In 1772, American colonists struggle to build a new life, fighting desperately against nature and tyranny, as King George III continues to issue destructive orders from thousands of miles away, one man leads a small opposition group in a historical confrontation that helps pave the way toward an independent nation…
Beads of sweat covered a wrinkled, warm-to-the-touch brow, as hands shook and shivered, crossed over his chest, wheezing for breath. Cracked, coarse palms, abused from years upon years of hard manual labor, gave little comfort, as a chill ran rampantly through his entire body. Gasping for air had become uncomfortable and difficult, with swollen lymph nodes making inhaling and exhaling an arduous task, exacerbated by persistent congestion. Consciousness and consistency of thought now largely abandon him – a simultaneous blessing and curse. The mortal pain would soon be over, though not soon enough to escape the pronounced agony.
He could barely speak but did manage to push out a low moan to impart his deep distress to anyone nearby or within earshot inside the house. His eyes remained closed, offering some small semblance of relief from his miserable disposition as fate slowly crept up, an inevitable experience for all and his time wasn’t far off.
“Pa! Pa! He’s gettin’ worse.”
“Yes, I believe so, son. Nothing we can do for him now. We just have to give him as much care as we can. It’s not much, but it’s our moral responsibility and professional courtesy.”
“It’s hard to think of this feeble, old man as a professional, Father.”
“I understand your perspective. Your naivete precludes you from knowing just who this man is and what he’s done.”
“Who is he, anyway, Pa?”
“A very old friend. A brave, daring, and independent soul who risked his whole livelihood for the sake of freedom from absolute tyranny. A man who stood up to creeping authoritarian rule at a crucial time, long before April of ‘75.”
“You said, ‘professional courtesy,’ do you mean he owned a mill, like you, Father?”
“Indeed. Right here in Weare, many, many years ago now – nearly two decades, eighteen, to be more precise.”
“1772?”
“That’s right, Son. April 1772.”
“So, something he did way back then compels your attention today, Pa?”
“Yes. Looking back, it was a true miracle – divine province, I must conclude – there’s no other sensible explanation. Holy agency delivered through the most unlikely source – one Ebenezer Mudgett.”
The sentiment wasn’t completely out of the ordinary. Asa Patty and his son would be the last two people to see their gravely ill guest alive. A man whose name had largely been lost to history, even as early as 1789. Fewer and fewer Americans, a relatively new citizenry, had any knowledge of Mudgett’s actions and profound place in history.
But, there were surviving contemporaries who did know about Ebenezer’s bravery and tenacity. Asa Patty was among them. Not just as a coeval, but also as a neighbor, and colleague. A man of the same age, with an almost identical background, and one who suffered through the struggle between the American colonies and the overbearing British Crown. A fight that initially began with a decree passed in 1722, not fully felt until 1766, ultimately materializing in violent conflict in 1772, a half-century later.
Ebenezer Mudgett was now in his sixty-third and final year. Born on the 2nd of July in 1726 in Haverhill, Essex County, Massachusetts, he was the son of William and Dinah. He was the oldest of two siblings, his younger brother John, being born about three years later in 1729. Some twenty-six years later, Ebenezer married Miriam Johnson, on the 10th of October, 1752 in Hampstead, Rockingham County, New Hampshire.
Mudgett became a sawmill owner and liquor merchant by the age of 46. This, in an era when the average person lived only about thirty-six years and fewer, survived to forty-seven. So, Ebenezer had already beaten the odds of the period. But, it certainly wasn’t a life without extraordinary strife. His success would be existentially threatened and he would have to react in a profound manner to protect his business and his legacy.
“Let all here be made aware, this General Court of the colony of New Hampshire does now consider it illegal for any person or entity, to cut down any white pine trees larger than 12 inches in diameter. Such lumber is hereby officially reserved for His Majesty’s Royal Navy. So be it, in the year of Our Lord, 1722!”
“That’s outrageous!”
“Order, order in the court, please!”
“And what gives you such authority?”
“We are duly empowered by His Majesty and the British Crown, Sir!”
“So, what about the rest? Mr. Magistrate?”
“Good sir, you are free to obtain a royal license to cut down the rest of the white pines, not officially appropriated for the Royal Navy!”
The argument would be brief, but impactful to everyone in attendance. They just learned the New Hampshire General Court had capitulated to the demands of the British Empire. And in doing so, substantially increased their cost of doing business. Now, in order to continue their trade, settlers were forced to pay a considerable sum to obtain such a license for the privilege of harvesting any remaining white pine trees from their own land.
It likewise meant having to wait until a Deputy Surveyor visited their properties and scored all the King’s trees with a broad arrow mark. This took time, a precious and finite commodity then as it is today. It was also extremely costly and not an insignificant amount lumber mill owners could simply pass on to their customers without protest or pain.
Fortunately, the law passed by the New Hampshire General Court in 1722 wasn’t actually enforced. However, that lack of governmental application would change nearly forty-four years later when a newly appointed Governor, John Wentworth, was placed in office in 1766. A man who departed from his ambivalent predecessor, at least in one key respect – a change in the status quo to the deleterious effect of sawmills.
Governor Wentworth was sympathetic to his fellow colonists but demonstrated consistent fidelity to the law. He was so adherent to the rules, he would carry out his own inspections across properties growing and felling white pines for lumber used in a variety of construction applications. The New Hampshire executive even appointed John Sherburn to the post of Deputy Surveyor, a role whose duties included searching lumber farms and mills for white pines marked for the British Crown.
Newly placed Deputy Surveyor John Sherburn mostly shared the former Governor’s disposition until Wentworth took office. That being, as long as enough white pines were being sent to the Royal Navy, there wasn’t a compelling need to enforce the 1722 law. So, new towns far away from Portsmouth – the capital at the time – such as Dunbarton, Weare, and Henniker were rarely inspected. But, Wentworth, unlike his indifferent predecessor, took his duties seriously and soon realized just how much revenue was lost by not strictly enforcing license fees or issuing fines. After instructing all the surveyors to stringently apply the law, they accepted the orders enthusiastically, seeing the opportunity to earn more money through nefarious means, like bribes and kickbacks.
Deputy Surveyor John Sherburn eagerly participated in the new directive. It not only gave him a chance to enrich himself personally, but it would also serve as a means to advance his professional career. After all, the more license fees collected and fines levied, the better. This prospect gave Sherburn ample enthusiasm to vigorously apply the rules to any and all farms, lumber mills, sawmills, and more he inspected throughout the Piscataquog Valley.
It was Goffstown and Weare the Deputy Surveyor visited in early 1772 that were among the first to receive such strict scrutiny.
“I’ve found a good number of white pines measuring 15 to 36 inches in diameter in your mill here, today Sir!”
“Well, Deputy Sherburn, I don’t believe the King will suffer any injury if I retain those trees and use them for the good of the colony!”
“I appreciate your position as a mill owner to do what’s best for your community. But, the law clearly states all white pines claimed for the Crown are only for use in the Royal Navy. Therefore, I must insist they be designated as such and it’s why I’ve already applied the appropriate mark in every log.”
“Just because it’s the law doesn’t mean it’s right or fair! The King takes too much as it is. We have a duty to our fellow colonists and a responsibility to our families to provide as much as we can, Deputy!”
“Regardless of your heartfelt protest, I am too bound by duty. And it’s my charge to order you to set aside those so marked for the British Empire. Please, sir, the fines are stiff enough, and more penalties are a distinct possibility. I must summon you to appear at the Court of Vice Admiralty in Portsmouth on February 7th. There, you’ll pay your fines and be done with this rather unpleasant matter.”
“A very unfortunate and unnecessarily costly matter, I am compelled to say!”
This proprietor was not the lone offender. Five other mills Deputy Sherburn visited during his inspections also had white pine logs measuring 15 to 36 inches. Those operators were likewise fined and ordered to appear at the Vice Admiralty Court on February 7th to pay their citations and plead their cases. Disheartened and disgusted yet fearful of their collective predicament, all the owners agreed to meet to discuss their strategy for disposing of the matter.
“Gentlemen, some of you know me personally, but for those who do not, my name is Asa Patty. I own a mill in Weare and am in favor of hiring an experienced counselor to handle the case. We do not need to prolong this matter. Instead, I strongly recommend we band together with a single voice, someone who can arrange for a conclusion to this inauspiciousness.”
“I agree, Mr. Patty! It’s clear the King will not capitulate, nor will our local overlords. We must take decisive action or suffer even more capricious consequences.”
“Thank you so much for the endorsement. But, might I inquire if the word is true that you and your fellow Goffstown mill owners have already agreed to pay your fines?”
“Yes, that is true. Sadly, this gesture of compliance was not sufficient to wash our hands of this mess. Deputy Sherburn still ordered all of us to appear in court. This is precisely why I agree with you, Asa, if I may so call you, that we hire a lawyer.”
“I appreciate your candor and agree. We’ll need an attorney in good standing with the officials in Portsmouth but someone equally endeared to us and empathetic to our position.”
“I believe Samuel Blodget would be an ideal choice, Mr. Patty. He fits all the credentials and has the fortitude to see this matter through to conclusion.”
“Samuel Blodget is indeed a good man, though I am a bit leary of placing so much trust in just one man to handle all of our fates. Still, it’s worth a try. Hopefully, it will be worthwhile. But, we have yet to hear from one of the most notable among us. You’ve been unusually quiet, Mr. Mudgett. What’s your position?”
“My position is simple, Asa my dear friend. The King doesn’t need my wood, nor any of our wood! Not a man in here is fully in charge of his own destiny, so long as the Crown continues to interlope and impose demand after demand! I say we act obstinate! Obstinate and notorious!”
“In principle, I must concede your point, Ebenezer. But, in practicality, I’m afraid ‘obstinate and notorious’ are two unenvious labels we dare not adopt. At least, not at this time.”
“But, indirect defiance will gain us no quarter. It is clear the King and those loyal to His Majesty are not content with letting us go about our business unrestricted. Their level of control grows larger and larger, Asa. If left unchallenged, they eventually run practically every aspect of our businesses and probably our lives!”
“Again, I cannot disagree with your assessment, Ebenezer. But, I am a pragmatist. And that disposition forces me to accept reality as it is. We must carefully choose our battles.”
“What about the Stamp Act of ‘65? Do you not recall, not heed the cry ‘No taxation without representation!’ This is the very same thing!”
“That was 1765, seven years ago. And, if I may be so bold as to remind you, my friend, that the very same law was repealed only a year later in ‘66. We do not have enough popular support to fight this one out and win.”
“Then, we are resigning ourselves, our families, and future generations to tyranny!”
Though Ebenezer remained skeptical, he begrudgingly agreed to let Blodget represent him and his fellow lumber processors. This wasn’t the first time Ebenezer and Asa disagreed. The two enjoyed a long history of banter, having quite a bit in common. They’d been in the same business for several years and shared its ups and downs. Now, a new threat materialized, one that would reduce their ability to turn a profit. But, for Ebenezer, it wasn’t about the money. Asa’s attitude was born more out of survival and avoiding confrontation. Mudgett strongly believed a fight was not only warranted but long overdue.
His point about the Stamp Act wasn’t unique among the colonists. Many of them had grown weary of the overreach of a King thousands of miles away. However, not nearly enough to mount a real uprising. Although a majority were unhappy with the demands of the Crown, relatively few were willing to take any substantial action. This would remain the case, even during the American Revolution, as more colonists fought on the side of the British redcoats than against the Royal military during the eight-year war spanning from 1775 through 1783.
But Mudgett understood the circumstances. He knew his colleagues would only take their collective protest so far. The owners arranged to meet again and discuss their case, subsequently hiring Attorney Blodget, who assured his new clients he could successfully argue their case before the court on February 7th.
“Your Honor, Governor Wentworth, I am here on behalf of the six mill owners fined by Deputy Surveyor John Sherburn from Goffstown and Weare. I request you rescind the fines and issue a stern warning.”
“Hmm. ‘A stern warning,’ you say? I know that your clients – at least two or three of them – are your personal friends, right?”
“Yes, your Honor.”
“Putting a friend in this most awkward position isn’t kind, would you agree, Attorney Blodget?”
“It’s about giving voice to those who deserve fair representation, Governor. I am here on professional terms. My friendships have nothing to do with it. So, again I humbly ask for the fines to be dismissed and warnings be given in lieu of any other penalization.”
“Mr. Sherburn, though it is no real secret I am not fond of this law and do empathize with the mill owners, I am still required to discharge my duties to the best of my abilities. The fines stand but there will be no further action taken by the Court of Vice Admiralty of Portsmouth.”
“I implore you to reconsider, Sir Wentworth. Drop the fines and I can promise this won’t happen again!”
“Your persistence is admirable. However, I cannot waive the fines. But what I can do is offer you a more suitable position. Tell me, Mr. Blodget, how would you like to be a Surveyor of the King’s Woods?”
Blodget couldn’t refuse such a generous offer. It meant a better life, with considerable power and influence, not to mention an attractive salary, complete with plenty of other earning potential. It also gave him the opportunity to take prime parcels of land for himself and his family. Samuel Blodget readily accepted Governor Wentworth’s offer and wrote letters to each of the six mill owners over the next month warning them against any further infractions and for the abstaining operators to pay their fines.
“Ebenezer, I’ve just received this letter from Mr. Blodget. He advises me to pay the fine levied against me and to refrain from challenging it.”
“Yes, I’ve been so advised as well, Asa. Mr. Blodget also warns there’s an order out to the local sheriff to place anyone who does not comply under arrest. Again, I will remain obstinate and notorious.”
“Then I will do the same and not capitulate – though I fear such defiance will inevitably trigger an awful price. Should I pass this along to the other Weare operators?”
“Yes, Asa. It’s imperative we stand united. If you so wish, I’ll deliver the message myself. I’ll also immediately dispatch a letter to Mr. Blodget and to the Governor informing them of our protest. For good measure, I’ll have a copy delivered to the New Hampshire Gazette. We must let our fellow colonists know of the King’s unrelenting quest to subjugate us!”
Later that same day, Asa and the other Weare mill owners gathered together. Patty had already told them of the plan to forebear and refuse to pay any fines. The mood was a mix of excitement and anger as the men drank pints of ale, talking among themselves and waiting for Ebenezer to arrive.
By now, well over a month had passed since the court hearing. Most of the townspeople knew what transpired and many were aware an arrest warrant would soon follow. It gave them a collective rallying cause, knowing they stood in unison against the unfairness of autocracy that flowed stronger and stronger from the other side of the Atlantic.
Despite being substantially more than 3,500 statutory miles away, the British Crown continually sought to tightly rule the colonies and regulate their trades. The order regarding the white pines was merely the latest. Other decrees would follow, just as Ebenezer warned his friend. But, this was their moment to thwart Britain’s unbridled advances, even though by a small measure.
“Gentlemen, disobedience! Disobedience is often regarded as a dastardly word, with a most negative connotation. But I say to you here today, disobedience is our way of telling King George, no more! No more! We are a sovereign people. Though not an official nation, our colonies must be allowed to freely operate. To engage in trade, in commerce, and without the Crown interloping time and again!”
“Yes, I for one agree with you, Mr. Mudgett. But this noncompliance will not go without retribution. The longer we hold out, the more vicious payback will be. Therefore, I will participate in this solidarity. Although it must be understood I cannot, we cannot forever stand as a foil of the King.”
“This tepid, careful balance, attempting to appease your principles at the same time as the whims of King George, is merely untenable. You must choose to stand firmly on principle or give into despotism. And, I assure you, this absolutism will never tire of taking more and more!”
Ebenezer’s passion and persuasion worked. The mill owners agreed not to pay their fines and suffer any consequences. Within days, word of their meeting got out and made its way all through the Piscataquog Valley. Now, it would only be a matter of time before an arrest warrant was issued for failure to pay their fines and for continuing to defy the law appropriating marked white pines solely for the Royal Navy.
Just days later, a warrant was written, and picked up by Benjamin Whiting, the Sheriff of Hillsborough County. The very next morning, on April 13th, Sheriff Whiting and his Deputy, John Quigley, rode to South Weare.
“Deputy Quigley, we’ll place Ebenezer Mudgett under arrest. This will surely break the mill owners’ ranks and they’ll give in and pay their fines.”
“What if he doesn’t comply, Sheriff? What if he refuses to pay the fine?”
“I’m sure the prospect of jail will bring him to see reason. He can’t run his business from behind bars. No, he’ll figure it’s far more preferable and ultimately less costly to pay the fine.”
Sheriff Whiting and Deputy Quigley arrived in town just before sunset. They immediately inquired among the first people they encountered as to the whereabouts of Ebenezer Mudgett. But, the townspeople would not cooperate. Every person they spoke with declined to give away the fugitive’s location. No one would so much as point in the general direction.
Sheriff Whiting was a refined, but stern and straightforward man. He discharged his duties with zeal and took personal pleasure from his work. An educated and sophisticated individual, Whiting displayed a superior attitude – something that did not bode well with many colonists. His aloof personality preceded him, a pomposity so well-known he commanded almost no respect from the very people he supposedly served.
“You there, outside the tavern! Tell me, good sir, where I might find Mr. Ebenezer Mudgett?”
“Oh, Sheriff, I’m not sure.”
“Not sure, huh? Deputy Quibley, please explain to me why no one in this little, miserable town knows the vicinity of the most notorious criminal of the Crown in this wretched region?”
“I can’t, Sheriff.”
“So Deputy, I believe stronger measures are warranted. Since you sir won’t be honest with an official of the King himself, I am fully justified in taking you into custody. Or, perhaps I ought to visit your home. Deputy Quigley and I are quite experienced in uncovering illegal activities. Maybe you too are violating one or more of the King’s laws?”
“There’s no need to threaten him, Sheriff, I’m right here!”
“Mr. Ebenezer Mudgett! Pleased to finally meet you. I am here to execute a warrant that orders your immediate arrest. Deputy, would you be so good as to take this man into custody?”
“Honorable Sheriff, I will not resist any longer. In fact, I am fully prepared to pay the fine I owe. If you will allow, I’ll meet you at Aaron Quimby’s Inn tomorrow morning.”
“I appreciate your cooperation and accept your invitation, Mr. Mudgett. My deputy and I will be more than happy to meet you in the morning at Quimby’s Inn. We’ll settle the matter then. Good night to you, sir.”
“Good evening to you, Sheriff.”
Though the two made a mutual arrangement, news of Sheriff Whiting’s presence spread quickly through the town of Weare. Later that same evening, scores of men gathered at Ebenezer’s home, determined to formulate a plan for dealing with Whiting. However, the Sheriff and Deputy spent the rest of their night at a local tavern drinking, eating, and making merry. Meanwhile, back at Mudgett’s house, the men debated among themselves.
“Let’s just all pitch in a little each and pay the stupid fine!”
“No, no, no! We should chase the scoundrels out of town!”
“Gentlemen, gentlemen! I sincerely appreciate your enthusiasm! Now, I did agree to pay the fine, but each man here should know full well that it was merely a ruse.”
The next morning, about twenty men blackened their faces, grabbed switches, and burst into Sheriff Whiting’s room, with Ebenezer eagerly leading the way. The officer, startled awake, quickly reached for his pistols, pointing them at the intruders, threatening to shoot them. But, the lawman was immediately overpowered, his guns taken away, and forced onto the floor, face down.
They hastily jerked Whiting from off the floor, holding him upside down in a suspended prostrate position by his arms and legs, face down so he had no real chance of identifying any involved. The men spent the next several minutes exacting revenge on the Sheriff, whipping him and carving a crude ledger onto his bare back as Mudgett yelled out, “This is Weare, where white pine trees grow free!”
Deputy Quigley, hearing the immense ruckus, attempted to escape from his room, only to be met by some of the men, who forcibly removed the floorboards from the room and beat him with the wooden planks.
When the men finished brutally punishing the Sheriff and Deputy, they crudely cropped the lawmen’s horses’ ears and sheared the animal’s manes and tails – ruining the equestrians’ value.
Bruised, bloody, and dazed, Whiting and Quigley were thrust onto the backs of their mutilated horses, forced to ride off to Goffstown in shame. Weeks later, the Sheriff successfully recruited a military man, Colonel Moore from the town of Bedford, along with Edward Goldstone Lutwyche of Merrimack. Together, they organized a posse to return to Weare to arrest the rioters.
But, the culprits had already fled and only one involved in the actual assault was arrested. Some others named in the plot were arrested, ordered to post bail, and appear in court. Ultimately, eight men were criminally charged with battery, disturbing the peace, and rioting.
In September of 1772, judges William Parker, Theodore Atkinson, Leverett Hubbard, and Meshech Weare heard the case in Amherst Superior Court. The men pleaded guilty, were fined 20 shillings apiece, and ordered to pay restitution for the cost of the hearing.
Ebenezer Mudgett continued to run his lumber mill and trade as a liquor merchant until 1977. That year, at the age of 51, he fought in the American Revolution. Ebenezer was among fifteen colonists sent to Vermont to help fight against the British redcoats in a militia. On August 16th, Mudgett and the other patriots attacked and defeated the redcoats, along with Hessian mercenaries in the Battle of Bennington.
During the fight, over two hundred enemy troops were killed by the makeshift militia and more than seven hundred and fifty prisoners were taken. The engagement is still arguably a key turning point in the War of Independence.
Ebenezer Mudgett later died in 1789 at about age 63 in Weare, Hillsborough County, New Hampshire.
Pine trees became a symbol used on some of the first flags flown in the American Revolution.
