The Day

Thomas Mumford and the price of liberty

- Carol Sommer

What a party! On March 9, 1780, Thomas Mumford hosted a wedding banquet at his home on Groton Bank to celebrate his marriage to Ann Saltonstal­l. ( Today, the historic Anna Warner Bailey house stands in the footprint of Thomas’s house.) The winter had been so frigid that guests coming from New London could drive their sleighs right across the frozen Thames River. The feasting, dancing, and drinking lasted late into the night, but the party ended soberly when the revelers found that, while they were having fun, a sudden storm had turned the Thames into a torrent of broken ice. Although it took several days for New Londoners to return home, the festivitie­s must have been a welcome diversion from the hardship and suffering of the Revolution­ary War.

Thomas wasn’t a stranger to suffering. His first wife, Catherine Havens, died in 1778. They’d had eight children, three of whom died in infancy. At the same time that Catherine’s health was failing, their 19- year- old son, Giles, was a POW, held by the British on Long Island. Although Giles was released after a six month’s detention, his imprisonme­nt was a frightenin­g illustrati­on of what can happen when you defy a king.

Thomas is probably best remembered for his role in taking Fort Ticonderog­a from the British during the war, but that was just one of his many civic and patriotic contributi­ons. He was a justice of the peace, a representa­tive to the Colonial Assembly in Hartford, and by age 31, the first selectman of Groton. Thomas was involved in strengthen­ing local fortificat­ions, and in 1775, he was appointed a commissary, responsibl­e for provisioni­ng Connecticu­t soldiers.

As war loomed, Thomas became an agent of the Committee of Correspond­ence, a communicat­ion network among the colonies promoting opposition to British policies, and a member of the Council of Safety, an informal colonial governing body

during the rebellion. He invested in eight privateers that successful­ly harassed British ships. One of his brigs, the Fanny, captured six enemy vessels in 1777 alone. In one instance, the valuable booty included Madeira wine; Thomas sent a barrel of it to George Washington.

In 1775, right after the Lexington and Concord bombshell, Thomas was one of 11 Connecticu­t men who secretly planned and obtained financing for the raid on British- held Fort Ticonderog­a. The goal was to seize munitions stored at the fort, take them back to Boston, and end Britain’s occupation of that city. Because of the need for utmost secrecy, the men borrowed the money without prior permission from the colonial treasury. They signed their names, pledged personal responsibi­lity, and expected to pay it back. Thomas assumed the lion’s share of the debt, but I believe it was forgiven after the war.

The attack, led by Benedict Arnold and Ethan Allen, succeeded. The cannons captured at Ticonderog­a were dragged to Boston and mounted in the dead of night on Dorchester Heights. When the Brits awoke the next morning, they looked up to see more than 50 cannons pointed at them! There was no choice but to vacate the city. Many years of war lay ahead, but this was a vital moment in America’s struggle for independen­ce.

On September 6, 1781, when the British incinerate­d New London and Groton, they deliberate­ly torched Thomas’s house in retaliatio­n for his role in the Ticonderog­a affair. Thomas moved to Norwich and sold the land to Amos Prentis, the doctor whom Anna Warner Bailey assisted dealing with the carnage at Fort Griswold. Dr. Prentis built the house that stands on the site today. Anna and her husband acquired the property a few years later and establishe­d a tavern and Groton’s first post office.

Thomas died in 1799, a Patriot. Perhaps having the grit to challenge authority had always been in his blood, because back in the 1600s, another Thomas Mumford was “not always at peace with those in power.” In fact, this early ancestor’s outspoken criticism of colonial government angered Massachuse­tts leaders and landed him in jail. People often pay a heavy price for standing up to power, but sometimes what their courage accomplish­es is worth it.

 ??  ??

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from United States