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Benedict Arnold’s Treason Unmasked to Washington—in Arnold’s Own House

George Washington learned about Benedict Arnold’s treason while staying at Benedict Arnold’s house near West Point. He wondered why Arnold, his best battlefield commander, wasn’t there. As he was getting ready for dinner, Alexander Hamilton brought him the news.

Arnold had vanished moments before Washington rode up to the sprawling mansion along the Hudson River. He had received a letter telling him that Washington knew, or would soon know, that the jig was up. The Americans had arrested a suspicious person with incriminating evidence in Arnold’s handwriting, the letter said.

Benedict Arnold

Arnold had received the dispatch over breakfast with two of Washington’s aides. They had gone to Arnold’s house ahead of the rest of the commander-in-chief’s entourage. Arnold had excused himself and gone somewhere on urgent business–to the fort, he told them.

They never saw him again.

Benedict Arnold’s Treason

Benedict Arnold’s treason stemmed from a web of motives. They included a desire to avenge his honor, a measure of greed, painful and crippling battle wounds and the influence of his Loyalist wife.

By the time Washington showed up at his house, he had already given the British information about planned American troop movements.

He was born Jan. 14, 1741 in Norwich, Conn., into a once-prominent New England family. His great-grandfather, also Benedict Arnold, had served as governor of Rhode Island. His great-great-grandfather, William Arnold, had established King’s Chapel in Boston. Benedict Arnold spent his boyhood in affluence, but his alcoholic father then squandered all his money.

His father’s failure meant Arnold couldn’t attend Yale, and it also gave him a thirst for money and honor. He succeeded at merchant shipping and privateering, only to lose practically everything in the patriot cause. When he turned traitor he demanded £20,000 for his services.

Col. Benedict Arnold, before his promotion to general

He had served the cause valiantly, capturing Fort Ticonderoga, leading the expedition to Quebec, stopping a British invasion at the Battle of Valcour Island. Arnold had also helped drive the British from Connecticut and led American forces to victory at Saratoga.

His men loved him. Congress did not, passing him over for promotion in favor of junior—and less heroic — men. His nemesis, Gen. Horatio Gates, hadn’t even mentioned Arnold’s name in his report about the Battle of Saratoga.

Love of Money

Arnold’s love of money got him into trouble. While he recovered from severe wounds at Saratoga (add photo of boot), Washington appointed him military governor of Philadelphia. The British had recently evacuated, and he fell in love with 18-year-old Peggy Shippen, from a prominent Loyalist family. They married April 8, 1779.

Peggy Shippen Arnold

Peggy liked to live large, as did her husband, and they led an ostentatious lifestyle. Arnold engaged in war profiteering, which led to his court martial. Though acquitted on several counts, the court recommended a reprimand for several minor transgression. Washington sent him a letter chastising him as gently as he could, but Arnold — crippled, bitter and married to a Loyalist — had already put out feelers to the British.

Rationale

Benedict Arnold’s treason resulted from patriotic motive, or so he told himself—and, later, Washington. The war in 1780 wasn’t going well. Congress dithered and failed to provide for the Continental Army, which suffered from poor morale. Currency inflation started spinning out of control. The alliance with France hadn’t produced any victories. Then in May came the worst defeat of the war when Gen. Benjamin Lincoln and his 10,000 troops surrendered unconditionally in Charleston, S.C. Washington despaired.

George Washington, 1776

The British had also made overtures for peace, giving the Americans almost everything they wanted except for independence.

Arnold wasn’t the only one who considered changing sides. Charles Lee, captured by the British, shared with them a plan to defeat the Continental Army.

And Ethan Allen negotiated with the British on behalf of Vermont for a separate peace. He wanted to protect his extensive land holdings and the British offered to recognize Vermont as an independent state, part of the British Empire.

Had some things gone differently, perhaps Benedict Arnold’s treason wouldn’t have happened. He wanted a naval command. He had plenty of experience at sea, and he felt his wounds made him unfit for battle on land. But Washington didn’t see it that way.

West Point

He ended up finagling command of West Point, a key American position on the Hudson River. Upon his arrival on August 25, Arnold began to dismantle the fort’s defenses. He didn’t make needed repairs and he sent two cannons away, ostensibly to get refurbished. Then he sent 500 men off to cut wood and another 200 north to guard Fishkill, N.Y.

The Beverly Robinson house.

The Arnolds – Benedict, Peggy and baby Edward – moved into a house two miles down the Hudson from the fort and on the other side. The house had belonged to wealthy Loyalist Col. Beverly Robinson, who helped Arnold change sides.

Arnold had been begging the British for a meeting with their spymaster, Maj. John Andre. The first attempt failed. Then in late September Andre sailed up the Hudson on the sloop of war HMS Vulture. On the evening of September 21, Arnold sent two men in a boat to pick up Andre. They didn’t want to do it, but Arnold threatened to arrest them. They rowed out, picked up Andre and took him to shore, where Arnold waited with another horse. The two men talked at the Joshua Smith house in Haverstraw, N.Y. Meanwhile, Continental troops spied the Vulture and began bombarding the vessel, forcing it to move downriver.

John Andre

The Vulture’s departure stranded Andre. So Arnold gave him civilian clothes, a letter of transit under the assumed name John Anderson and intelligence about West Point. Andre’s superior officer, Gen. Sir Henry Clinton, had expressly told him not to do those three things.

Caught Out

Arnold returned to his headquarters on the banks of the Hudson. Two days later, he sat down to breakfast with Capt. Samuel Shaw and Maj. James McHenry.

They had been traveling with Washington and arrived in advance of the general’s expected visit that day. Washington had told them to go on ahead while he inspected redoubts along the way. But his entourage — including Henry Knox, Alexander Hamilton and the Marquis de Lafayette – stayed with Washington.

Arnold invited Shaw and McHenry to have breakfast with him while Peggy stayed upstairs with the baby. Then Lt. Solomon Allen arrived with a message for Arnold from Continental Army Col. John Jameson.

West Point from Phillipstown, 1831

Jameson wrote he found incriminating papers in the stocking of a suspicious person claiming to be John Anderson. He had sent the papers to Washington. Arnold realized they had captured Andre – “John Anderson” – and he would soon be unmasked.

As Arnold read the message he showed a moment of distress but quickly regained his composure. He excused himself and went outside to tell his servant to get a horse and alert his bargemen. Then he went upstairs to tell his wife he had to leave immediately to join the British. She fainted on the bed. Just then one of Washington’s light horsemen knocked on the bedroom door and told him Washington would arrive momentarily.

Col. John Jameson

Arnold then told his breakfast companions he had to go across the river to the fort to prepare for Washington’s visit. His horse didn’t await him, so he took the messenger’s horse. He galloped down to the river, where oarsmen waited to take him up the river to the fort. Or so they presumed.

Arnold ordered them downriver instead, offering them two gallons of rum each if they would row with all their might. When they approached the Vulture, he held up a white handkerchief. Arnold and the oarsmen boarded the vessel, and Arnold told them they were now prisoners. The men protested, but they were paroled when they arrived in New York.

Washington Finds Out

Moments after Arnold left, Washington rode up to the house. Told Arnold had gone to the fort, he ate a quick breakfast and went to the fort with Knox and Lafayette. Hamilton stayed behind in case any dispatches arrived. They agreed to meet back at the house for dinner, scheduled for 4 p.m.

Alexander Hamilton and Henry Knox

Washington expected a military salute when he approached the fort, but none came. Mystified, he was approached by the fort’s commandant, Col. John Lamb, who apologized for the inadequate reception. He hadn’t known Washington was coming.

Washington then asked to see Arnold. Lamb said he hadn’t showed up in two days. Washington then proceeded to inspect the fort, all the while asking about Arnold’s whereabouts.

When Washington, Knox and Lafayette returned to the Robinson house, they expected Mr. and Mrs. Arnold to greet them. But he had disappeared and she was still upstairs, indisposed. Washington went to his room to prepare for dinner when Hamilton handed him a sheaf of dispatches.

Washington then read the news of Arnold’s betrayal. He asked Hamilton and Lafayette to join him. “Arnold has betrayed us,” he said. “Whom can we trust now??

Theatre

Washington ordered Hamilton to gather some men to intercept Arnold downriver. Then Arnold’s aide, Lt. Col. Richard Varick, came to Washington’s room and told him Mrs. Arnold seemed to have gone mad.

Washington then went to see Peggy, who he had known since girlhood. Peggy Shippen Arnold put on quite a show for him, thrashing, crying and raving deliriously. She convinced Washington, and for many years historians, that she knew nothing of Benedict Arnold’s treason. Her feigned madness gave her husband more time to escape.

Washington believed Benedict Arnold’s treason had unhinged his wife. He let her alone for dinner, and told no one else of Arnold’s treason. “Mrs. Arnold is sick and General Arnold is away,” Washington said. “We must therefore take our dinner without them.”

They barely touched their meal. Arnold’s aides, Lt. Col. Richard Varick and Maj. David Franks, had figured out Benedict Arnold’s treason. They knew they were under suspicion and covertly watched Washington to suss out what he knew. Washington and his officers did the same to them. “Never was there a more melancholy dinner,” Lafayette said years later. “The General was silent and reserved, and none of us spoke of what we were thinking about.”

After dinner, Washington asked Varick to stop outside. He told him about Benedict Arnold’s treason. Then he said he had no reason to suspect him or Franks, but they must consider themselves under arrest.

Peggy Shippen

Peggy had flirted with Andre during the British occupation of Philadelphia. Within a month of her marriage, Arnold corresponded with Andre. Later, evidence of Peggy’s involvement in Benedict Arnold’s treason came to light. The British had paid her £350 for handling secret letters.

The President’s House, Philadelphia, where Arnold lived as military general

Washington received a letter from Arnold, telling him Peggy didn’t know he’d turned traitor, and asking him to grant her safe passage to her family in Philadelphia. Washington gave her a choice: She could join her husband in New York or her family in Philadelphia. She chose Philadelphia.

At the same time, Washington intended to punish Benedict Arnold. He organized an attempt to track him down in New York, one that nearly succeeded. Had Arnold been captured, he would have been summarily hanged.

Aftermath

Andre went to the gallows on Oct. 2. A court martial exonerated Franks and Varick.

The British gave Arnold the rank of brigadier general, and he led his forces on destructive rampages through Virginia and Connecticut. Peggy eventually joined him in New York. After Cornwallis’s surrender at Yorktown, the Arnold family left for London.

A few years later, Arnold returned to North America, settling in Canada to speculate in land and start a merchant shipping business. The family then returned to London, where Benedict Arnold died in 1801 at the age of 60. Peggy died three years later at the age of 44.

In 1781, American agents a letter that said the British had paid only £5,000 for Benedict Arnold’s treason, not the £20,000 he had demanded. Franklin wrote to Lafayette, calling it “a miserable bargain especially when one considers the quantity of infamy he has acquired to himself and entailed on his family.”

With thanks to Benedict Arnold: How The Traitor Was Unmasked by James Thomas Flexner, American Heritage, 1967; The Life and Treason of Benedict Arnold by Jared Sparks, 1851. This story updated in 2023.

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The Cold Storm and Great Freeze of 1857

The Cold Storm and Great Freeze of 1857 prostrated New England during the winter of 1856-57, one of the worst ever. Thirty-two snowstorms dumped more than six feet of snow on the ground. Fierce winds created drifts as high as 18 feet, and it got so cold the mercury froze in thermometers.

The frigid cold and heavy snow caused tremendous suffering and destruction, both during the winter and afterward. An untold number of people died. Some perished in shipwrecks, fires or floods, while others departed quietly, borne away by cold or starvation. The bitter cold no doubt contributed to an influenza outbreak, called “one of the greatest epidemics,” and death.

The property damage was immense, beginning with church spires blown away and ending with freshets that carried off buildings. High winds dashed dozens of ships against the shore and blew down houses. Commerce came to a halt, as snow paralyzed railroads and ice immobilized coastal navigation.

“That was a tremendous winter,” wrote steamboat historian Henry Whittemore in 1893.

December Start

The weather in New England remained mild until mid-December, though plenty of snow had fallen. Then on December 17 the temperature plummeted to 12 below zero in Massachusetts and 16 below in Maine.

The next day was the coldest day New England had suffered in 22 years, with temperatures rising scarcely above zero anywhere in the region.

It would get even colder. And for the rest of the winter, violent wind and snowstorms buffeted New England. A snowstorm on December 23 foretold what was to come.

January Storms

January opened with a storm on the third, which made the railroads impassable.

Sidney S. Rider, editor of Book Notes, recalled that storm half a century later. He worked as a clerk in the bookstore of George H. Whitney in Westminster Street. It started on Saturday, snowed all night and continued all the next day. Westminster Street was a bed of ice two feet thick for a month or more, he wrote.

A Book Notes reader, W.A. Potter, remembered the next storm. “On Jan. 8, 1857, railroad trains were snowbound all over New England. On that day not a train reached Providence until evening. Pawtucket omnibuses were unable to reach the city, Narragansett Bay was frozen solid to Newport, and a few persons skated to that city. No vessel arrived from outside for 10 days.”

Fire and Ice

On very cold days, New Englanders who lived in densely populated towns grew especially anxious about the threat of fire.

During the Cold Storm and Great Freeze, fire gobbled a box factory in Cambridge, the Claverick House in East Boston, Dr. J.E. Hunt’s house and outbuildings in Thomaston, Maine and John Coe’s dwelling house in Hitchcockville, Conn.

In Laconia, N.H., the railroad shops burned at the end of January. “The temperature was 30 degrees below zero, and the fireman suffered severely,” according to the fire department’s history.

The most spectacular fire that winter burned down Vermont’s granite Statehouse.

The Vermont Statehouse burned down On Jan. 6, 1857

For three days starting January 6, temperatures had plunged below zero. At the beginning of that cold snap, a workman was heating the Vermont Statehouse for a meeting the next day. After he closed the vents, the furnace got too hot. Flames then shot up through a floor register in Representatives Hall. The fire soon enveloped the dome. Townspeople helped firefighters by throwing chunks of ice and snow at the building.

The fire seemed under control until the wind whipped up, scattering burning coals throughout the town. Only the heavy snow on nearby roofs prevented it from spreading. In the end, the inferno left only the granite walls standing. Vermont had to build a new Statehouse.

10 Days in January

On Saturday, January 17, an enormous cold weather system settled over a swathe of the United States. By Sunday it was 30 below at Muscatine, Iowa, 40 below in Watertown, N.Y., and 30 below at Woodstock, Vt.

That weekend began the worst 10 days of the worst winter in memory.

People thought it too cold to snow, reported the Cambridge Chronicle. They had it wrong. On Sunday night, a devastating snow hurricane — the Cold Storm — hit New England.

A fierce northwest wind drove the snow. “Doubtless many persons, as they reluctantly crawled out of their warm nests to shiver in the sharp air of Monday morning, looked forth with surprise upon the drifted heaps that blocked their gates and doors,” the Chronicle said.

“Men were floundering through the snow up to their waists,” reported the Chronicle. Women only peeped out at the window and railcars stood still.

Perfect Tempest

In Connecticut, between two and three feet of snow fell, and all travel stopped, according to the Illustrated Commercial Mechanical, Professional and Statistical Gazetteer. On Monday the gale turned into a “perfect tempest” and blew down the Chapel Street Church spire in New Haven, prostrated “two lofty spires” in Waterbury and caused “much other damage.”

The barque Tedesco, headed for Boston, wrecked off Swampscott, Mass., all hands lost. In Provincetown, gale-force winds drove 17 vessels onto the beach. The wind also demolished a house in New Bedford.

Two schooners and a sloop went ashore at Owl’s Head, and the storm blocked the roads in Thomaston, Maine.

The London Illustrated News carried this print of “The recent deep snow in Massachusetts: street in New Bedford.” Courtesy Library of Congress.

Drifts

After the Cold Storm, drifts on the Cape Cod railroad tracks rose as high as 18 feet.

In Essex, Mass., drifts rose above the windows of William Perkins’ good-sized two-story house, the Pittsfield Sun reported. The Perkins family had to look at the clock to find out whether morning had arrived yet. One of the neighbors shoveled away the snow so Perkins could climb out of the window.

In Providence, Sidney Rider remembered the tremendous amounts of snow. “When I reached Mr. Whitney’s shop that snow drift was 17 feet high; and the boys had pierced it with a hole, though which the boys had led a horse, unhitched from a nearby carting wagon,” he wrote.

That was one of the few businesses that did open after the Cold Storm. Many didn’t. The trains didn’t run and ships froze in harbors all along the coast. People did without the bread, meat and milk ordinarily delivered to their door because draught horses couldn’t make it through the snow.

In the Connecticut River Valley, the cost of food skyrocketed. “The factory had been developed at the expense of the farm. Provisions were coming in from the West and the Connecticut valley was not feeding itself,” wrote Springfield historian Mason Arnold Green.

The poor suffered terribly for the want of food, and many churches took up collections for them, wrote Salem historian Sidney Perley.

Great Freeze

The Great Freeze of 1857 continued after the storm. On January 19, the day of the Cold Storm, the mercury froze in the thermometer in Franconia, N.H., and registered 50 below zero in the Vermont towns of Montpelier and St. Johnsbury.

“The air was very thin and peculiarly transparent and light, and the sky therefore remarkably clear,” wrote Perley.

Scene on the ice, Boston Harbor–Citizens Hauling the Ferry-Boat. Courtesy Boston Public Library

Steamboats had to break the ice on Long Island Sound, which froze for a month. “The harbor at New Haven is frozen as tight as Baffin’s Bay,” reported the Hartford Times on January 27. “Capt. Merrow, of the schooner Daniel Trowbridge, who has been for a week frozen in near Southwest Ledge, at the mouth of New Haven harbor, reports that nothing but ice can be seen from his topmast, with a spyglass.

Narragansett Bay was frozen tight, with ice 14-inch thick on Pawtucket Bar as late as mid-March. The ice blockage lasted so long that the Providence textile mills started to run out of cotton.

“There was plenty at Newport, and the Commercial Steamboat Company resolved to break through the ice and get that cotton,” wrote Whittemore (ck). A captain Williams took charge of the Curlew, a very strong boat. The Curlew broke through the ice and towed the cotton in bales.

Frozen

In New Hampshire, Portsmouth Harbor froze over for the first time in memory. So did Boston Harbor. On January 26, Henry David Thoreau saw vessels frozen in the ice.

“Saw thousands on the ice,” he wrote in his journal. “[A] stream of men reaching down to Fort Independence where they were cutting a channel toward the city– Ice said to reach 14 miles. Snow untracked on many decks.” The ice didn’t go out until February 15, he noted.

On January 31, it snowed in Mexico City, an extremely rare phenomenon.

Freshets

Then came a thaw in February and two great rainstorms, which brought another set of problems. Tremendous freshets washed away buildings and bridges from Connecticut to Maine.

In Connecticut, the Housatonic River flooded, carrying off bridges. The floodwaters rose to the top of the Manufacturers’ Bank vault. After the flood subsided, bank officers couldn’t find a dry note of paper in the building.

The Shetucket River in Norwich flooded the waterfront and caused tremendous property damage.

In Castleton, Vt., an avalanche destroyed the barn and wagon shed belonging to Merlin Clark on February 22. Ice and snow filled the Clark’s house and buried a baby in its cradle, but the child survived unhurt.

Flooding came later in Maine. On April 16, for example, a Kennebec River freshet caused damage up and down the river, carrying away the toll bridge at Waterville and a railroad bridge in Skowhegan.

Damage caused by a freshet

Another Cold Storm

During March and April, the weather seesawed between balmy and fiercely cold. Then on April 21, Connecticut got hit by another great snowstorm. It started as rain, then turned to snow, dumping as much as two feet on Southern Connecticut.

The storm system whitened the streets of Baltimore, but in Bartlett, N.H., heavy rains washed away every bridge.

Then just when everyone thought the winter had ended, ice formed in Litchfield County, Connecticut, on Sunday, May 17.

***

New England has had more than a few monster storms. Read about them in “New England Weather” from the New England Historical Society. Click here to order your copy today!

This story updated in 2025.

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Boston Marathon Trivia, or Things You (Probably) Didn’t Know About the Big Race

Like so many New England sports traditions, the Boston Marathon is surrounded by lore and legend.

Boston Marathon, circa 1930. Photo courtesy Boston Public Library, Leslie Jones collection.

What Bostonian doesn’t know about Heartbreak Hill, Johnny Kelley and Rosie Ruiz?

But a few things can escape a fan’s attention, especially when the event has hosted hundreds of thousands of runners since it started in 1897. Here are seven things you may not know about the big race:

1. Boston Marathon Entry Fee

Tarzan Brown wouldn’t have run the 1939 Boston Marathon if someone hadn’t given him a dollar. The chronically unemployed runner showed up in Hopkinton without the $1 entrance fee. Walter Brown, who fired the starting gun, gave the Narragansett the dollar. Tarzan Brown won the race.

Tarzan Brown running the 1939 Boston Marathon. Photo courtesy Boston Public Library, Leslie Jones collection.

The eccentric, mercurial Brown had won the race before, in 1936. He dominated the sport of long-distance running in America along with John A. Kelley and Les Pawson throughout the 1930s.

Between races he worked as a stonemason and a shell fisherman, but sometimes had to sell his trophies and medals to feed his wife and four children. He died in 1975 when a van hit him outside a tavern.

Today the entry fee is $225 for U.S. residents, $235 for those who live outside the United States.

2. Two Johnny Kelleys

There were two Johnny Kelleys, Johnny Kelley the Elder and John J. Kelley the Younger. Johnny Kelley the Younger, born in Norwich, Conn., in 1930, won the Boston Marathon in 1957. He became a successful running coach at Fitch High School in Groton, Conn., where he coached the 1968 Boston Marathon winter, Amby Burfoot.

Johnny Kelley the Younger

Burfoot roomed with Bill Rodgers, four-time Marathon winner, at Wesleyan University in Middletown, Conn. Rodgers, born in Hartford, invited runner Greg Meyer to move to Boston, where Meyer won the Marathon in 1983.

Johnny Kelley the Elder, born in 1907, won the marathon in 1935 and 1945, came in second seven times and ran the race 61 times. He ran his last full marathon in 1992 at the age of 84. For the next two years he ran the last seven miles.

Johnny Kelley the Elder in 1996

A statue of Johnny Kelley the Elder stands near Newton City Hall near Heartbreak Hill, so named because of something he did in 1936. He overtook Tarzan Brown on the hill, and gave him a conciliatory pat on the shoulder as he passed him. That aggravated Brown, who then speeded up and beat Kelley. Hence the name “Heartbreak Hill.”

At 65, 19 years before his last marathon, Johnny Kelley said, “For me, the race these days is to try to beat the girls to the finish and to wave to all my old friends along the course.”

3. Winningest Boston Marathon Runner

Clarence DeMar won seven Boston Marathons despite a five-year layoff on his doctor’s advice. He won more of the men’s open division than any other runner. DeMar won in 1911, 1922-24, 1927-28 and 1930.

His doctor detected a slight heart murmur and advised him to stop running because, he believed, running weakened the heart.

Clarence DeMar

DeMar’s doctor wasn’t alone in believing that running was dangerous. For many years the marathon required a pre-race physical, and doctors decided whether runners were fit to race. In 1958, three runners declared unfit finished in the top 10. Medical science has advanced since then.

One competitor has won more races than DeMar, though: Ernst van Dyk has won 10 times in the wheelchair division.

Ernst van Dyk

4. The Prizes Got Better

Prize money wasn’t awarded until 1986, due to the sponsorship of John Hancock Financial Services. But over the past 20 years, runners have received more than $20 million. Winners of the open division get $150,000, and competitors who set a course record in both the open and wheelchair divisions will receive $50,000 bonuses.

5. A Small Broad

Roberta ‘Bobbi’ Gibb was the first woman to run the entire Boston Marathon. She was a spiritualist who discovered inner peace while running up to 40 miles a day. In 1966 she put on a black bathing suit and her brother’s big Bermuda shorts and hid in the bushes near the start. She finished in three hours, 21 minutes and 40 seconds, ahead of two-thirds of the runners.

Bobbi Gibb

The crowd cheered her wildly along the way, but not everyone approved. Celtics coach Red Auerbach was perplexed. “I can’t get guys to run around the floor and a small broad goes out there and runs a marathon,” Auerbach said. “I don’t know what the world is coming to.”

And for those who don’t know about Rosie Ruiz, she was proclaimed the winner of the female category until it turned out she’d jumped into the race midway. Race organizers grew suspicious because she didn’t have especially muscular legs, hadn’t sweated much and explained her unusually fast time by saying she woke up with a lot of energy that morning.

6. Choice Epithets

The Boston Marathon for many years was run by two old friends, Will Cloney, a sportswriter, and Jock Semple, a trainer for the Celtics and Bruins. Semple had a penchant for physically attacking non-serious runners. In 1959 he chased a runner wearing a clown mask, tackled him from behind and beat him until police pulled him off.

Jock Semple

“He hurls not only his body at them, but also a rather choice array of epithets,” Cloney said. “Jock’s method of attack is apt to vary.” In 1967, before women could run officially, Kathrine Switzer evaded Semple’s radar by entering under “K. V. Switzer.” When he discovered a woman running the marathon, he tried to rip her number off. “Get the hell out of my race and give me those numbers,” he shouted, according to Switzer. Her boyfriend shoved Semple out of the way, but photos of Semple grabbing Switzer’s numbers made world news. He and Switzer later became friends.

In a 1968 Sports Illustrated interview, he complained about the runners he didn’t like. “These screwballs! These weirdies!” he said. “These MIT boys! These Tufts characters! These Harvard guys! They write me askin’ should they put on spiked shoes for the marathon!”

7. One Beer, One Cigar

Gerard Cote, the “fabulous Frenchman,” wouldn’t talk to reporters immediately after winning the race in 1948. He told them, “Gentlemens, gentlemens! One beer! One cigar! Then we talk about the race, eh!” He won three other Boston Marathons, in 1940, 1943 and 1944.

Gerard Cote winning the 1940 Boston Marathon

BONUS ITEM: Thanks to reader Don Mathesen, we’re adding “The Run for the Hoses.” One hour before the noon start in 1976, the temperature reached an unseasonable 100 degrees. Race fans sprayed water from garden hoses on the runners to cool them off. Jack Fultz, a Georgetown University graduate student, first crossed the finish line — sopping wet — that year.

This story about the Boston Marathon was updated in 2023.

Image: Bobbi Gibb By HCAM (Hopkinton Community Access and Media, Inc.) – HCAM News Focus: 26.2 Foundation Hosts Bobbi Gibb at approximately 50:30, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=73403151. Ernst van Dyk By Gr5 – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=32311476. Jock Semple By unknown – Original publication: unknownImmediate source: http://www.carlyjyll.com/2018/05/the-first-women-to-finish-boston_2.html, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=63615160. Johnny Kelley in 1996 By unknown – Original publication: unknownImmediate source: https://archive.boston.com/sports/specials/obituaries/kelley/kelley_pictures?pg=9, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=68969198. Boston Marathon at the halfway mark, By Anonymous – [1], CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=25296916

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Isaac Bissell Electrifies Connecticut With News of the Battle of Lexington

Isaac Bissell electrified the colonies of Massachusetts and Connecticut with the news of the Battle of Lexington in April 1775.

He rode farther, faster and harder than Paul Revere, but is not so well-remembered. Unfortunately for the heroic messenger, ‘Bissell’ rhymes with fewer words than ‘Revere.’

Isaac Bissell

Isaac Bissell, born in 1749, lived in Suffield, Conn., at the time of the American Revolution. He married Amelia Leavitt on July 4, 1776, and they had two children, Isaac and Asaph.

He was one of a number post riders charged with telling the patriots the British army had killed people at Lexington and calling them to muster against the British regulars.

Immediately after the Battle of Lexington, and even as British reinforcements headed toward Concord, a militiaman, Joseph Palmer, scribbled a letter with the news. (Palmer later rose to brigadier general in the Continental Army.) He dispatched Bissell to take the letter to Connecticut:

Wednesday morning near 10 of the clock—Watertown.

To all the friends of American liberty be it known that this morning before break of day, a brigade, consisting of about 1,000 to 1,200 men landed at Phip’s Farm at Cambridge and marched to Lexington, where they found a company of our colony militia in arms, upon whom they fired without any provocation and killed six men and wounded four others. By an express from Boston, we find another brigade are now upon their march from Boston supposed to be about 1,000. The Bearer, Israel Bissell, is charged to alarm the country quite to Connecticut and all persons are desired to furnish him with fresh horses as they may be needed. I have spoken with several persons who have seen the dead and wounded. Pray let the delegates from this colony to Connecticut see this. —J. Palmer, one of the Committee of Safety.

Bissell’s Ride

Isaac Bissell rode to Marlboro with the news, then to Worcester along the Boston Post Road. According to legend, his horse dropped dead in Worcester. He then rode to Hartford.

In each town where he stopped, a local member of the Committee of Correspondence copied the letter and gave the copy to Bissell. Each new copy had information about who had gotten the news and when.

Along the way, Bissell may have notified Israel Putnam, a patriot and veteran of the French and Indian wars. Here’s how the post rider appeared to Putnam, according to his biographer George Canning Hill:

A man came riding through the quiet town of Pomfret on horse-back, bearing a drum about his neck, and beating it and calling out to all whom he met, — “To arms! To arms! the first blood has been shed at Lexington!” Putnam was ploughing in the field, at some distance back from his house, at the time … Putnam had his little son with him in the field. He at once unyoked his oxen and took them out of the furrow they were ploughing, sent word to his wife by the boy where he had gone, took his fastest horse from the barn, and rode away at such a pace as we should have expected from a man of his well-known character.

A copy of the letter Bissell brought went to Silas Deane in Wethersfield, just south of Hartford.

Other post riders took copies of Palmer’s letter to Norwich, New London and New York City, where the news arrived by noon on April 21^st.

Afterward

After his long ride, Isaac Bissell went home to Suffield, and then enlisted in Erastus Woolcott’s regiment. He marched back to Boston, where he participated in the siege.

Sgt. Isaac Bissell mustered out in March of 1776, then mustered back in when the British invaded Connecticut in 1779. He returned home to Suffield after the war and worked as a blacksmith. Isaac Bissell lived until 1822, when he died at age 73.

Some people confused Isaac Bissell with Israel Bissell, but historians such as J.L. Bell and Lion G. Miles concluded that’s because of spelling errors in the haste after the battle.

This story about Isaac Bissell was updated in 2022. If you enjoyed reading it, you might also want to read about Sybil Ludington, the female Paul Revere, here.

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When 8,000 New England Planters Moved to Nova Scotia

In October of 1758, Britain’s royal governor for Nova Scotia, Charles Lawrence, made an exciting offer to the New England Planters: They could have land for free if they cultivated it.

The Charming Molly brought New England Planters to Nova Scotia.

“New England Planters,” an Elizabethan term for the American colonists, came to describe the group of farmers who couldn’t refuse Lawrence’s offer. Later, they somehow earned the nickname ‘bluenoses’ – perhaps because of the cold winter, perhaps because of a purplish-blue potato abundant in the region

The British had kicked out about 11,000 Acadians in 1755 after the French surrendered their forts at Beausejour and Gasparaeux. They wanted to settle the sparsely populated territory with people loyal to the Crown.

A Call to New England

On Oct. 12, 1758, Lawrence published a proclamation in the Boston Gazette. It said the enemy could no longer disturb and harass the province. Therefore, the time had come to ‘people and cultivate the lands’ vacated by the deportation of the Acadians.

Three months later, Lawrence issued a second proclamation. Every head of family was entitled to 100 acres of wild land and another 50 for each member of his household, up to 1,000 acres. The land would be free for 10 years, then a small rent would be charged. Grantees would have to improve one-third of their land every 10 years until they’d cultivated all of it.

Lawrence’s powerful offer of a huge amount of rich farmland came at a time when New England had virtually no free land. He had perfect timing.

Great Migration of 1760-1775

Halifax in 1750.

Massachusetts, Connecticut and Rhode Island had run out of land for the sons and daughters of colonial farmers. Farmers then made up 90 percent of the population. Large families were common then, and younger sons of farmers had to buy land from Indians. Or they had to get it from the government or squat to start their own farms.

In the early 1760s, 66,000 colonists migrated to New York’s Mohawk River Valley, New Hampshire and what would become Vermont and Maine. From 1760 to 1775, 100 new towns were established in New Hampshire, 94 in Maine and 54 in Vermont.

Lawrence’s invitation to revive Acadian farms made big news in Connecticut. There, the population had nearly doubled to 141,000 since 1747. So a large group from southeastern Connecticut and Rhode Island towns — including New London, Norwich, Lebanon, Lyme and Tolland — met in Norwich to form a grantee group. They named five agents to look over the land in Nova Scotia.

In April 1759 the men sailed to Halifax to ask questions of Nova Scotia’s Governor-in-Council. They also wanted to look over the lands. They were delighted with the outcome.

The Deal

The Council agreed to give weapons to the planters so they could defend themselves. It also agreed not to impress the settlers into the army or navy for 10 years. The government would also transport them for free, and give a monthly allotment of grain to the poorest 50 families.

The American agents agreed to supply 200 families for the new township of Horton and 150 for the new township of Cornwallis. Another 100 families from Rhode Island would settle the township of Falmouth.

News of their successful negotiation spread, and another group from eastern New Hampshire sailed to Halifax. They then made a deal to send 200 families to establish the town of Granville. Two more towns were granted that year, one from central Massachusetts.

The New England Planters Arrive

Nova Scotia Gov. Charles Lawrence

For the next year, the New England Planters prepared to leave, selling their land, assembling stock and equipment and waiting for their ship’s uncertain arrival. The Charming Molly arrived first, in April, and carried 31 men, two women and 12 children from Massachusetts to Annapolis. Some of the wives would arrive later.

In June, a flotilla of 22 ships carried planters from Connecticut to Horton and Cornwallis.

Four ships carried the Rhode Island planters, 73 families in all, to Falmouth and, later, Newport.

Acadian Cross and New England Planters monument. Hortonville, Nova Scotia

Massachusetts fisherman wanted land, too, and the governor’s council agreed to give them land on similar terms. They settled mainly in Liverpool, Yarmouth and Barrington townships.

The settlers continued to arrive, and they brought something else with them to Nova Scotia: the Town Meeting, in which they divided the land and the Acadian ruins by lot.

By the end of the year 1760, Annapolis County had a new Massachusetts, Kings County a new Connecticut, and the present Hants County a new Rhode Island. “The whole Valley was a new New England, with a population of nearly 2,000 people,” wrote R.S. Longley in a paper, The Coming of the New England Planters to the Annapolis Valley.

By 1768, 8,000 New England Planters lived in Nova Scotia.

This story was updated in 2023. Acadian Cross and Planter’s Monument by By Verne Equinox – Own work, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5858970

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Eat Like a President – The Founding Fathers’ Guide to New England Taverns

The first five U.S. presidents, the founding fathers, were all veteran travelers in New England. And in their travels, they left behind tracks of where they stayed that tourists still follow today if they want to eat like a president.

Green Dragon Tavern, Courtesy of the Boston Public LIbrary

Many of the public houses these men stopped at have been obliterated by time. Many more were converted into private houses. But some gems remain where you can still sit down to dinner and eat like a president.

One of them, the Green Dragon in Boston’s North End, claims to be the headquarters of the American Revolution. But it has only an uncertain connection to the original Green Dragon, watering hole of Paul Revere and John Hancock. John Adams liked to stop at the original Green Dragon for a tankard or two.

Washington Ate Here

George Washington left tracks all across New England. First coming to the region in 1756 to visit Governor Shirley of Massachusetts, he made his next trip to assume command of the Continental Army.

His later trips, as president, were political. He needed to thank the wealthy patrons and soldiers who supported the American Revolution. Washington also wanted to get a sense for the mood of the country. For this northern tour, he decided not to stay in the homes of private citizens. Choosing one invitation over another would surely lead to hurt feelings.

Instead, he stayed at public accommodations, following his usual pattern of rising early and starting his travels. Then he’d stop for breakfast and travel to a town where he would receive a hero’s welcome. As a result, he often dined with the public.

In Fairfield, Conn., in October 1789, George Washington stayed at the Sun Tavern. Though you can’t eat like a president there. But you can visit as it’s now part of the Fairfield Museum and History Center.

You used to be able to eat like a president at the Old Sun tavern.

Eat Like a President in New Haven

In New Haven, the Union League was built in 1860 on the site of the home of Roger Sherman, a member of the Continental Congress. The club provided a base of support for Abraham Lincoln. Now a restaurant, the Union League Café, the owners noted that Washington visited Roger Sherman in his home there. So while Washington didn’t exactly eat there, he sort of ate there.

Beer’s Tavern in New Haven played host to Washington in June of 1775 when he traveled north to take command of the Continental Army at Cambridge, Mass. John Adams also reported staying there while travelling to the first Continental Congress in 1774. Adams returned again and again on his trips back and forth to Philadelphia. Over the years, Beer’s went through many iterations, but you can still eat like a president there today. The restaurant now operates under the name ‘Ordinary’. It has a wonderful description of its history here.

On his way north to Cambridge, Washington also stopped at the Silas Deane house in Wethersfield, now part of the Webb Deane Stevens Museum. He later returned to the nearby Joseph Webb House, also part of the museum, in May of 1781. The house then served as his headquarters. It was here he met with French commander the Comte de Rochambeau, who traveled from Newport, R.I., to discuss plans for the siege of Yorktown.

Then on his never-ending quest for supplies for his army, Washington also visited Thomas Leffingwell at the Leffingwell Inn in Norwich, Conn. The inn is open as a museum today.

Presidential Spirit?

In Middletown, Conn., Bigelow’s Tavern was the popular place to dine. Thomas Jefferson and James Madison stayed there on their return trip from Vermont in 1791, and John Adams stayed in 1774 when passing through Connecticut.

Started by Timothy Bigelow, his widow operated the tavern after his death in 1776. She managed it successfully for decades, despite being accused of sympathizing with the Tories during the American Revolution. Unfortunately, it is long since gone, but the building in its place, which also houses the Middletown Police Department, is home to the First & Last Tavern. Perhaps the presidential spirit remains there.

In Greenwich, Conn., Knapp’s Tavern is also known as Putnam Cottage, after its famous guest, Gen. Israel Putnam. But as Knapp’s, innkeeper Isaac Knapp kept it as a tavern and hosted both George Washington and John Adams. No longer a tavern, the building can be visited, however, as it is now a museum.

In Guilford, Conn., Thomas Jefferson and James Madison stayed at the Stone Tavern, with Jefferson rating it above average. That tavern isn’t around anymore, but there is a well-known Medad Stone Tavern in Guilford. Unfortunately, it never opened for business.

Mr. Stone, anticipating a change in the route of the Post Road in 1802, built a new tavern along what he thought was the new route. The road, however, went elsewhere leaving him with a tavern with no customers. Today it’s a museum.

The White Horse?

White Horse Tavern. Eat like a president there, perhaps?

Madison and Jefferson also liked to stay at Bull’s Tavern in Hartford. John Adams visited this tavern, too, and enjoyed his stays. Frederick Bull ran the tavern, now gone, but his brother, Captain William Bull, ran a tavern in Litchfield. The Captain William Bull Tavern moved from its original site and incorporated into the Tollgate Hill Inn and Restaurant.

During George Washington’s celebratory trip to New England in 1789, he left Rhode Island off the itinerary because the state hadn’t taken any action to ratify the U.S. Constitution. When Rhode Island did ratify, Washington made things right in 1790 and traveled to the state for celebrations in Newport and Providence.

In Providence he stayed at the Abner Daggett’s Golden Ball Inn, since demolished. In Newport the only tavern in business today where he might have visited is the White Horse Tavern. French commander Rochambeau frequently patronized the establishment. Though there is no record of it, Rochambeau might have dined with Washington there when Washington came to spend a week in Newport in 1781.

Eat Like a President in Massachusetts

Two locations where Washington definitely dined are Massachusetts museums now. The first, of course, if the Longfellow House in Cambridge, which is where he spent the most time in Massachusetts while commanding the Continental Army. He also dined at the Munroe Tavern in Lexington, a hot spot for anti-British meetings before the war. Washington visited the tavern on his 1789 celebration tour, and today it’s open as a museum.

Several other stops along Washington’s tour in Massachusetts remain open to the public. Ye Olde Tavern in West Brookfield (which also hosted John Adams in addition to Washington) remains a restaurant today.

Washington dined at Faneuil Hall in Boston, though it’s hard to envision the president sitting down at today’s food court. He went on to visit the Jeremiah Lee Mansion in Marblehead, a museum today. And in Newburyport, Washington stayed at the Tracy Mansion, now the public library.

Washington also dined and danced at the Salem, Mass., Cotting-Smith Assembly House, a Federalist club. It’s now used for functions by the Peabody Essex Museum, where guests can perhaps eat like a president.

Faneuil Hall.

James Monroe

James Monroe also made a stop in Salem on his 1817 tour of New England. The fifth U.S. president probably traveled more extensively throughout New England than any of the founding fathers apart from John Adams. He had to take a long road show to try and soothe New Englanders’ hostility over the War of 1812.

His trip took him through all the states, including extensive travels in Maine and Vermont. As with the other presidents, most of the places he stopped at (Clapp’s Inn in Walpole, Mass., Wyatt’s Inn in Dover, N.H., Gilman’s Hotel in Newburyport) no longer serve the public. Salem, Mass. hosted a reception for him at the Old Town Hall, new at the time.

Thomas Jefferson

While Monroe made it to Vermont, Thomas Jefferson has the distinction of visiting the northernmost part of the Green Mountain state. He crossed Lake Champlain from New York and landed at Crown Point and Chimney Point, now an historic site owned by the state. On his travels south through Vermont, Jefferson visited Bennington, and he was so intrigued by Vermont’s maple syrup that he sent 20 maple trees to his Monticello home, in hopes that America could free itself from dependence on sugar from the West Indies.

John Adams, meanwhile, did the most travelling around New England. His diaries tell of many taverns where he stopped — mostly, sadly, now gone. He stayed at Newcomb Tavern on a trip to Barnstable on Cape Cod, now a private house. Ironically, Loyalists tended to patronize the Newcomb Tavern in the run up to the American Revolution.

Adams also visited Allen’s in Biddeford and Webb’s in Falmouth (Portland), an inn that doubled as the town jail. He stopped at Tilton’s in Portsmouth, N.H. Washington also made it to Portsmouth in 1789, dining at the Langdon House, now a Historic New England museum. Washington also visited the Pitt Tavern, now part of Strawbery Banke, and made a stop at the Folsom Tavern, now open in Exeter, N.H., as a museum.

This story about how to eat like a president was updated in 2022. If you’d like to find out how to eat like more modern presidents, click here.

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