Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Marinus Willett: Forgotten Savior of Peekskill
LOWER HUDSON VALLEY
No Peekskill street bears his name. No statue of him graces any Peekskill park. No memorial plaque commemorating his stunning exploits during the Revolution can be found anywhere in Peekskill. He was Lt. Col. Marinus Willett, an outstanding soldier whose determined action saved Peekskill from destruction at the hands of the British. Yet he is hardly remembered by the community he delivered from the enemy.
An obvious key objective of British forces during the war, Peekskill guarded the southern gate to the Hudson Highlands, a natural mountainous barrier. Part of the Appalachian chain, the Highlands commanded a vital avenue of communication--the crucial waterway known as the North River, today called the Hudson to honor its discoverer.
Travel back in time to the spring of 1777. British forces had wintered comfortably in New York City and now occupy Westchester as far north as Dobbs Ferry. Above the Croton River, American forces are in control. In between is the so-called "Neutral Ground." Raided by marauding Tory forces called "skinners," who steal cattle from farmers to sell to the British in New York City, the region is defended by patriot militia and irregulars called "cowboys."
In command of Continental forces in the Highlands and headquartered at Peekskill is Scottish-born Lt. Gen. Alexander McDougall, a dedicated patriot. Only eight years before he had been suspected of writing an anonymous anti-British pamphlet. Refusing to post bail, he was held in New York's infamous Bridewell Prison for more than a year. In 1776, he fought delaying actions against the British at Brooklyn Heights and White Plains. In one of those peculiar transpositions that takes place in street names, MacDougal Street in New York's Greenwich Village is named for him.
Commanding at Fort Independence on Roa Hook (opposite the present entrance to Camp Smith) is Lt. Col. Marinus Willett, who spends every available moment drilling his New York militia troops of the Third Regiment. At Peekskill, McDougall's forces erect redoubts and barracks in a military complex on a series of three hills lying south of the present Bear Mountain State Parkway.
The British attack Peekskill
On Sunday, March 23, 1777, an attack force consisting of the British frigate Brune, four transports and other naval support craft appears in the Hudson off Peekskill. About 500 British troops and four light cannons served by sailors are landed unopposed in Lent's Cove, between Charles Point and Indian Point. Their intention is to destroy the Continental encampment and any wharves, warehouses, buildings, equipment or supplies useful to the American cause.
General McDougall decides that his Peekskill garrison is too small to attack the superior British force.
Prudently, McDougall withdraws his troops to the north of Peekskill. A defeat at the hands of the enemy would open the Highlands and jeopardize the weapons and supplies stored at Continental Village and Fishkill. The retreating Americans burn one of the barracks on Fort Hill, thus denying it to the occupying British. For the same reason, they burn a mill on McGregory Creek and several warehouses near the waterfront.
The British set up their four cannons on Drum Hill and fire on Peekskill. A Continental soldier, Nathaniel Brown, is killed by a rock fragment thrown up by the artillery fire. The spring near which he is standing will hereafter be known as the Soldier's Spring.
General McDougall sends an urgent message to Lt.-Col. Marinus Willett on Roa Hook telling him to leave the fort in charge of a subordinate and to meet him at Bald Hill (north of the present Van Cortlandtville) with a detachment of troops. Later, after the hanging of British spy Edmund Palmer, the hill will acquire the more sinister name it bears to this day: Gallows Hill.
Colonel Willett reports
At about three in the afternoon, Marinus Willett and 80 soldiers join McDougall on Bald Hill. Quickly taking in the situation, Willett sees British troops on a hill to the south of Peekskill Hollow Creek (the site of the present Cortlandt town hall), where they have set fire to a house. He immediately proposes to attack them by circling to their rear and asks McDougall to make a feint to the left to distract attention from his flanking movement.
Initially uncomfortable with this plan, McDougall prefers to wait for Dutchess County militia reinforcements expected the next day. Willett pesters the reluctant commander, who finally gives him permission to execute his plan. He quickly orders his troops forward, moving them through a gully with guns "at trail" to avoid detection. After being delayed by two fences at which they are subject to enemy fire, Willett gives the order to fix bayonets and charge. On hearing that chilling command, the British troops fall back to the Post Road.
Confusion reigns in the gathering darkness. Unfamiliar with the terrain, the entire British force soon is in retreat back to their boats, leaving behind the baggage and supplies that had been landed with their expedition. One abandoned item, a blue cloak made of camlet (a mixture of silk and wool) will have special significance for Marinus Willett.
Willett's decisiveness and the actions of his well-drilled troops undoubtedly saved Peekskill from the fate of other rebel towns struck in lightning raids. Burning was a common British retaliatory tactic. They had burned White Plains the previous autumn after the battle there. One month after their attack on Peekskill, Danbury, Connecticut, will be raided, and homes, warehouses and provisions destroyed. Later in 1777, they will burn the upriver town of Kingston, temporary New York capital.
Two years later, the same fate awaits the Connecticut towns of Groton, New Haven, East Haven, Fairfield and Green's Farms. New London will be savagely torched in 1781. Peekskill will be overrun twice for protracted periods by the British--in the fall of 1777 to guard their flank in the attack on Forts Clinton and Montgomery near Bear Mountain, and again in the summer and fall of 1779 during their campaign to capture Stony Point and Verplanck's Point. On each of these occasions, the enemy's troops will remain longer and wreak greater havoc than before. By then, Marinus Willett and his troops will be long since gone. One likes to think the outcome of these occupations might have been different had he been left in Peekskill.
A forgotten hero
Marinus Willett was born on July 31, 1740, in Jamaica, Long Island. Originally called Rustdorp by the Dutch, when the Brotish took over in 1664 they named it Jameco, after the Lenape word for beaver. The tenth of thirteen children and one of the six sons of Aletta Clowes and Edward Willettm, he was named for a great uncle, Marinus Van Varick. Little is known about his childhood, except that he worked as a cabinet maker. At the age of 18, he gained military experience as a lieutenant in the French and Indian War by taking part in attacks on French-held Forts Ticonderoga and Frontenac.
In the years before the Revolution, Willett was a fiery member of the Sons of Liberty. Like other secret societies, it was formed to protest the onerous 1765 Stamp Act, intended to pay for stationing British troops in the colonies. Repeal of the unpopular act a year later did not extinguish the flames of rebellion it had fanned.
After the news of armed rebellion at Lexington and Concord reached New York in April of 1775, the British decided to evacuate the city. On June 6th, seeing a British detachment taking five wagonloads of muskets to the docks, Willett dashed into the street, grabbed the bridle of the lead horse and stopped the column.
An unruly crowd gathered, and Willett--by now an accomplished rabble-rouser--stirred them up. He announced to the astonished British that they could only leave the city with the personal weapons they carried. The spare guns would have to remain, and remain they did. Willett even persuaded one of the British soldiers to join the American cause. In 1892, a plaque commemorating this event was placed by the Sons of the Revolution on an office building at the corner of Broad and Beaver streets. Two months after the seizure of the British weapons, Willett became a captain in Col. Alexander McDougall's First New York militia regiment and took part in the misguided and abortive invasion of Canada.
The defense of Fort Stanwix
After his victory at Peekskill, Willett's finest hour came in August of 1777 at strategic Fort Stanwix, now restored in the heart of downtown Rome, N.Y. Besieged by a superior force led by British Lt. Col. Barry St. Leger, the garrison showed its defiance by hastily sewing together a battle flag. The camlet cloak seized at Peekskill supplied the material for the blue field for pennant flown over the fort. While St. Leger was attacking the relief column of militia Gen. Nicholas Herkimer attempting to reach the fort, Willett led a small force from the fort and attacked the lightly guarded camps of the besiegers, seizing equipment and supplies and carrying them into Fort Stanwix.
As second in command, Willett was chosen to respond to a British demand for the surrender of Fort Stanwix. To the major who brought it, he described the ultimatum as "a degrading message for a British officer to send and a less than reputable message for another British officer to carry." Willett followed his defiance with another remarkable feat. Accompanied by militia lieutenant Levi Stockwell, a resourceful hunter and woodsman, he slipped from the fort and through the lines of the besieging British and Indians. Each man was armed only with a spontoon, a shafted weapon about eight feet long, with a sharp blade at one end. To conceal their tracks, they walked in streams; they lit no fires, eating only the cheese and hardtack they carried. Without blankets, they huddled together at night on the cold ground.
After covering the 50 miles to Fort Dayton (now Herkimer, N.Y.) in two days, they learned that a relief force had already been dispatched to raise the siege of Fort Stanwix. The operation was commanded by adventurous and unpredictable Gen. Benedict Arnold. A scant two months later, in defiance of orders, Arnold would assault and defeat the British decisively at Saratoga. British General Burgoyne's surrender would mark the turning point of the war. Ironically, Arnold, later headquartered at West Point and bitter over real or imaginary slights, would sell out to the British.
For Willett's repeated acts of bravery, Congress later voted to present him with "an elegant sword," now on display in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City.
Worn out by incessant warfare, Willett retired on New Year's Day in 1781, but soon accepted Gov. George Clinton's appeal to command New York troops in repelling continuing Tory and Indian attacks in the Mohawk Valley. With the Revolution winding down, in 1783 he led an ill-advised and unsuccessful attempt to attack the British base at Oswego by troops on snowshoes.
Following the Revolution, confiscated estates of Tories were sold at ridiculously low prices. Marinus Willett bought a large tract formerly owned by the DeLancey family. Overlooking the busy East River, the area was referred to as Corlear's Hook. Part of the teeming Lower East Side, the site of Willett's estate is today covered by public housing projects; in Willett's time it was a pleasantly rural area.
Willett built a two-story mansion with small wings at each end as a home for himself and his wife. Surrounded by spacious grounds containing gardens, carriageways, walks, arbors, and fruit and shade trees, it was famous for luscious pears and delicious melons. He called the estate Cedar Grove. Two street names near the site of his former estate--Willett Street and Sheriff Street--are the only reminders of his presence there.
Willett and the Indians
In 1790, President Washington sent Marinus Willett as his personal representative to negotiate with the Creek Nation, a powerful Indian tribe in Georgia and Alabama. So successful was his diplomacy, he returned to New York escorting Alexander McGillivray, the tribe's wily half-breed chief, and a delegation of sub-chiefs. After a succession of festivities, including a reception by President Washington and Governor Clinton, a peace treaty was signed with the Creeks. Willett's signature appears on this historic document as a witness.
Other Indian tribes northwest of the Ohio River actively resisted the inroads of settlers. To take advantage of Willett's knowledge of Indian-fighting, George Washington decided in 1792 to appoint him a brigadier general to conduct a campaign on the Ohio frontier. Privately, the secretary of war, Henry Knox, tipped off Willett about the impending appointment. In a little-known letter, he demonstrated how intuitive he was about Indian affairs. He thanked Washington for the honor, but declined to serve against the Indians.
"It has been my uniform opinion that the United States ought to avoid an Indian war. I have generally conceived this to be our wisest policy The reasons alleged in support of the present Indian war have never brought conviction to my mind," Willett wrote. "From my knowledge and experience of these people, I am clear that it is not a difficult thing to preserve peace with them. That there are bad men among them, and that these will at times do acts which deserve punishment is very clear. But I hold that to go to war is not the proper way to punish them."
He concluded with, "Though they are not free from chicanery and intrigue, yet if their vanity is properly humored, and they are dealt justly by, it is no difficult matter to come to terms with them. The intercourse I have had with these people, the treatment I have myself received from them, and which I have known others to receive, makes me an advocate for them. To fight with them would be the last thing I should desire." If others in government had shared these enlightened attitudes, the entire course of this nation's relations with Indian tribes might have been different.
Family matters
Some sources suggest that the Willett's marriage had been strained by his long absences on military duty and by a scandal that erupted in 1781. While stationed at Fort Plain, four miles west of Canajoharie, the tall and handsome Willett met Elizabeth Seeber, an attractive woman living apart from her husband. Separated from his wife and still mourning the untimely death of his son in the Continental service three years before, Willett began a liaison with Mrs. Seeber that set tongues to wagging.
In the course of time, Mrs. Seeber gave birth to a boy, who was given the name Marinus W. Seeber. Willett made no secret of his paternity, providing child support and money for the youth's education. Years later, now a grown man, his son returned to Fort Plain as a dancing master. But illegitimacy was then a label one carried forever, and townspeople made life uncomfortable for him. An innocent victim of bigotry, Marinus W. Seeber left for parts unknown and disappeared from the pages of history.
Whatever the state of their marriage, in 1793 Willett's wife of 33 years, Mary Pearsee, died at Cedar Grove. He lost no time in becoming enamored of Susannah Vardill, a beautiful widow who had already buried two husbands. She was described as "the reigning toast of New York society." They were married on October 3, 1793, three months to the day after his first wife's death. The "toast" soon lost its zest for him, and the marriage became an unhappy one. Willett discovered that he had gotten more than he bargained for. His new wife turned out to be a vixen and a spitfire. Susannah loved to gossip--even about her husband--and the marriage eventually soured. Mrs. Willett filed for divorce in 1799.
Marinus Willett next lost his heart to Margaret Bancker, the young daughter of Willett's friends, Christopher and Mary Smith Bancker. Willett was 59; she was 24. Despite the disparity in their ages, they married. This third marriage for Willett produced four children--three sons and a daughter. One son became a physician, another a minister, and the third a lawyer
In politics and out
Willett was a founding member of the Society of the Cincinnati formed by officers of the Continental Army. To counter their aristocratic pretensions, the Tammany Society was organized, and he became one of its leaders. An ardent foe of Alexander Hamilton and the Federalists, he cast his lot with the anti-Federalists, joining Gov. George Clinton and Aaron Burr in unsuccessfully opposing New York's ratification of the new national constitution.
He had better luck in appointive office than in elective office. Although he had been elected to the New York State Assembly in 1784, he resigned his seat to accept appointment as sheriff of the city and county of New York, a post he held until 1788. In 1792, Willett again was named sheriff for a second four-year term.
In 1807, he was appointed mayor of New York City to succeed DeWitt Clinton, serving until 1808. [For the first 150 years of the city's existence, mayors were appointed.] The mayoralty was a fitting honor; in 1665, Thomas Willett, his great, great grandfather, had been the first mayor of New York City under English rule.
Four years later, as a candidate for the post of lieutenant governor, Marinus Willett was defeated by DeWitt Clinton. In or out of office, he was always in the public eye. During the darkest days of the War of 1812, he gave a rousing patriotic speech to a large crowd assembled in City Hall Park. In 1824, he was named a presidential elector in the bitter election that made John Quincy Adams president.
Death of a hero
Marinus Willett died in his home at Cedar Grove on August 22, 1830, three weeks past his 90th birthday. By an odd coincidence, this was the anniversary of the lifting of the siege of Fort Stanwix 53 years before. The entire city mouned his passing. His immense funeral procession, including military units and the Common Council, wound through streets lined with grieving spectators from Cedar Grove to Trinity Church at Wall Street and Broadway.
After the funeral ceremony, by the light of flickering torches his body was placed in the family vault at the southwest corner of the churchyard. A cannon at the Battery solemnly boomed ninety times at one-minute intervals to mark his ninety years of life. In death, he reposes in the same churchyard with his arch-enemy Alexander Hamilton, buried there in 1804 after his fatal duel with Aaron Burr.
Time and the elements have badly eroded Marinus Willett's name on the red Connecticut sandstone slab covering the Willett vault and making it almost unreadable. A more permanent plaque erected in 1969 by the Sons of the American Revolution can be found nearby. Yet, in Westchester, Marinus Willett still waits to be memorialized. A plaque or some other tangible expression of Peekskill's gratitude to him would be a good start.
No Peekskill street bears his name. No statue of him graces any Peekskill park. No memorial plaque commemorating his stunning exploits during the Revolution can be found anywhere in Peekskill. He was Lt. Col. Marinus Willett, an outstanding soldier whose determined action saved Peekskill from destruction at the hands of the British. Yet he is hardly remembered by the community he delivered from the enemy.
An obvious key objective of British forces during the war, Peekskill guarded the southern gate to the Hudson Highlands, a natural mountainous barrier. Part of the Appalachian chain, the Highlands commanded a vital avenue of communication--the crucial waterway known as the North River, today called the Hudson to honor its discoverer.
Travel back in time to the spring of 1777. British forces had wintered comfortably in New York City and now occupy Westchester as far north as Dobbs Ferry. Above the Croton River, American forces are in control. In between is the so-called "Neutral Ground." Raided by marauding Tory forces called "skinners," who steal cattle from farmers to sell to the British in New York City, the region is defended by patriot militia and irregulars called "cowboys."
In command of Continental forces in the Highlands and headquartered at Peekskill is Scottish-born Lt. Gen. Alexander McDougall, a dedicated patriot. Only eight years before he had been suspected of writing an anonymous anti-British pamphlet. Refusing to post bail, he was held in New York's infamous Bridewell Prison for more than a year. In 1776, he fought delaying actions against the British at Brooklyn Heights and White Plains. In one of those peculiar transpositions that takes place in street names, MacDougal Street in New York's Greenwich Village is named for him.
Commanding at Fort Independence on Roa Hook (opposite the present entrance to Camp Smith) is Lt. Col. Marinus Willett, who spends every available moment drilling his New York militia troops of the Third Regiment. At Peekskill, McDougall's forces erect redoubts and barracks in a military complex on a series of three hills lying south of the present Bear Mountain State Parkway.
The British attack Peekskill
On Sunday, March 23, 1777, an attack force consisting of the British frigate Brune, four transports and other naval support craft appears in the Hudson off Peekskill. About 500 British troops and four light cannons served by sailors are landed unopposed in Lent's Cove, between Charles Point and Indian Point. Their intention is to destroy the Continental encampment and any wharves, warehouses, buildings, equipment or supplies useful to the American cause.
General McDougall decides that his Peekskill garrison is too small to attack the superior British force.
Prudently, McDougall withdraws his troops to the north of Peekskill. A defeat at the hands of the enemy would open the Highlands and jeopardize the weapons and supplies stored at Continental Village and Fishkill. The retreating Americans burn one of the barracks on Fort Hill, thus denying it to the occupying British. For the same reason, they burn a mill on McGregory Creek and several warehouses near the waterfront.
The British set up their four cannons on Drum Hill and fire on Peekskill. A Continental soldier, Nathaniel Brown, is killed by a rock fragment thrown up by the artillery fire. The spring near which he is standing will hereafter be known as the Soldier's Spring.
General McDougall sends an urgent message to Lt.-Col. Marinus Willett on Roa Hook telling him to leave the fort in charge of a subordinate and to meet him at Bald Hill (north of the present Van Cortlandtville) with a detachment of troops. Later, after the hanging of British spy Edmund Palmer, the hill will acquire the more sinister name it bears to this day: Gallows Hill.
Colonel Willett reports
At about three in the afternoon, Marinus Willett and 80 soldiers join McDougall on Bald Hill. Quickly taking in the situation, Willett sees British troops on a hill to the south of Peekskill Hollow Creek (the site of the present Cortlandt town hall), where they have set fire to a house. He immediately proposes to attack them by circling to their rear and asks McDougall to make a feint to the left to distract attention from his flanking movement.
Initially uncomfortable with this plan, McDougall prefers to wait for Dutchess County militia reinforcements expected the next day. Willett pesters the reluctant commander, who finally gives him permission to execute his plan. He quickly orders his troops forward, moving them through a gully with guns "at trail" to avoid detection. After being delayed by two fences at which they are subject to enemy fire, Willett gives the order to fix bayonets and charge. On hearing that chilling command, the British troops fall back to the Post Road.
Confusion reigns in the gathering darkness. Unfamiliar with the terrain, the entire British force soon is in retreat back to their boats, leaving behind the baggage and supplies that had been landed with their expedition. One abandoned item, a blue cloak made of camlet (a mixture of silk and wool) will have special significance for Marinus Willett.
Willett's decisiveness and the actions of his well-drilled troops undoubtedly saved Peekskill from the fate of other rebel towns struck in lightning raids. Burning was a common British retaliatory tactic. They had burned White Plains the previous autumn after the battle there. One month after their attack on Peekskill, Danbury, Connecticut, will be raided, and homes, warehouses and provisions destroyed. Later in 1777, they will burn the upriver town of Kingston, temporary New York capital.
Two years later, the same fate awaits the Connecticut towns of Groton, New Haven, East Haven, Fairfield and Green's Farms. New London will be savagely torched in 1781. Peekskill will be overrun twice for protracted periods by the British--in the fall of 1777 to guard their flank in the attack on Forts Clinton and Montgomery near Bear Mountain, and again in the summer and fall of 1779 during their campaign to capture Stony Point and Verplanck's Point. On each of these occasions, the enemy's troops will remain longer and wreak greater havoc than before. By then, Marinus Willett and his troops will be long since gone. One likes to think the outcome of these occupations might have been different had he been left in Peekskill.
A forgotten hero
Marinus Willett was born on July 31, 1740, in Jamaica, Long Island. Originally called Rustdorp by the Dutch, when the Brotish took over in 1664 they named it Jameco, after the Lenape word for beaver. The tenth of thirteen children and one of the six sons of Aletta Clowes and Edward Willettm, he was named for a great uncle, Marinus Van Varick. Little is known about his childhood, except that he worked as a cabinet maker. At the age of 18, he gained military experience as a lieutenant in the French and Indian War by taking part in attacks on French-held Forts Ticonderoga and Frontenac.
In the years before the Revolution, Willett was a fiery member of the Sons of Liberty. Like other secret societies, it was formed to protest the onerous 1765 Stamp Act, intended to pay for stationing British troops in the colonies. Repeal of the unpopular act a year later did not extinguish the flames of rebellion it had fanned.
After the news of armed rebellion at Lexington and Concord reached New York in April of 1775, the British decided to evacuate the city. On June 6th, seeing a British detachment taking five wagonloads of muskets to the docks, Willett dashed into the street, grabbed the bridle of the lead horse and stopped the column.
An unruly crowd gathered, and Willett--by now an accomplished rabble-rouser--stirred them up. He announced to the astonished British that they could only leave the city with the personal weapons they carried. The spare guns would have to remain, and remain they did. Willett even persuaded one of the British soldiers to join the American cause. In 1892, a plaque commemorating this event was placed by the Sons of the Revolution on an office building at the corner of Broad and Beaver streets. Two months after the seizure of the British weapons, Willett became a captain in Col. Alexander McDougall's First New York militia regiment and took part in the misguided and abortive invasion of Canada.
The defense of Fort Stanwix
After his victory at Peekskill, Willett's finest hour came in August of 1777 at strategic Fort Stanwix, now restored in the heart of downtown Rome, N.Y. Besieged by a superior force led by British Lt. Col. Barry St. Leger, the garrison showed its defiance by hastily sewing together a battle flag. The camlet cloak seized at Peekskill supplied the material for the blue field for pennant flown over the fort. While St. Leger was attacking the relief column of militia Gen. Nicholas Herkimer attempting to reach the fort, Willett led a small force from the fort and attacked the lightly guarded camps of the besiegers, seizing equipment and supplies and carrying them into Fort Stanwix.
As second in command, Willett was chosen to respond to a British demand for the surrender of Fort Stanwix. To the major who brought it, he described the ultimatum as "a degrading message for a British officer to send and a less than reputable message for another British officer to carry." Willett followed his defiance with another remarkable feat. Accompanied by militia lieutenant Levi Stockwell, a resourceful hunter and woodsman, he slipped from the fort and through the lines of the besieging British and Indians. Each man was armed only with a spontoon, a shafted weapon about eight feet long, with a sharp blade at one end. To conceal their tracks, they walked in streams; they lit no fires, eating only the cheese and hardtack they carried. Without blankets, they huddled together at night on the cold ground.
After covering the 50 miles to Fort Dayton (now Herkimer, N.Y.) in two days, they learned that a relief force had already been dispatched to raise the siege of Fort Stanwix. The operation was commanded by adventurous and unpredictable Gen. Benedict Arnold. A scant two months later, in defiance of orders, Arnold would assault and defeat the British decisively at Saratoga. British General Burgoyne's surrender would mark the turning point of the war. Ironically, Arnold, later headquartered at West Point and bitter over real or imaginary slights, would sell out to the British.
For Willett's repeated acts of bravery, Congress later voted to present him with "an elegant sword," now on display in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City.
Worn out by incessant warfare, Willett retired on New Year's Day in 1781, but soon accepted Gov. George Clinton's appeal to command New York troops in repelling continuing Tory and Indian attacks in the Mohawk Valley. With the Revolution winding down, in 1783 he led an ill-advised and unsuccessful attempt to attack the British base at Oswego by troops on snowshoes.
Following the Revolution, confiscated estates of Tories were sold at ridiculously low prices. Marinus Willett bought a large tract formerly owned by the DeLancey family. Overlooking the busy East River, the area was referred to as Corlear's Hook. Part of the teeming Lower East Side, the site of Willett's estate is today covered by public housing projects; in Willett's time it was a pleasantly rural area.
Willett built a two-story mansion with small wings at each end as a home for himself and his wife. Surrounded by spacious grounds containing gardens, carriageways, walks, arbors, and fruit and shade trees, it was famous for luscious pears and delicious melons. He called the estate Cedar Grove. Two street names near the site of his former estate--Willett Street and Sheriff Street--are the only reminders of his presence there.
Willett and the Indians
In 1790, President Washington sent Marinus Willett as his personal representative to negotiate with the Creek Nation, a powerful Indian tribe in Georgia and Alabama. So successful was his diplomacy, he returned to New York escorting Alexander McGillivray, the tribe's wily half-breed chief, and a delegation of sub-chiefs. After a succession of festivities, including a reception by President Washington and Governor Clinton, a peace treaty was signed with the Creeks. Willett's signature appears on this historic document as a witness.
Other Indian tribes northwest of the Ohio River actively resisted the inroads of settlers. To take advantage of Willett's knowledge of Indian-fighting, George Washington decided in 1792 to appoint him a brigadier general to conduct a campaign on the Ohio frontier. Privately, the secretary of war, Henry Knox, tipped off Willett about the impending appointment. In a little-known letter, he demonstrated how intuitive he was about Indian affairs. He thanked Washington for the honor, but declined to serve against the Indians.
"It has been my uniform opinion that the United States ought to avoid an Indian war. I have generally conceived this to be our wisest policy The reasons alleged in support of the present Indian war have never brought conviction to my mind," Willett wrote. "From my knowledge and experience of these people, I am clear that it is not a difficult thing to preserve peace with them. That there are bad men among them, and that these will at times do acts which deserve punishment is very clear. But I hold that to go to war is not the proper way to punish them."
He concluded with, "Though they are not free from chicanery and intrigue, yet if their vanity is properly humored, and they are dealt justly by, it is no difficult matter to come to terms with them. The intercourse I have had with these people, the treatment I have myself received from them, and which I have known others to receive, makes me an advocate for them. To fight with them would be the last thing I should desire." If others in government had shared these enlightened attitudes, the entire course of this nation's relations with Indian tribes might have been different.
Family matters
Some sources suggest that the Willett's marriage had been strained by his long absences on military duty and by a scandal that erupted in 1781. While stationed at Fort Plain, four miles west of Canajoharie, the tall and handsome Willett met Elizabeth Seeber, an attractive woman living apart from her husband. Separated from his wife and still mourning the untimely death of his son in the Continental service three years before, Willett began a liaison with Mrs. Seeber that set tongues to wagging.
In the course of time, Mrs. Seeber gave birth to a boy, who was given the name Marinus W. Seeber. Willett made no secret of his paternity, providing child support and money for the youth's education. Years later, now a grown man, his son returned to Fort Plain as a dancing master. But illegitimacy was then a label one carried forever, and townspeople made life uncomfortable for him. An innocent victim of bigotry, Marinus W. Seeber left for parts unknown and disappeared from the pages of history.
Whatever the state of their marriage, in 1793 Willett's wife of 33 years, Mary Pearsee, died at Cedar Grove. He lost no time in becoming enamored of Susannah Vardill, a beautiful widow who had already buried two husbands. She was described as "the reigning toast of New York society." They were married on October 3, 1793, three months to the day after his first wife's death. The "toast" soon lost its zest for him, and the marriage became an unhappy one. Willett discovered that he had gotten more than he bargained for. His new wife turned out to be a vixen and a spitfire. Susannah loved to gossip--even about her husband--and the marriage eventually soured. Mrs. Willett filed for divorce in 1799.
Marinus Willett next lost his heart to Margaret Bancker, the young daughter of Willett's friends, Christopher and Mary Smith Bancker. Willett was 59; she was 24. Despite the disparity in their ages, they married. This third marriage for Willett produced four children--three sons and a daughter. One son became a physician, another a minister, and the third a lawyer
In politics and out
Willett was a founding member of the Society of the Cincinnati formed by officers of the Continental Army. To counter their aristocratic pretensions, the Tammany Society was organized, and he became one of its leaders. An ardent foe of Alexander Hamilton and the Federalists, he cast his lot with the anti-Federalists, joining Gov. George Clinton and Aaron Burr in unsuccessfully opposing New York's ratification of the new national constitution.
He had better luck in appointive office than in elective office. Although he had been elected to the New York State Assembly in 1784, he resigned his seat to accept appointment as sheriff of the city and county of New York, a post he held until 1788. In 1792, Willett again was named sheriff for a second four-year term.
In 1807, he was appointed mayor of New York City to succeed DeWitt Clinton, serving until 1808. [For the first 150 years of the city's existence, mayors were appointed.] The mayoralty was a fitting honor; in 1665, Thomas Willett, his great, great grandfather, had been the first mayor of New York City under English rule.
Four years later, as a candidate for the post of lieutenant governor, Marinus Willett was defeated by DeWitt Clinton. In or out of office, he was always in the public eye. During the darkest days of the War of 1812, he gave a rousing patriotic speech to a large crowd assembled in City Hall Park. In 1824, he was named a presidential elector in the bitter election that made John Quincy Adams president.
Death of a hero
Marinus Willett died in his home at Cedar Grove on August 22, 1830, three weeks past his 90th birthday. By an odd coincidence, this was the anniversary of the lifting of the siege of Fort Stanwix 53 years before. The entire city mouned his passing. His immense funeral procession, including military units and the Common Council, wound through streets lined with grieving spectators from Cedar Grove to Trinity Church at Wall Street and Broadway.
After the funeral ceremony, by the light of flickering torches his body was placed in the family vault at the southwest corner of the churchyard. A cannon at the Battery solemnly boomed ninety times at one-minute intervals to mark his ninety years of life. In death, he reposes in the same churchyard with his arch-enemy Alexander Hamilton, buried there in 1804 after his fatal duel with Aaron Burr.
Time and the elements have badly eroded Marinus Willett's name on the red Connecticut sandstone slab covering the Willett vault and making it almost unreadable. A more permanent plaque erected in 1969 by the Sons of the American Revolution can be found nearby. Yet, in Westchester, Marinus Willett still waits to be memorialized. A plaque or some other tangible expression of Peekskill's gratitude to him would be a good start.
Labels: Fort Stanwix, Marinus Willett, Peekskill
Monday, November 16, 2009
The Anatomy of Humor: The Wit and Wisdom of Samuel Butler
HUMOR
Victorian novelist Samuel Butler was born in 1835 and died in 1902, almost perfectly matching in his life the years of Queen Victoria’s reign (1837-1901). His ancestors were clerics, and he was trained for the clergy. Becoming disillusioned during his training while serving in a poverty-stricken part of London, he emigrated to New Zealand and became a sheep farmer.
After returning to England, he wrote the utopian novel Erewhon in which foresaw thinking machines and on which his literary reputation principally rests. (The title is an anagram of the word "nowhere.") His semi-autobiographical novel The Way of All Flesh did not appear until after his death and was heavily edited. The original version of the manuscript was not published until 1965.
Early in his life, Samuel Butler began to carry a notebook in which he wrote anything he wanted to remember. It might be something he heard someone say. More likely, it was something he said himself. On his death in 1902, he left five bound volumes of about 225 pages each, with the contents dated and indexed, and enough separate sheets to make a sixth colume of the same size.
If you have not yet discovered the wit and wisdom of Samuel Butler contained in his notebooks, here are a few examples to whet your appetite:
A drunkard would not give money to sober people. He said they would only eat it, and buy clothes and send their children to school with it.
A hen is only an egg's way of making another egg.
A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, but a little want of knowledge is also a dangerous thing.
A man should be just cultured enough to be able to look with suspicion upon culture at first-, not second-hand.
A sense of humor keen enough to show a man his own absurdities will keep him from the commission of all sins, or nearly all, save those worth committing.
A virtue to be serviceable must, like gold, be alloyed with some commoner, but more durable alloy.
Academic and aristocratic people live in such an uncommon atmosphere that common sense can rarely reach them.
All animals, except man, know that the principal business of life is to enjoy it.
All philosophies, if you ride them home, are nonsense, but some are greater nonsense than others.
All progress is based upon a universal innate desire on the part of every organism to live beyond its income.
All truth is not to be told at all times.
Any fool can tell the truth, but it requires a man of some sense to know how to lie well.
Be virtuous and you will be vicious.
Death is only a larger kind of going abroad.
Do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Let the day's own trouble be sufficient for the day.
Evil is like water, it abounds, is cheap, soon fouls, but runs itself clear of taint.
Fear is static that prevents me from hearing myself.
Friendship is like money, easier made than kept.
From a worldly point of view, there is no mistake so great as that of being always right.
God cannot alter the past, though historians can.
He that complies against his will is of his own opinion still.
Human life is as evanescent as the morning dew or a flash of lightning.
I do not mind lying, but I hate inaccuracy.
I never knew a writer yet who took the smallest pains with his style and was at the same time readable.
I really do not see much use in exalting the humble and meek; they do not remain humble and meek long when they are exalted.
If the headache would only precede the intoxication, alcoholism would be a virtue.
If we attend continually and promptly to the little that we can do, we shall erelong be surprised to find how little remains that we cannot do.
In law, nothing is certain but the expense.
Is life worth living? This is a question for an embryo not for a man.
It has been said that the love of money is the root of all evil. The want
of money is so quite as truly.
It is better to have loved and lost than never to have lost at all.
It is not he who gains the exact point in dispute who scores most in controversy--but he who has shown the better temper.
It is seldom very hard to do one's duty when one knows what it is, but it is often exceedingly difficult to find this out.
It is tact that is golden, not silence.
It is the function of vice to keep virtue within reasonable bounds.
Let us be grateful to the mirror for revealing to us our appearance only.
Letters are like wine; if they are sound they ripen with keeping. A man should lay down letters as he does a cellar of wine.
Life is like playing a violin solo in public and learning the instrument as one goes on.
Life is not an exact science, it is an art.
Life is one long process of getting tired.
Life is the art of drawing sufficient conclusions from insufficient premises.
Man is the only animal that laughs and has a state legislature.
Men should not try to overstrain their goodness more than any other faculty, bodily or mental.
Morality is the custom of one's country and the current feeling of one's peers. Cannibalism is moral in a cannibal country.
Most people have never learned that one of the main aims in life is to enjoy it.
My main wish is to get my books into other people's rooms, and to keep other people's books out of mine.
Neither irony or sarcasm is argument.
Nobody shoots at Santa Claus.
Oaths are but words, and words are but wind.
One of the first businesses of a sensible man is to know when he is beaten, and to leave off fighting at once.
Opinions have vested interests just as men have.
Parents are the last people on earth who ought to have children.People are always good company when they are doing what they really enjoy.
People care more about being thought to have taste than about being thought good, clever or amiable.
Self-preservation is the first law of nature.Silence and tact may or may not be the same thing.
The advantage of doing one's praising for oneself is that one can lay it on so thick and exactly in the right places.
The Ancient Mariner would not have taken so well if it had been called The Old Sailor.
The best liar is he who makes the smallest amount of lying go the longest way.
The function of vice is to keep virtue within reasonable bounds.
The great pleasure of a dog is that you may make a fool of yourself
with him and not only will he not scold you, but he will make a fool of himself too.
The history of the world is the record of the weakness, frailty and death of public opinion.
The man who lets himself be bored is even more contemptible than the bore.
The most important service rendered by the press and the magazines is that of educating people to approach printed matter with distrust.
The oldest books are only just out to those who have not read them.
The sinews of art and literature, like those of war, are money.
The truest characters of ignorance are vanity and pride and arrogance.
The worst thing that can happen to a man is to lose his money, the
next worst his health, the next worst his reputation.
There are more fools than knaves in the world, else the knaves would not have enough to live upon.
They say the test of literary power is whether a man can write an inscription. I say, "Can he name a kitten?"
Vaccination is the medical sacrament corresponding to baptism. Whether it is or is not more efficacious I do not know.
When you've told someone that you've left them a legacy the only decent thing to do is to die at once.
Victorian novelist Samuel Butler was born in 1835 and died in 1902, almost perfectly matching in his life the years of Queen Victoria’s reign (1837-1901). His ancestors were clerics, and he was trained for the clergy. Becoming disillusioned during his training while serving in a poverty-stricken part of London, he emigrated to New Zealand and became a sheep farmer.
After returning to England, he wrote the utopian novel Erewhon in which foresaw thinking machines and on which his literary reputation principally rests. (The title is an anagram of the word "nowhere.") His semi-autobiographical novel The Way of All Flesh did not appear until after his death and was heavily edited. The original version of the manuscript was not published until 1965.
Early in his life, Samuel Butler began to carry a notebook in which he wrote anything he wanted to remember. It might be something he heard someone say. More likely, it was something he said himself. On his death in 1902, he left five bound volumes of about 225 pages each, with the contents dated and indexed, and enough separate sheets to make a sixth colume of the same size.
If you have not yet discovered the wit and wisdom of Samuel Butler contained in his notebooks, here are a few examples to whet your appetite:
A drunkard would not give money to sober people. He said they would only eat it, and buy clothes and send their children to school with it.
A hen is only an egg's way of making another egg.
A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, but a little want of knowledge is also a dangerous thing.
A man should be just cultured enough to be able to look with suspicion upon culture at first-, not second-hand.
A sense of humor keen enough to show a man his own absurdities will keep him from the commission of all sins, or nearly all, save those worth committing.
A virtue to be serviceable must, like gold, be alloyed with some commoner, but more durable alloy.
Academic and aristocratic people live in such an uncommon atmosphere that common sense can rarely reach them.
All animals, except man, know that the principal business of life is to enjoy it.
All philosophies, if you ride them home, are nonsense, but some are greater nonsense than others.
All progress is based upon a universal innate desire on the part of every organism to live beyond its income.
All truth is not to be told at all times.
Any fool can tell the truth, but it requires a man of some sense to know how to lie well.
Be virtuous and you will be vicious.
Death is only a larger kind of going abroad.
Do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Let the day's own trouble be sufficient for the day.
Evil is like water, it abounds, is cheap, soon fouls, but runs itself clear of taint.
Fear is static that prevents me from hearing myself.
Friendship is like money, easier made than kept.
From a worldly point of view, there is no mistake so great as that of being always right.
God cannot alter the past, though historians can.
He that complies against his will is of his own opinion still.
Human life is as evanescent as the morning dew or a flash of lightning.
I do not mind lying, but I hate inaccuracy.
I never knew a writer yet who took the smallest pains with his style and was at the same time readable.
I really do not see much use in exalting the humble and meek; they do not remain humble and meek long when they are exalted.
If the headache would only precede the intoxication, alcoholism would be a virtue.
If we attend continually and promptly to the little that we can do, we shall erelong be surprised to find how little remains that we cannot do.
In law, nothing is certain but the expense.
Is life worth living? This is a question for an embryo not for a man.
It has been said that the love of money is the root of all evil. The want
of money is so quite as truly.
It is better to have loved and lost than never to have lost at all.
It is not he who gains the exact point in dispute who scores most in controversy--but he who has shown the better temper.
It is seldom very hard to do one's duty when one knows what it is, but it is often exceedingly difficult to find this out.
It is tact that is golden, not silence.
It is the function of vice to keep virtue within reasonable bounds.
Let us be grateful to the mirror for revealing to us our appearance only.
Letters are like wine; if they are sound they ripen with keeping. A man should lay down letters as he does a cellar of wine.
Life is like playing a violin solo in public and learning the instrument as one goes on.
Life is not an exact science, it is an art.
Life is one long process of getting tired.
Life is the art of drawing sufficient conclusions from insufficient premises.
Man is the only animal that laughs and has a state legislature.
Men should not try to overstrain their goodness more than any other faculty, bodily or mental.
Morality is the custom of one's country and the current feeling of one's peers. Cannibalism is moral in a cannibal country.
Most people have never learned that one of the main aims in life is to enjoy it.
My main wish is to get my books into other people's rooms, and to keep other people's books out of mine.
Neither irony or sarcasm is argument.
Nobody shoots at Santa Claus.
Oaths are but words, and words are but wind.
One of the first businesses of a sensible man is to know when he is beaten, and to leave off fighting at once.
Opinions have vested interests just as men have.
Parents are the last people on earth who ought to have children.People are always good company when they are doing what they really enjoy.
People care more about being thought to have taste than about being thought good, clever or amiable.
Self-preservation is the first law of nature.Silence and tact may or may not be the same thing.
The advantage of doing one's praising for oneself is that one can lay it on so thick and exactly in the right places.
The Ancient Mariner would not have taken so well if it had been called The Old Sailor.
The best liar is he who makes the smallest amount of lying go the longest way.
The function of vice is to keep virtue within reasonable bounds.
The great pleasure of a dog is that you may make a fool of yourself
with him and not only will he not scold you, but he will make a fool of himself too.
The history of the world is the record of the weakness, frailty and death of public opinion.
The man who lets himself be bored is even more contemptible than the bore.
The most important service rendered by the press and the magazines is that of educating people to approach printed matter with distrust.
The oldest books are only just out to those who have not read them.
The sinews of art and literature, like those of war, are money.
The truest characters of ignorance are vanity and pride and arrogance.
The worst thing that can happen to a man is to lose his money, the
next worst his health, the next worst his reputation.
There are more fools than knaves in the world, else the knaves would not have enough to live upon.
They say the test of literary power is whether a man can write an inscription. I say, "Can he name a kitten?"
Vaccination is the medical sacrament corresponding to baptism. Whether it is or is not more efficacious I do not know.
When you've told someone that you've left them a legacy the only decent thing to do is to die at once.
Labels: Humor, Quotable Quotes
Thursday, November 05, 2009
The First Unknown Soldier: Symbol of Another Great Generation
HISTORY
This year the holiday known as Veterans Day, formerly called Armistice Day, will be observed on Wednesday, November 11, 2009. Although the date is widely observed, many are unfamiliar with its origins. It commemorates the cessation of hostilities on the Western Front on November 11, 1918. Marking the end of World War One, the armistice between the Allies and Germany was signed in a railway car at Rethondes, France, and took effect at the "eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month."
Declared a national holiday in many allied nations to remember those members of the armed forces who were killed during war, an exception is Italy, where the end of the war is commemorated on November 4 as the Armistice of Villa Giusti. After World War Two, the name of the holiday was changed to Veterans Day in the United States and to Remembrance Day in countries of the British Commonwealth of Nations. Armistice Day (Jour de l'Armistice) remains an official holiday in France. It is also an official holiday in Belgium, where it is also known as the Day of Peace. In many parts of the world people observe a two-minute moment of silence at 11:00 a.m. as a sign of respect for the approximately 20 milliom who died in the war.
Prologue
Praise has been heaped deservedly on the generation of Americans that endured the trials and hardships of the Second World War. To single it out and call it "The Greatest Generation," however, does a disservice to other great generations and their sacrifices. The contributions of this newest "greatest generation," of which this writer is a member, have been closely examined in countless books and articles. But we should not overlook how much was sacrificed when an earlier "great generation" fought and died in the blood bath of the First World War. The account that follows is a tribute to the now-dwindling great generation I was brought up to honor and to remember.
The American Expeditionary Force that sailed for Europe and a war to end all war suffered grievous losses in the short space of time the United States participated--19 months: 53,513 battle deaths, 63,195 other deaths and 204,002 wounded. Even so, it did not take very long for the old men who create the wars that young men must fight to stir up another one. In fact, the peace bought by the generation that fought and died in the First World War lasted only from 1918 to 1939--a mere twenty-one years. Twenty years is about what demographers regard as the interval between generations, and another generation had come along ready for the slaughter.
On April 6, 1917, when the U.S. declared war against Germany, its regular army was on a par with that of Chile, Denmark and the Netherlands. All four countries shared 17th place among nations in tables of army size. By the standards of the armies fighting in Europe, the U.S. Army was unimpressive both in size and training. It was led by elderly officers who had achieved fame as Indian fighters and were close to retirement. Few of the 5,000 officers and 120,000 enlisted men had ever fired a shot in anger. The country also had a National Guard consisting of some 80,000 ill-trained and poorly equipped officers and enlisted men, many of whom regarded it as a social organization.
By the time of the Armistice, the United States had mobilized 58 divisions, of which 43 had been shipped overseas. Twelve were not active as combat units but were used to provide replacements in France. American divisions had some 27,000 combat troops, and were twice the nominal size of British, French or German divisions--mainly because of a lack of trained junior officers.
On April 6, 1917, when the U.S. declared war against Germany, its regular army was on a par with that of Chile, Denmark and the Netherlands. All four countries shared 17th place among nations in tables of army size. By the standards of the armies fighting in Europe, the U.S. Army was unimpressive both in size and training. It was led by elderly officers who had achieved fame as Indian fighters and were close to retirement. Few of the 5,000 officers and 120,000 enlisted men had ever fired a shot in anger. The country also had a National Guard consisting of some 80,000 ill-trained and poorly equipped officers and enlisted men, many of whom regarded it as a social organization.
By the time of the Armistice, the United States had mobilized 58 divisions, of which 43 had been shipped overseas. Twelve were not active as combat units but were used to provide replacements in France. American divisions had some 27,000 combat troops, and were twice the nominal size of British, French or German divisions--mainly because of a lack of trained junior officers.
Two out of every three American soldiers who reached France took part in action of some kind. In addition to the threat of being smashed and ripped apart by shrapnel from an incoming shell or cut down by merciless machine-gun fire, the average "doughboy" was perpetually at the mercy of the elements, the mud and the degradation of living in rat-infested tunnels and trenches into which poison gas could seep; his diet was unhealthy and his body was unwashed--grime and filth were everywhere, along with the stench of rotting dead bodies and the ubiquitous "cootie," or body louse, that infested his clothing.
Nevertheless, high-spirited American troops provided the fresh enthusiasm and surge of power needed by the battle-weary French and British soldiers to break the German Hindenburg Line. The process of turning America's paltry regular army into the strongest army on the European continent had been remarkable. Through careful planning, sheer determination and hard work, its small combat force grew tremendously. By the Armistice, a total of 1,962,767 American troops were in France, including 1,253,330 combatants. In a brief time, the United States had gone from a nation whose tiny army was not ready for battle to a world power.
In the 200 days between April 25, 1918--when the 1st Division entered the front line in Picardy--until the Armistice on November 11th, American forces participated in 13 battles as part of six major campaigns, and 136,516 Americans died. This number includes 4,452 who were counted as missing in action and whose remains were never found or could be identified. One of that number rests beneath a white marble tomb in Arlington National Cemetery in Virginia.
The conclusion of the First World War gave birth to the holiday originally known as Armistice Day, now called Veterans Day. The celebration of that holiday had its origin in ceremonies that took place in Washington on November 11, 1921.
Choosing the First Unknown Soldier
The idea of honoring the unknown dead of the First World War originated in Europe. In 1921, America had still not formally honored its war dead. The year before, the British had already interred an unknown "Tommy" in Westminster Abbey to represent the hundreds of thousands that had perished in that conflict. Similarly, the French had honored an unknown "poilu" at the Arc de Triomphe.
When Brig. Gen. William D. Connor, commanding general of American forces in Europe, first learned of the French plans, he proposed a similar project to the U.S. Army's chief of staff, Gen. Peyton C. March. General March was not enthusiastic about the proposal, thinking it premature. Although the French and British had a great many unknown dead, he felt that the American Army's Graves Registration Service would eventually identify all American unknowns. He had been told by the Quartermaster General that only 1,271 American dead were still unidentified, and these were still being studied. General March's concern was that haste could result in the selection of a body that might later be identified.
On December 21, 1920, Congressman Hamilton Fish, Jr., of Putnam County, New York, had introduced a resolution in Congress calling for the return of the body of an unknown American soldier from France for burial with appropriate ceremonies in a tomb to be constructed at the Memorial Amphitheater at Arlington National Cemetery. The measure was approved on March 4, 1921. Congressman Fish wanted ceremonies to be held on Memorial Day of 1921, but Secretary of War Newton D. Baker thought the date too early. The Congressman tried again through the new Secretary of War, John W. Weeks, who replaced Baker on March 4, 1921, when President Warren G. Harding took office.
Four coffins were exhumed, one from each of four American military cemeteries, Aisne-Marne, Meuse-Argonne, Somme and St. Mihiel, and were taken by truck to the city hall at Chalons-sur-Marne. A large group awaited them, including officers of the French Army, officials of Chalons-sur-Marne, the U.S. Army's Quartermaster General, and the chief of the Graves Registration Services in Europe. Major Robert P. Harbold was the officer in charge of the ceremony. Chalons-sur-Marne officials had prepared the city hall for the ceremony. The outside of the building had been draped with French and American flags. Inside, the halls and corridors were ornamented with potted palms and more flags. A catafalque--the stand on which a casket is placed--had been set up in the main hall. Another room was decorated to hold the caskets of the four unknown soldiers, and a third room was prepared in which the chosen Unknown Soldier would be transferred to a bronze casket shipped from the United States.
French troops carried the four shipping cases from the trucks to the city hall. The four caskets were then removed, set on top of the shipping cases and draped with American flags. Six American soldiers arrived from American headquarters in Coblenz, Germany. Early on the morning of October 24, Major Harbold, aided by French and American soldiers, rearranged the caskets so each rested on a shipping case other than the one in which it had arrived. Now there was little chance that anyone would know the cemetery from which the unidentified remains came.
Originally, a commissioned officer was to make the selection. The plan was changed when the Americans learned that the French had selected an enlisted man to choose their Unknown Soldier. Major Harbold selected Sergeant Younger, one of the men who had arrived from Coblenz, to perform that duty. Sgt. Younger had enlisted in the U.S. Army in February of 1917, two months before America entered the war. He had taken part in several engagements, including Chateau Thierry, the Somme, St. Mihiel and the Meuse-Argonne offensive, and had received the Distinguished Service Cross and the Purple Heart. At the end of the war, he reenlisted. After Sergeant Younger was mustered out of the Army in 1922, he often spoke before veterans groups about what happened in Chalons-sur-Marne. Returning to the Chicago area, he lived there until he died of a heart attack in 1942.
This is Sgt. Younger's story: "At first we (the six soldiers) had the idea that we were to be just pall bearers," Sgt. Younger said. "But when we lined up in the little makeshift chapel, Major Harbold, the officer in charge of graves registration, told us, 'One of you men is to be given the honor of selecting the body of the Unknown Soldier.' He had a large bouquet of pink and white roses in his arms. He finally handed the roses to me." The bouquet had been presented by a Frenchman who had lost two sons in the war. Younger was left alone in the quiet of the chapel with the four identical and unmarked coffins that fateful day, the 24th of October. "The one I placed the roses on was the one brought home and placed in the national shrine. I walked around the coffins three times, then suddenly I stopped. What caused me to stop, I don't know. It was as if something had pulled me. I placed the roses on the coffin in front of me." He concluded, "I can still remember the awed feeling I had, standing there alone." The caskets of the three unchosen unknowns were placed in shipping cases and taken by truck to the Meuse-Argonne American Military Cemetery for immediate reburial.
Coming home
The body Sgt. Younger had chosen as the Unknown Soldier lay in state for several hours, watched over by the small contingent of American and French soldiers. After brief tributes by the mayor of Chalons-sur-Marne and other officials, the casket was placed on a flag-draped gun carriage and escorted by French and American troops along the Rue de Marne to the railroad station. Unmounted French cavalry lined the route to the station. Still bearing the spray of roses, it was lifted aboard a special train for the journey to the port of Le Havre, by way of Paris. The train left Chalons-sur-Marne at 4:10 p.m. and arrived in Paris about three hours later. After ceremonies in Paris the next morning, the special train left Paris in midmorning and arrived at Le Havre about 1:00 p.m.
A procession took the body from the station to the Quai d'Escale, where the American cruiser Olympia was waiting. Launched in 1895, the Olympia, Admiral Dewey's flagship at the Battle of Manila Bay in the Spanish-American War, was capable of doing only 20 knots. Reverently, the casket was placed on the flower-bedecked stern of the Olympia for the voyage back to America. Escorted by the American destroyer Reuben James, which would later become the first American warship to be sunk in the Second World War, and eight French naval vessels, the Olympia put to sea. She received a 17-gun salute as she cleared the harbor and another as the French ships dropped astern outside French waters.
After a voyage of 15 days, on a rainy November 9th, the Olympia steamed up the Potomac and reached the Washington Navy Yard at four p.m. As the casket was carried down the gangplank, the ship's band played Chopin's "Funeral March." From the Navy Yard, the casket was placed on a horse-drawn caisson and escorted to the Capitol, with the band of the 3rd Cavalry playing "Onward Christian Soldiers." and placed in the rotunda on the catafalque that had held the remains of assassinated Presidents Lincoln, Garfield and McKinley. The body lay in state under a guard of honor composed of selected enlisted men of the Army, Navy and Marine Corps. Throughout the next day, November 10th, thousands passed before the casket to honor the Unknown Soldier. For them, many of whom had lost someone in the war, he symbolized the thousands of unidentified dead and the missing in action in the war that had ended three years before.
To Arlington Cemetery
At 8:30 on the morning of November 11th, the casket was taken from the Capitol and placed on a gun carriage for the journey through the streets of Washington to the Memorial Amphitheater in Arlington National Cemetery. Following the caisson bearing the flag-draped coffin were the President, Warren G. Harding, the Vice-President, Calvin Coolidge, William Howard Taft, the ex-President and newly appointed Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, and the associate justices, members of the diplomatic corps, Medal of Honor wearers, members of Congress, and various generals and admirals.
A field artillery battery near the Washington Monument began firing "minute guns" at one-minute intervals. Their salvos reverberated throughout Washington until the conclusion of the funeral ceremony at Arlington. At the White House, the President, Vice President, Chief Justice and members of the Senate and House left the procession and traveled by automobile to Arlington National Cemetery. At the Amphitheater, the casket was again placed on the catafalque. The President and Mrs. Harding arrived at 11:55 a.m., and the ceremonies began. The Marine Band played the National Anthem. The audience sang "America," after which President Harding delivered an address paying tribute to the Unknown Soldier and pleading for an end to war.
Nevertheless, high-spirited American troops provided the fresh enthusiasm and surge of power needed by the battle-weary French and British soldiers to break the German Hindenburg Line. The process of turning America's paltry regular army into the strongest army on the European continent had been remarkable. Through careful planning, sheer determination and hard work, its small combat force grew tremendously. By the Armistice, a total of 1,962,767 American troops were in France, including 1,253,330 combatants. In a brief time, the United States had gone from a nation whose tiny army was not ready for battle to a world power.
In the 200 days between April 25, 1918--when the 1st Division entered the front line in Picardy--until the Armistice on November 11th, American forces participated in 13 battles as part of six major campaigns, and 136,516 Americans died. This number includes 4,452 who were counted as missing in action and whose remains were never found or could be identified. One of that number rests beneath a white marble tomb in Arlington National Cemetery in Virginia.
The conclusion of the First World War gave birth to the holiday originally known as Armistice Day, now called Veterans Day. The celebration of that holiday had its origin in ceremonies that took place in Washington on November 11, 1921.
Choosing the First Unknown Soldier
The idea of honoring the unknown dead of the First World War originated in Europe. In 1921, America had still not formally honored its war dead. The year before, the British had already interred an unknown "Tommy" in Westminster Abbey to represent the hundreds of thousands that had perished in that conflict. Similarly, the French had honored an unknown "poilu" at the Arc de Triomphe.
When Brig. Gen. William D. Connor, commanding general of American forces in Europe, first learned of the French plans, he proposed a similar project to the U.S. Army's chief of staff, Gen. Peyton C. March. General March was not enthusiastic about the proposal, thinking it premature. Although the French and British had a great many unknown dead, he felt that the American Army's Graves Registration Service would eventually identify all American unknowns. He had been told by the Quartermaster General that only 1,271 American dead were still unidentified, and these were still being studied. General March's concern was that haste could result in the selection of a body that might later be identified.
On December 21, 1920, Congressman Hamilton Fish, Jr., of Putnam County, New York, had introduced a resolution in Congress calling for the return of the body of an unknown American soldier from France for burial with appropriate ceremonies in a tomb to be constructed at the Memorial Amphitheater at Arlington National Cemetery. The measure was approved on March 4, 1921. Congressman Fish wanted ceremonies to be held on Memorial Day of 1921, but Secretary of War Newton D. Baker thought the date too early. The Congressman tried again through the new Secretary of War, John W. Weeks, who replaced Baker on March 4, 1921, when President Warren G. Harding took office.
Four coffins were exhumed, one from each of four American military cemeteries, Aisne-Marne, Meuse-Argonne, Somme and St. Mihiel, and were taken by truck to the city hall at Chalons-sur-Marne. A large group awaited them, including officers of the French Army, officials of Chalons-sur-Marne, the U.S. Army's Quartermaster General, and the chief of the Graves Registration Services in Europe. Major Robert P. Harbold was the officer in charge of the ceremony. Chalons-sur-Marne officials had prepared the city hall for the ceremony. The outside of the building had been draped with French and American flags. Inside, the halls and corridors were ornamented with potted palms and more flags. A catafalque--the stand on which a casket is placed--had been set up in the main hall. Another room was decorated to hold the caskets of the four unknown soldiers, and a third room was prepared in which the chosen Unknown Soldier would be transferred to a bronze casket shipped from the United States.
French troops carried the four shipping cases from the trucks to the city hall. The four caskets were then removed, set on top of the shipping cases and draped with American flags. Six American soldiers arrived from American headquarters in Coblenz, Germany. Early on the morning of October 24, Major Harbold, aided by French and American soldiers, rearranged the caskets so each rested on a shipping case other than the one in which it had arrived. Now there was little chance that anyone would know the cemetery from which the unidentified remains came.
Originally, a commissioned officer was to make the selection. The plan was changed when the Americans learned that the French had selected an enlisted man to choose their Unknown Soldier. Major Harbold selected Sergeant Younger, one of the men who had arrived from Coblenz, to perform that duty. Sgt. Younger had enlisted in the U.S. Army in February of 1917, two months before America entered the war. He had taken part in several engagements, including Chateau Thierry, the Somme, St. Mihiel and the Meuse-Argonne offensive, and had received the Distinguished Service Cross and the Purple Heart. At the end of the war, he reenlisted. After Sergeant Younger was mustered out of the Army in 1922, he often spoke before veterans groups about what happened in Chalons-sur-Marne. Returning to the Chicago area, he lived there until he died of a heart attack in 1942.
This is Sgt. Younger's story: "At first we (the six soldiers) had the idea that we were to be just pall bearers," Sgt. Younger said. "But when we lined up in the little makeshift chapel, Major Harbold, the officer in charge of graves registration, told us, 'One of you men is to be given the honor of selecting the body of the Unknown Soldier.' He had a large bouquet of pink and white roses in his arms. He finally handed the roses to me." The bouquet had been presented by a Frenchman who had lost two sons in the war. Younger was left alone in the quiet of the chapel with the four identical and unmarked coffins that fateful day, the 24th of October. "The one I placed the roses on was the one brought home and placed in the national shrine. I walked around the coffins three times, then suddenly I stopped. What caused me to stop, I don't know. It was as if something had pulled me. I placed the roses on the coffin in front of me." He concluded, "I can still remember the awed feeling I had, standing there alone." The caskets of the three unchosen unknowns were placed in shipping cases and taken by truck to the Meuse-Argonne American Military Cemetery for immediate reburial.
Coming home
The body Sgt. Younger had chosen as the Unknown Soldier lay in state for several hours, watched over by the small contingent of American and French soldiers. After brief tributes by the mayor of Chalons-sur-Marne and other officials, the casket was placed on a flag-draped gun carriage and escorted by French and American troops along the Rue de Marne to the railroad station. Unmounted French cavalry lined the route to the station. Still bearing the spray of roses, it was lifted aboard a special train for the journey to the port of Le Havre, by way of Paris. The train left Chalons-sur-Marne at 4:10 p.m. and arrived in Paris about three hours later. After ceremonies in Paris the next morning, the special train left Paris in midmorning and arrived at Le Havre about 1:00 p.m.
A procession took the body from the station to the Quai d'Escale, where the American cruiser Olympia was waiting. Launched in 1895, the Olympia, Admiral Dewey's flagship at the Battle of Manila Bay in the Spanish-American War, was capable of doing only 20 knots. Reverently, the casket was placed on the flower-bedecked stern of the Olympia for the voyage back to America. Escorted by the American destroyer Reuben James, which would later become the first American warship to be sunk in the Second World War, and eight French naval vessels, the Olympia put to sea. She received a 17-gun salute as she cleared the harbor and another as the French ships dropped astern outside French waters.
After a voyage of 15 days, on a rainy November 9th, the Olympia steamed up the Potomac and reached the Washington Navy Yard at four p.m. As the casket was carried down the gangplank, the ship's band played Chopin's "Funeral March." From the Navy Yard, the casket was placed on a horse-drawn caisson and escorted to the Capitol, with the band of the 3rd Cavalry playing "Onward Christian Soldiers." and placed in the rotunda on the catafalque that had held the remains of assassinated Presidents Lincoln, Garfield and McKinley. The body lay in state under a guard of honor composed of selected enlisted men of the Army, Navy and Marine Corps. Throughout the next day, November 10th, thousands passed before the casket to honor the Unknown Soldier. For them, many of whom had lost someone in the war, he symbolized the thousands of unidentified dead and the missing in action in the war that had ended three years before.
To Arlington Cemetery
At 8:30 on the morning of November 11th, the casket was taken from the Capitol and placed on a gun carriage for the journey through the streets of Washington to the Memorial Amphitheater in Arlington National Cemetery. Following the caisson bearing the flag-draped coffin were the President, Warren G. Harding, the Vice-President, Calvin Coolidge, William Howard Taft, the ex-President and newly appointed Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, and the associate justices, members of the diplomatic corps, Medal of Honor wearers, members of Congress, and various generals and admirals.
A field artillery battery near the Washington Monument began firing "minute guns" at one-minute intervals. Their salvos reverberated throughout Washington until the conclusion of the funeral ceremony at Arlington. At the White House, the President, Vice President, Chief Justice and members of the Senate and House left the procession and traveled by automobile to Arlington National Cemetery. At the Amphitheater, the casket was again placed on the catafalque. The President and Mrs. Harding arrived at 11:55 a.m., and the ceremonies began. The Marine Band played the National Anthem. The audience sang "America," after which President Harding delivered an address paying tribute to the Unknown Soldier and pleading for an end to war.
The President then conferred upon the Unknown Soldier the Congressional Medal of Honor and the Distinguished Service Cross. Representatives of foreign governments in turn conferred upon the Unknown Soldier the highest military decorations of their nations. These included Belgium, Britain, France, Italy, Poland, Czechoslovakia and Romania. Congressman Fish, who had introduced the legislation to memorialize the unknown American dead, laid a wreath at the tomb. Among others who paid tribute was Chief Plenty Coups, representing Native Americans, who placed his war bonnet and coup stick at the tomb.
As the casket was lowered into the crypt, the bottom of which had been covered with a layer of French soil, the saluting battery of guns fired three salvos. A bugler then sounded taps, and the battery fired 21 guns to salute the Unknown Soldier of the First World War.
America's Belated Recognition of Armistice Day
The awful carnage of World War I ended with an armistice at eleven o'clock on the morning on November 11, 1918. Yet Congress did not get around to recognizing that event as Armistice Day until June 4, 1926, when it passed a resolution asking the President to issue a formal proclamation calling upon people to display the flag and observe November 11th with appropriate ceremonies.
By then 27 states were already observing the date as a legal holiday. Congress was also slow in making it a federal legal holiday. That did not happen until May 13, 1938. The holiday was intended to honor veterans of the First World War, but it was not until June 4, 1954--after the Second World War and the Korean War--that Congress amended the 1938 legislation, substituting the words Veterans Day for Armistice Day.
In 1968, a Uniform Holiday bill was signed on June 28, giving federal employees a three-day weekend by celebrating four national holidays on Mondays: Washington's Birthday, Memorial Day, Veterans Day and Columbus Day. The idea was that extended weekends would encourage travel, and recreational activities. The hope also was that it would stimulate greater industrial and commercial activity. It achieved none of these goals, and only diverted attention from the significance of the holiday. Many states refused to accept this unwelcome change and continued to celebrate the four holidays on their original dates.
The first Veterans Day under the new law was observed on October 25, 1971, with much confusion and dissatisfaction. Many patriotic and veterans organizations were unhappy with the change. However, it would take five years before their discontent had an effect. On September 20, 1975, President Gerald R. Ford signed a new law returning Veterans Day to November 11th--to become effective the following year. Veterans Day has been celebrated on November 11th ever since.
Later History of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier
During the tomb's early years after 1921, only a civilian watchman protected the site. In 1926, a formal military guard was established--but only during daylight hours when the cemetery was open to the public. The original intention was for the simple white marble sarcophagus should be the base for an appropriate monument. It was not until July 3, 1926, that Congress authorized the completion of the tomb.
A competition was held among architects. Seventy-four designs were submitted anonymously, with the names of each architect in a sealed envelope. Five were chosen as finalists, from which group one was selected. The successful design turned out to be that of architect Lorimer Rich. It called for a tomb measuring 11 feet in height, 8 feet in width and almost 14 feet in length.
The tomb. of glaring white marble, weighs 79 tons. It is sometimes describes as being made of Vermont marble. The stone was actually quarried in Yule, Colorado. The error arises because the quarry was owned by the Vermont Marble Company. The severity of the design was relieved by Doric pilasters in low relief at the corners and carved motifs along the sides. Sculptor Thomas Hudson Jones carved the designs and figures on the tomb, completing his work on December 31, 1931. On the front are three figures representing Peace, Valor and Victory. Six inverted mourning wreaths on the sides mark the six major campaigns of the war in which American troops participated. The simple sentiment, "HERE RESTS IN HONORED GLORY AN AMERICAN SOLDIER KNOWN BUT TO GOD" also appears. (This replicates the sentiment carved on the gravestones of all unknown dead in American military cemeteries in Europe.) The first 24-hour military guard began in 1937 and continues to this day. The "spit-and-polish" 3rd U.S. Infantry (The Old Guard) assumed responsibility for guarding the tomb in 1948.
After the Second World War, planning began for the interment of a second Unknown. This tomb, an identical copy of the original was to be located on the mall area of the cemetery in 1951. Unfortunately, the Korean War interfered with these plans and selection of an unknown serviceman from World War II was deferred. Following the cease fire in Korea in 1953, Congress authorized the honoring of two unknown dead--one from World War II and one from the Korean War. President Dwight D. Eisenhower signed the enabling legislation on August 3, 1956.
The remains of 8,526 World War II dead and 848 Korean War dead had been unidentifiable and buried as unknowns. Following the precedent established after the First World War, one body was selected from 13 unidentified bodies exhumed from military cemeteries in the European Theater of World War II and one body from six bodies from cemeteries in the Pacific Theater. From these, the bodies of two and then one unknown World War II serviceman were selected. Almost simultaneously, an unknown from the Korean War was selected from among four exhumed from the unidentified dead of that war interred in military cemeteries. Ceremonies were held on May 30, 1958, and the two unknowns were interred in crypts near the original 1921 interment.
After the end of the Vietnam War in 1973, Congress authorized the interment of an unknown serviceman from that conflict. A new crypt was ordered to be constructed between the graves of the World War II and Korean War Unknowns. Plans for a burial were suspended, however, because sophisticated identification techniques had resulted in the identification of almost all remains returned from Vietnam. It was not until 1984 that one body was certified as unidentifiable. These remains arrived in Washington on May 25 and lay in state in the Capitol for three days. On May 28, 1984, the remains were borne by horse-drawn caisson to Arlington National Cemetery. President Ronald Reagan presented the Medal of Honor to the unknown Vietnam War serviceman.
Paradoxically, advances in DNA testing led to the disinterment of the Vietnam War Unknown four years later in a solemn ceremony May 14, 1988. Forensic tests confirmed the remains to be those of Air Force 1st Lieutenant Michael Joseph Blassie, an Air Force Academy graduate, shot down near An Loc, Vietnam, in 1972. At the request of his family, Lt. Blassie's remains were transferred to the Jefferson Barracks National Cemetery in Missouri. It was decided that the crypt of the Vietnam Unknown would remain empty as a reminder of the many servicemen who were missing in action or whose bodies were never recovered.
The cover on the Vietnam crypt was rededicated September 17, 1999. The first female sentinel appeared at the tomb on March 25, 1996.
Epilogue
Since the end of the Second World War, we have endured a number of undeclared wars with unclear aims. Most notable among these is the Vietnam War. A black granite wall bears in its smooth surface the names of 58,195 who sacrificed their lives. It includes the names of 2,504 missing in action whose bodies have never been recovered.
We again find ourselves engaged in another war, this time against a shadowy, tenacious enemy. Other than "ridding the world of terrorism," our aims are unclear, This generation has already suffered thousands of innocents killed or missing in New York and Washington; 40,000 more service members have been killed and wounded in Iraq and Afghanistan. Who is there among us who will deny that this generation has already shown itself to be another great generation? Now, and in our continuing time of trial, we can all resolve that these sacrifices shall not have been in vain, recalling the fourth verse of "For the Fallen," a poem by British poet Lawrence Binyon. When the war the British still denominate as "the Great War" began in 1914, Binyon was working in the British Museum. He later served as a Red Cross orderly on the Western Front. His words are timeless.
They shall not grow old,
As we who are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them,
Nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun
And in the morning
We will remember them.
As we who are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them,
Nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun
And in the morning
We will remember them.
Appendix: The Human Cost of America's Participation in World War One
The following table shows the numbers of dead buried in the eight World War One American Military Cemeteries in Europe. Each cemetery has a chapel on whose walls are inscribed the names of those who were missing in action or whose remains could not be identified. As the numbers of living World War One veterans and their next-of-kin dwindle, these cemeteries attract fewer visitors each year. The graves, marked by white marble crosses and Stars of David, are carefully tended.
Among the 136,516 Americans who died in the 19 months that America participated in the First World War, 4,452 were declared missing in action; their remans could not be identified or were never found. The next-of-kin of 101,143 dead servicemen chose to have their remains returned to the United States for burial. The next-of-kin of 30,921 war dead elected to have their remains buried in Europe.
A Directory of First World War American Cemeteries in Europe
The following information is from the American Battle Monuments Commission:
FRANCE
Meuse-Argonne American Cemetery
Romagne-sous-Montfaucon (Meuse), about 160 miles from Paris
14,246 graves; 954 MIA
Oise-Aisne American Cemetery
Fere-en-Tardenois (Aisne), about 60 miles from Paris
6,012 graves; 241 MIA
St. Mihiel American Cemetery
Thiaucourt (Meurthe-et-Moselle), about 20 miles from Metz
4,153 graves; 284 MIA
Aisne-Marne American Cemetery
Belleau (Aisne), about 60 miles from Paris
2,289 graves, 1,060 MIA
Somme American Cemetery
Bony (Aisne), about 100 miles from Paris
1,844 graves; 333 MIA
Suresnes American Cemetery
Suresnes (Seine), 5 miles west of Paris
1,541 graves, 974 MIA, or lost or buried at sea
BELGIUM
Flanders Field American Cemetery
Waregem, Belgium, 46 miles west of Brussels
368 graves; 43 MIA
ENGLAND
Brookwood American Cemetery
Brookwood, England, about 28 miles from London
468 graves; 563 MIA, or lost or buried at sea
Labels: Armistice Day, First World War, History, Holidays, Unknown Soldier, Veterans Day
