 12th, British naval forces in the nearby swamps fired upon them. Even so, by December 17th, the provincials had finished building the earthwork, despite the threatening British gunfire.

In February 1776, General Heath recorded in his diary that cannons were mounted at Lechmere Point, and on March 2nd, the Continental soldiers launched an attack on nearby British Forces utilizing their new weaponry.