“We have determined to hold this place, and, by heavens, we can.” This was the closing sentence of a military despatch written on the night of July 29, 1813. It was penned in the commandant’s room of the rude stockade known as Fort Stephenson, on the Sandusky River.

The writer was Maj. George Croghan, of the Seventeenth United States Infantry, a boy who had just attained his twenty-first year. It was addressed to Gen. William Henry Harrison, in command of the American forces in the Northwest. The reply of General Harrison to this remarkable despatch was an order removing Major Croghan from command and ordering him to report to headquarters under virtual arrest for disobedience.

Young Croghan responded promptly, traversing a dangerous country. Face to face with his general he explained that it was not braggadocio that inspired the language of his message. When it was written it was expected that it would fall into the hands of the enemy, then boastfully advancing to the attack. With the warlike eloquence that came as heritage from his Irish ancestors, Major Croghan showed his general that it was too late to retreat from the fort, and that it was a necessary military maneuver to hold it pending the execution of other movements. His tongue won for him what every great soul desires—opportunity. Restored to command, he returned to the fort and won a victory that will forever live in the annals of the early republic.

Not long ago the body of Major Croghan was interred at the base of the monument erected to the memory of the soldiers of Sandusky County. This imposing shaft marks the site of the old fort where the dead hero won his laurels and where the blow was struck that opened the way to ultimate victory over the British and Indian power in the northwestern country. Over his grave will stand as a silent witness the single cannon used in defense of the fort, an ancient six-pounder, which wears the affectionate feminine sobriquet of “Old Betsy.” It was a single belch from the iron jaws of this that decided the fate of the battle, and though inanimate, still it deserved a share of the glory that surrounded the interment of the gallant Croghan.

Since that eventful day in August many great events have occurred to fill the pages of history. General Harrison became greater and filled the president’s chair. Around the base of the old fort a city has sprung up named after Gen. John C. Fremont, the Pathfinder. In Croghan’s day the little settlement was known as Lower Sandusky, to distinguish it from the city in Wyandot County known as Upper Sandusky. So powerful a pleader as Rutherford B. Hayes, then a practising attorney at the Sandusky County bar, and afterward president of the United States, pleaded that the old name be permitted to stand.

There was pomp and ceremony to mark the final sepulture of the old commander’s dust in the ground that he hallowed with his victory, but no greater tribute could be paid to his soldier memory than to tell again the story of the battle. He came of fighting stock, this young American soldier. The blood of “Kelly, Burke and Shea” flowed in his veins and he smelled the battle from afar off. His father was William Croghan, an Irishman, born in Dublin in 1752, but who was well settled in this country when the War of the Revolution broke out. He fought at Monmouth, Brandywine and Germantown, and froze with the rest of the immortal band at Valley Forge.

Joining in the drift from the Virginias across the mountains, he reached the settlement at the falls of the Ohio, where Louisville now stands. In 1791 he married Lucy Clark, sister of George Rogers Clark, the mighty figure of the Vincennes campaign, who saved an empire to the American republic. Another brother, William, was the Clark who, with Captain Lewis, made the historic exploration tour across the then unknown continent. Of such a union was born the man whom a state and a nation afterward honored for bravery. The exact place of his birth was at Locust Grove, Ky., a few miles below Louisville. When but twenty years of age he gained distinction at the battle of Tippecanoe, and was promoted to a captaincy in March, 1812, being detailed as aide-de-camp to General Harrison, with the rank of major. This was his condition when the events that were to make him famous began to unfold themselves.

The Indians, under Tecumseh, and the British, under General Proctor, had raised the siege of Fort Meigs, in what is now Wood County, and were coming toward the post at Upper Sandusky and Seneca. The British sailed around into Sandusky Bay, while their Indian allies marched across through the swamps and marshes of the Portage River. They expected to meet and make a combined attack upon Lower Sandusky while Harrison was engaged in protecting Forts Winchester and Meigs. The work known as Fort Stephenson was in reality an old stockade used for storage purposes, and inclosed an acre of ground.

Examination by Harrison some days before the allies invested Fort Meigs showed that the stockade was commanded by a hill to the southeast. It was not strong enough to resist heavy artillery, and only 200 men could be accommodated as a garrison. Croghan was left in charge, with orders that if the British approached by water, which carried the presumption that if they had their heavy artillery, he was to retreat, if possible, destroying both the fort and the public stores. If only the Indians came he was to stand fast, as retreat through these wary hostiles was an impossibility and a defense was a certainty.

On July 29 Harrison received word that the siege of Fort Meigs had been raised and that it seemed the intention of the allies to descend upon either Sandusky or Seneca. At a council of war held that night it was decided that Fort Stephenson was untenable and orders were sent to Major Croghan to carry out his original instructions. This order did not reach Croghan until the next morning at eleven o’clock. A council of his officers reached the decision that it was too late to retreat and the famous note was sent and the meeting with Harrison arranged. On August 1 the advance guard of the enemy was seen on the hill over the river. They were the fleet-footed Indians who had been observed by a reconnoitering party from headquarters the day before. There was but one piece of artillery in the fort, “Old Betsey,” and it was promptly fired, causing the redskins to retire. Within a half hour the British gunboats, a part of Commodore Barclay’s fleet, hove into sight. A landing was effected a half mile below the fort and a howitzer disembarked and mounted.

A British officer, Major Chambers, with a flag of truce, was sent forward and was met by Ensign Shipp, of the Seventeenth Regiment. The visitor demanded in the name of General Proctor the immediate surrender of the fort. The Americans were warned that it would be almost impossible to restrain the Indians in case of success, and that the whole garrison would be slain. The gallant answer was returned that the Indians would find no one to massacre when the fort fell, for every man had sworn to die before surrender.

The battle then opened, the gunboats, the land battery, five hundred Wellington veterans and eight hundred Indians joining in the attack. Throughout the evening Croghan fired his six pounder in a desultory way, moving it from place to place to make it appear that he had more artillery. Ascertaining from the enemy’s fire that the northwestern angle of the fort was to be reached, he made preparation to checkmate his plans. During the night the gun was removed to a block house which commanded that angle and the embrasure was masked. The piece itself was loaded with grape and slugs. Croghan’s foresight was vindicated when the next day additional artillery was landed and the hammering of the doomed angle was renewed. The shaking wall was reinforced with bags of sand and even of flour, making it capable of resisting the pounding. On the evening of August 2 the grand assault was launched, Colonel Short leading the principal column.

He rallied his men with great bravery under a destructive rifle fire and gained the ditch beneath the stockade walls. There he ordered his men to cut down the pickets and give the Americans no quarter. At the proper second of time the masked embrasure was thrown open and the slug-charged cannon was permitted to belch its death-dealing contents into the close packed mass of soldiers at short range. Few escaped this destructive fire. Colonel Short was killed.

The second column, led by Major Chambers and Colonel Warburton, was also defeated by the line in charge of Captain Hunter. When night came the enemy withdrew in a disorderly fashion, leaving behind them one of their gunboats, some of the wounded, much ammunition and many guns. At nine o’clock the next morning, Major Croghan sent an express to Harrison announcing his victory and the retirement of the defeated enemy. The defenders of the fort lost only one killed and seven wounded of the 100 men who answered roll call. Ten times that number opposed them, and 2,000 more were in reserve near Fort Meigs to cut off any reinforcement from that direction.

In his official report of the battle Harrison said: “It will not be among the least of Proctor’s mortifications that he has been baffled by a youth who has just passed his twenty-first year. He is, however, a hero worthy of his gallant uncle, Gen. George Rogers Clark.” The brevet rank of lieutenant-colonel was at once conferred upon the young hero by the president of the United States, and he was presented with a sword by the ladies of Chillicothe. Of this victory, Gen. W. T. Sherman, writing from the standpoint of a military expert, said: “The defense of Fort Stephenson by Croghan and his gallant little band was the necessary precursor to Perry’s victory on the lake and of Harrison’s triumphant victory on the Thames. These assured our immediate ancestors the mastery of the great West, and from that day to this the West has been the bulwark of the nation.”

The following year saw him made a full lieutenant-colonel. He served with distinction until 1817, when he resigned and went to New Orleans to live. He was made postmaster of that city in 1824. Some years later he was appointed inspector general of the army, and in 1835 he was voted a gold medal by Congress in recognition of his fight of twenty-two years before.

He died on January 8, 1849, while the guns were thundering their salutes in honor of another great victory, that of General Jackson, another Irishman’s son, over Packenham and the British below New Orleans in 1814. His body was removed to the old family burying ground at Locust Grove and buried near that of his famous uncle, where they were found last June by Maj. Webb C. Hayes, acting for the Fremont Chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution, which is named after Major Croghan.

They were removed to Fremont on June 10, and were placed temporarily in the vault at Oakwood Cemetery. The pall-bearers were five venerable survivors of the Mexican War who had enlisted in Sandusky County. The youngest was seventy-seven years of age and the oldest eighty-five. As Croghan was inspector-general of the army during the Mexican War, they can be said to have served under him. The dead hero left three children. His only son, St. George Croghan, died on the field early in the Civil War, wearing the gray of the Confederate army. A grandson, also George Croghan, survives, and there are other descendants on the distaff side.

The Daughters of the American Revolution have erected on the British redoubt 250 yards northwest of Fort Stephenson a tablet commemorating the fact that it was there that the cannon from Commodore Barclay’s fleet thundered against Croghan’s walls. Exultingly the fact is proclaimed that Barclay was afterward wounded and his entire fleet, including the cannon which had been used against Fort Stephenson, was captured by Commodore Perry at the battle of Lake Erie in the following September.

IRISH SETTLERS ON THE OPEQUAN.

The year 1718 marks an epoch in the history of America, because in that year a band of sturdy Ulster men turned their faces and fortunes towards the new world. This early and most important organized company of emigrants to leave Ireland in the eighteenth century sailed from Lough Foyle in the year above named, and consisted of about 100 families. (Marmion’s Maritime Ports of Ireland.) These people founded a colony in New Hampshire which became famous in the history of America. The emigrants were of as much importance to America as were those of Plymouth, and from them are descended equally if not more distinguished men.

In 1727, 3,000 people sailed for the North American colonies from Belfast Lough. The following year, ships took 1,000 more, and in the next three years as many as 4,200. The tidings of the success of the New Hampshire colonists and of those who preceded them to other parts of America, drew between the years 1720 and 1742 over 3,000 emigrants annually from Ulster alone. (Gordon’s History of Ireland.) This enormous emigration, for the period, was stimulated by the rich resources and grand opportunities offered in a new country on the one hand, and on the other by the land laws and the restrictions placed on Irish industries.

In 1736 a number of families emigrated from Banbridge, County Down, and neighborhood; amongst them were members of the Glass, MacDowell, Magill, Mulholland, Linn and other families. These people settled in the Shenandoah Valley on the banks of the Opequan, Virginia.

In the beautiful valley of Shenandoah, three miles south of Winchester, Va., you will find the ruins of the old Opequan Presbyterian Church, destroyed in the Civil War. From the Donegal (Pennsylvania) Presbytery, as early as 1736, the Presbyterian settlers received attention, as they were visited by missionaries and ministers from that Presbytery, making it the earliest preaching place in the valley. The first pastor was John Hodge, who may justly be esteemed the founder of the church, as he gave five acres of land for the church site and graveyard. Mr. Hodge, with many of his large family, are buried there, as well as Samuel Glass, the emigrant from Banbridge.

Samuel Glass, the leader of the Banbridge emigrants, took up his residence at the head spring of the Opequan, after many wanderings through the then almost pathless woods, naming the homestead Greenwood, from the grand old forest which covered for the most part the 16,000 acres of land which he had purchased. His son David settled lower down the river, at a place named Cherry Mead, and Robert, another son, took up his abode at Long Meadows. James Vance, a son-in-law of Samuel Glass, resided in the same neighborhood. Another son-in-law named Becket, lived between the Glass estate and North Mountain.—(Foot’s Sketches of Virginia, second edition.) Samuel Glass died at an advanced age, honored and respected by all the settlers over a large portion of the state; he had centered in his person many good characteristics—courage, thrift, perseverance. In the cemetery, near the old homestead, stands a monument to Samuel Glass and his wife, erected by his descendants. It is an obelisk, executed in limestone, standing on a pedestal, in all over ten feet in height. On the south side is inscribed:

Samuel Glass had six children: John, Eliza, Sarah, David, Robert and Joseph—all born at Banbridge. Joseph Glass, the son of Samuel Glass, had twelve children: Mary, Samuel, Robert, Georgetta, Sarah, Elizabeth, Joseph, Martha, Ruth, David, Nancy, and Sophia. Joseph Glass, son of Joseph, son of Samuel, the emigrant, entered the ministry of the Presbyterian Church. He was much esteemed, and widely known as an eloquent preacher. Other members of the family also distinguished themselves.

William Linn, son of one of these settlers, was born at Banbridge and served under Lord Dunmore, Governor of Virginia, in the wars with the Indians. In the several encounters which took place he distinguished himself, and was rewarded with a commission as lieutenant. Soon after the breaking out of hostilities with the mother country, Linn joined the First Virginia Regiment with the rank of lieutenant.

An expedition was organized with the object of securing ammunition from the Spanish authorities at New Orleans. Capt. George Gibson, an Ulsterman, was entrusted with the leadership of the party, and attended by Lieutenant Linn, with a detachment of their company, descended the river Ohio from Fort Pitt on the 19th of May, 1776, reaching New Orleans on the 22d of September, after a succession of adventures that, in narrative, more resemble romance than the features of sober truth. The shores of the Ohio were lined with hostile Indians, and no white man before had attempted the voyage. Captain Gibson having accomplished his mission, and being secretly released from prison, in which he had been confined to remove the suspicion of the British residents, placed Lieutenant Linn in command.

Captain Gibson took ship from New Orleans, taking with him the powder for service on the seaboard, and in due course landed at Philadelphia, and from thence proceeded to Virginia. Linn’s party, with a total strength of forty-three men, arrived at Wheeling in the spring of 1777, with the barges containing the supply of powder for the western posts. The party suffered many hardships and ran considerable risk from the Indians. For this important and arduous service Gibson was raised to the rank of major and Linn to that of captain. In 1780 we find Linn a colonel commanding a battalion at the battle of Pigua or Chillicothe, in which action he distinguished himself with bravery, his battalion having borne the brunt of the battle, losing many of its men. Colonel Linn continued to serve the revolted colonies after they had achieved their independence. He was ordered to the West to assist in the campaign against the Northwest Indians, and was killed in attempting to reach a secret rendezvous at a place called No-Linn-Hill, in Kentucky—a name acquired from the first exclamation of surprise by a party of his men not finding him at the spot.

“The Massachusetts Bay” was, of all the original thirteen colonies, the most hostile towards the Irish, and it made but little difference with the Puritans whether the former were Catholic or Presbyterian, all fared alike, and were looked upon as people neither to be encouraged nor tolerated.

However, they continued to come in, despite this dislike, in one capacity or another, and one—Captain Patrick—appears in the records of 1632. Florence McCarthy was a resident of Boston in 1686. He was a butcher by occupation, and one of the founders of the first Episcopal Church in the town.

Esther MacCarty’s name is signed to an indenture, as a witness, about the same period. According to Palfrey, New England, up to the beginning of the great Irish emigration, was more unmixed in blood than any county in England. While this may seem true of Massachusetts, it will hardly apply to New Hampshire, and will not stand investigation in the Bay State, for according to the same authority, 400 or 500 Scotch were transported by Cromwell to Massachusetts in 1651, and thirty-four years later 150 families of French Huguenots came, followed in 1719, by 120 families of Irish, mainly from the North of Ireland. To these mentioned by Palfrey must be added, on the authority of Drake, 200 families of the unfortunate Acadians sent to Massachusetts about 1750.

No mention is made at all of the thousands sold into a kind of slavery by Cromwell to New England and the West India Islands, from Ireland, and yet, between 1651 and 1655, on the authority of Prendergast, over 6,000 boys and girls, mainly from the South of Ireland, were shipped to those two points.

The addition of 400 or 500 Scotch, 150 families of French Huguenots and the unknown number of Irish arriving in Massachusetts in less than twenty-five years from the establishment of the colony of Massachusetts Bay, will justify a contradiction of this statement of Palfrey’s. The Acadians and the Irish are prolific, and in this respect could keep pace with their English neighbors, and a comparison of the well-known New England families of the past hundred years, with an equal number of families in any English county, will prove it, for names, as a rule, are the surest guides to nationalities, and scattered over New England, from the dates named, are families bearing well-known French and Gaelic names, many of them slightly changed, but enough left of the original to trace the transformation. When the War of the Revolution broke out, this mixture of English, Irish, Scotch and French blood was pretty well compounded, and it was not surprising that the men of the new American race humbled Britain, and brought her to her knees.

Adams and Hancock, Sullivan and Knox, Stark and McClary, Revere and Bowdoin were, in New England, representatives of the nations mentioned, while the names of Washington and Jefferson, Moylan and Carroll, Mercer and Paul Jones, Laurens and Marion, showed that the same process was at work throughout the colonies.

Many Americans, no matter whence they sprung, now mount the “Anglo-Saxon” hobby, which, like a circus steed, has been so well padded by writers of history that there is little danger of a dismount, and in order to be in harmony with the aristocratic trend of the age, a double hitch is provided by trotting out the “Scotch-Irish” nag as a running mate, a trifle bony, perhaps, and a little ungainly at first, but time, good feeding and careful grooming, will make a perfect match, for both are of the same stock-humbug—a princely origin, for in this age humbug is king, and its capital, unlimited, is wind.

While Irish blankets and Kilkenny rugs were mercantile commodities in New Hampshire before King William of “glorious and immortal memory” had trigged the wheels, Irish butter was a most desirable article in Boston, as we find that John Hancock, among other goods advertised in his Faneuil Hall store, speaks of “Newcastle coal and Irish butter cheap for cash.” Cork from time immemorial being the great butter mart, it would not be at all surprising if some of the light-footed and light-hearted sons of that lively city came over with butter. McCarthy is one of the great Cork names, and in addition to Florence and Esther, named between 1680 and 1760, Elizabeth, Thade, William and Calvin Maccarty are met quite frequently in the records of the town of Boston, all persons of means and holding responsible positions.

Florence was town constable in 1693, and Thade Maccarty was elected to a similar position in 1673. For damage to her house, blown up to check a fire, Mrs. Elizabeth Maccarty was awarded the sum of $300 and Maccarty’s corner, on King Street, was a locality frequently mentioned. Florence was a man of consequence, and one of the leading men in his business. Leave was given him, in 1693, to build a slaughter house, and from the frequent mention made of him he must have been the John P. Squire of his day at the Hub. William Bryant was a servant of Capt. William Hudson in 1679, doubtless one of Cromwell’s transports, many of whom were, by that date, scattered over New England, especially in what is now Maine and New Hampshire. Larry is quite common along the border, between the Pine Tree and Granite states, and the first met in history bear the distinctive given names of Cornelius, Dennis and Teige. O’Leary is a South of Ireland name, and the presence of persons bearing it so early in the colonies, substantiates what is stated by Prendergast in the Cromwellian Settlement.

Eugene Linch (Lynch) came to Boston from Virginia in 1712. The name of Lynchburgh in the “Old Dominion” denoted the presence of this good old Galway name. Eugene found a wife in Beverly; and although bearing an aristocratic Norman name, he was not good enough to reside in Boston, being ordered to go to Beverly and stay with his wife. James Bettrell, “an Irish shoemaker,” had better luck, however, being allowed to remain, on giving bonds. James Barry was a noted huntsman in 1702, and was complained of for allowing his dogs to run loose. The town constable ordered him to shut them up.

There is quite frequent mention of ships loaded with passengers from Ireland, bound for Pennsylvania or Virginia, putting into Boston, from stress of weather, want of provisions, or sickness among the people on board. Care was taken by the town authorities to prevent the landing of any of the passengers, and the records are full of such instances, between 1700 and 1800, and the town constables were at their wits’ ends to keep the unwelcome visitors out, for those who landed in other parts of the country came by land to Boston, attracted, no doubt, by the rising trade and manufactures of the future metropolis of New England. Of this class, undoubtedly, was Charles Conner, his wife and child, who came from Philadelphia in 1732, only to be ordered out of town at once—a fate many of his nationality had to suffer during this epoch.

Drake, in his Landmarks of Boston, says: “About 1718 a number of colonists arrived from Londonderry, bringing with them the manufacture of linen and the implements used in Ireland. These emigrants also introduced the general use of their favorite vegetable, the potato.”

They were not met with a warm welcome, however. So many were coming from Ireland, in 1718, that Dea. John Marian was ordered to appear before the courts and take such steps as he might deem proper to keep them away from the town of Boston, and in this respect the authorities were impartial. No distinction was made between the natives of Cork or Belfast, Londonderry or Limerick, the followers of the old faith or the new; all were treated alike; it was enough to know that they were Irish. But despite all the obstacles thrown in their way, they kept coming, and so fast that finally the town council resolved that some steps must be taken to register them, so in case any of them became a town charge, their nationality might be known.

To that end all persons receiving or entertaining any of the Irish people were ordered to notify the authorities, on penalty of being fined twenty shillings for the first forty-eight hours and ten shillings for every twenty-four hours afterwards. Repeated warnings were given, but were as often disregarded. January, 1719, John Maccanis, wife and four children, were ordered to leave (John McGuinnis would be nearer the mark). Two shiploads, under command of Capt. Robert Holmes and a Captain Dennis, were refused permission to land, the same year. In September, 1744, three Irish boys and sixteen Irish girls were captured by a French privateer and forwarded from Capt. Breton to Boston. Among them were James Connor, Thomas Bryan, Charles White, Mary Roberts, Mary Price, Sarah Agin, Mary Benson, Margaret Anderson, Sarah Hathay, Elizabeth Campbell, Mary Hammell, Eliza Fitzgerald, Sarah McMahon, Bridget McNamara, Eliza Dunster, Fanny Brady, Jenny Richardson, Kathleen Morris, Mary Derham. No doubt these poor waifs were looked after by the Charitable Irish Society, which was then instituted about seven years. The feeling against their nationality was gradually wearing away, and the settlements of their countrymen in New Hampshire were already furnishing the best fighting men against the French and Indians.

As early as 1758, the Macs, with many other well-known Irish names, were taking a prominent place in the town records. McCarthy, McCarroll, McClane, MacCluer, McConnell, McCown, McCullum, McDaniel, McDonnell, McDonald, McElroy, McFadden, McFarland, McGowan, McIntire, McKeen, McKey, McKnight, McKenzie, McLean, McNeal, McPherson, McQuestion, Mooney, Montgomery, Moore, Murphy, Ryan, Powers, Welch, etc., were entered side by side with their English neighbors, so that there is no question that Boston had within its borders when the Revolution broke out, a large share of that stock,—the Irish—which made its influence felt during the struggle, and which furnished in the massacre one of the first victims, in the person of Patrick Carr.

Besides Boston, there were few towns in New England where an Irishman could not be found between 1700 and 1800. In the contingent from Ipswich, Mass., in 1755, at Lake George, were John Fitzpatrick, William Connolly and Thomas Looney, and in the records of deaths in the town’s history is that of James Fitzgerald, who died in 1727. Americans bearing these names, some of them changed slightly, are found all over the country—Fitzes and Geralds, Patricks, and Connollys, the latter changed to Colony and Collony. The modern Fitzes discard any but a Norman origin, however, and the Patricks are, of course, “Scotch-Irish.”

Jeremiah Smith, born in Ireland in 1705, came to Massachusetts in 1726, locating at Milton. He was accompanied by his wife. He was the first to raise potatoes in the town, and the first to manufacture paper in the colony, and perhaps in the country. A neighbor of his, a Mr. Babcock, having raised two bushels of potatoes from seed given him by Mr. Smith, came to the latter and told him he did not know what on earth to do with so many. Mr. Smith told him not to fret, he would buy them of him. Babcock said he did not know what to do with his Irish help; they did not understand raising American vegetables; he sent one of them out to get some green corn for dinner the other day, and he came back without any, saying that “he had dug up five or six hills, and the divil a kernel of corn could he find.” Smith told him that the Irish knew as much about raising corn as the Americans did about raising potatoes, and knew less how to use them. Smith was a member of the Presbyterian Church in Boston. He bears honorable mention in the town history, and was respected by all his fellow-townsmen. He died in 1790.

John Sullivan was also interested in the manufacture of paper, in that section, between 1780 and 1790, and associated with him in the business were Patrick Connor and Michael McCarney. Others of Irish birth in the town at the same time, who were prominent in its affairs, were Peter O’Kelly, Hugh McLean, Peter McElroy and James McClary. That was quite a group of Irishmen in a suburb of Boston, and there was no question but that they were men of enterprise and push. O’Kelly, with his wife and six children, went to South Carolina in 1796. McCarney was one of a corporation, organized in 1798, the Mill Creek and Neponset River Company, for the manufacture of paper. Their mills were situated near where the chocolate manufactory of Walter Baker was afterwards located. McCleary’s name appears on the rolls of the Charitable Irish Society in 1789. This is one of the names noted in New Hampshire’s military and civil history. Maj. Andrew McClary, of Stark’s regiment, was killed at Bunker Hill. He was one of the finest looking, as he was one of the bravest, men in the army, and his death was then looked upon as a great loss to the cause of Independence.

Among those who went with a colony from the Massachusetts Bay to Delaware, in 1644, were John Nolin and his wife. The Swedes, who were already located there, looked upon the newcomers as interlopers, and made it very unpleasant for them. The result was the appointment of a commission to investigate the alleged outrage on the Massachusetts men. John Nolin was one of the principal witnesses, the Swedish governor having placed him in irons. Nolan was undoubtedly the correct way of spelling the name, and it would not be at all surprising if, like Darby Field of New Hampshire, he was one of the “Irish soldiers for discovery.”

John Patrick of Barre, Mass., was a lieutenant in the company recruited in that town, at the outbreak of the Revolution. His father was an emigrant from Ireland, and the original name was Kilpatrick. His descendants are scattered through New England, and like all sprung from Gaelic stock, have been prolific. He died in 1807, aged sixty-eight. Gen. M. R. Patrick, provost marshal of the Army of the Potomac, and at his death superintendent of the Soldiers’ Home at Dayton, Ohio, was one of his descendants. In harmony with the usage of the day, the descendants of the lieutenant derive a “Scotch-Irish” ancestry for the founder of the family.

Among the births recorded in Boston in the returns of births and baptisms, from 1630 to 1699, are Francis, son of Thaddeus and Eliza MacCarty, February 19, 1666; Thaddeus, son of the same parents, in September, 1670; Margaret, born February 25, 1676; Catherine, born January 23, 1679, of the same parents; Elizabeth, daughter of Florence and Elizabeth MacCarty, born December 25, 1687; Thomas, son of the same, born February 5, 1688 (evidently a mistake in dates); William, son of the same, born February 3, 1690. Mrs. Eliza MacCarty died July 6, 1696. Florence waited a little over a year before taking another partner, but not thinking it best to live alone, he married Sarah Newwork on August 24, 1697. She presented him with another Sarah in 1698.

The William MacCarty mentioned, became a noted shipmaster, and had the reputation of being a fine navigator. He was an enterprising man, fully up to the standard reached by his father and grandfather. The son, Rev. Thaddeus MacCarty, born in 1721, was a graduate of Harvard College and a minister in the Congregational Church. He was called to the pastorate of the first parish in Worcester, in 1746, where he remained thirty-seven years. He married a Welsh girl, and by her had fifteen children. He is described as being tall and slender, with dark eyes, sonorous voice and very pleasing address. He was a prolific writer, and like James Sullivan of another Munster family, one of the most scholarly men of his day; he died in 1784. His son, Thaddeus, born in 1747, was a noted medical practitioner. He first located in Dudley, then changed to Fitchburg, Mass., where he established a hospital for the treatment of smallpox by the Suttonian method. Here at one time he had 800 patients. He afterwards removed to Keene, N. H.

Another son, William MacCarty, was quartermaster of Colonel Bigelow’s Fifteenth Massachusetts Regiment in the Revolutionary War. Thus, in Massachusetts, three of the best known South of Ireland families, O’Brien (in Maine), MacCarty and Sullivan, were represented before and during the Revolution; and it is pleasant to record that all were true to the cause of Independence.

The Mackues had a representative in Timothy, son of Timothy and Ann Mackue, born October 20, 1699, probably one of the McCues or McHughes, all the same. Sarah, daughter of William and Olive McLoughlin, was born on October 29, 1689; and Eliza followed on September 10, 1691, who was joined by Mary, born on March 22, 1694. These undoubtedly are the ancestors of many McGloughlins, McLathlans, or Lafflins, as the fancy seized their descendants to alter the spelling, just as the name McCarthy became in time Maccarty, Maccartie, MacCarter, Carter or Carte, varied occasionally by Carty. On February 14, 1658, not a great many years after the founding of the colony, “James Webster a Scotishman & Mary Hay an Irish maid were married.” Mary was, no doubt, one of the poor girls torn from her home in Ireland, but hard as her lot was, she was fortunate in not being sent to the West Indies; but would it not be of interest to find, at the present time, the descendants of the Scotch laddie and the Irish lassie, the Websters of 1658?

Another couple, married April 5, 1692, bear names that denote Irish blood—Andrew Rankins and Grace Butler. The ceremony was performed by Gov. Simon Bradstreet. Daniel, son of Dermin—probably Dermot—Mahoone, was born Oct. 4, 1646. The next child born to the couple, on August 29, 1648, bore the well-known Irish name of Honour, and the name itself must have been Mahon, or Mahoney. Mrs. Mahone died November 8, 1656, and her husband, like his countryman, McCarty, did not remain single long, as another child, Margaret, was presented him on June 3, 1661, but it was after his death, which took place on April 2, 1661. His widow, Margaret, did not long grieve for him, for in the following July, 1661, the record reads, “Bryan Morfrey (Murphy) an Irishman & Margaret Mayhoone widow were married 20th July by John Endecott Governor.”

The Murphys were on hand “airly,” and no doubt made their mark, but where are their descendants? Hannah, daughter of John and Ann Cogan, was born September 6, 1636. This may be one of the characteristic names of England, but is more common in Ireland, being carried there by Milo De Cogan, one of Strongbow’s Norman knights. John was born to Garrett and Mary Bourne, May 30, 1643. Both given and proper names have an Irish appearance. The first Kelly having the honor of being entered on the records of births was Daniel, son of David and Elizabeth Kelly, born December 18, 1647; like the Murphys, they were on hand early; and also like the Murphys, are of the undiluted old stock, Gaelic to the core. Today, on account of the prominence of the name, it is as American as it is Irish, and what is still better, the spelling remains the same in both countries.

The first Butler, who heads the roll of a long line of descendants, and a representative of one of the most illustrious names on two continents, makes his bow in August, 1653, in the person of Benjamin, son of Stephen and Jane Butler. November, 1656, “Edmond Coussins of Pulling Point and Margaret Bird an Irish maid servant to John Grover of Rumney Marsh were married.” An Irish linnet to a French Huguenot, probably. Mary and John Bohanno, another Scotch laddie, and an Irish lass, were blessed with a little Mary on May 9, 1658. From these records it can be safely inferred that the exiles from Scotland and Ireland, the victims of Cromwell’s tyranny, were, in their persons, uniting the two branches of the old Gaelic race, as frequent mention is made of marriages between them.

Bohanno was undoubtedly Bohan or Buchanan, both from the same root. John Morrell, an Irishman, and Lysbell Morrell, an Irishwoman, were married, August 31, 1659. March 15, 1661, John Reylean, an Irishman, and Margaret Brene, an Irishwoman, were married by John Endicott, Governor. John, son of John and Sarah Starkey, was born on September 23, 1666, abbreviated later on to Stark. Barry appears on the roll, January 8, 1688. James, son of James, being born on that date. Kenney does not appear until 1691, when, on February 13, Moses and Margaret Kenny were blessed with the gift of a daughter. Like Butler and Kelly, this is not one of the most common names in America, as it is in Ireland—McKenna, Kenna, Kenny. Mulligan turns up in 1681, in the person of Robert, son of Hugh and Eleanor Mulligan, born on August 9. The Millikens and Mullikens can trace the stream and find the source, perhaps, here. Morrissey (spelled Morris and Morrisse) appears in 1655.

Edward Morris and Dermon (Dermot) and Honora Morrisse are mentioned quite often—some of the transports, undoubtedly. Another of the exiles, or the child of one, was Johanna Heffernan who married Christopher Vale in 1692. Mary Lynch married James Townsend in 1693, and Henry Townsen wedded Mary Keefe the same year—two more “Scotch-Irish” unions if names are an index to nationality—and still another at the same time was that of Mary Peard to Samuel Swetman.

The good old name of Hayes, in the persons of Thomas and his wife, Bridget, shows up July 25, 1690, when unto them a child was born, named Eliza. This is like some other names mentioned, found now all over the country; in this case, Bridget must be the Eve of the modern Garden of Eden—the Hub—at least so far as the Hayes’ are concerned, for she was the first of the tribe in the Trimountain Paradise. Reilly has two representatives in John and Bridget Rylee, who had born to them on September 10, 1693, a daughter, Hannah. After 1700, Irish names peculiar to the South, as well as the North of Ireland, rapidly appear. In the records of the selectmen of the town of Boston, September 27, 1736, John Savell was required to give a bond for a servant imported from Ireland by Captain Arnold. James Wimble had to do the same for George Lucas’ wife and child from Ireland.

Captain John Carrell—Carroll—ditto, for twelve persons he brought from Ireland in his vessel. Dinish and Honor Cniae—Kenna—and their two boys, were of this number. September 29, Joshua Winslow, Esq., gave a bond for William Steward, wife and two children, imported by Captain Boyd. Steward was a cooper, and in the following November was admitted an inhabitant of the town.

A certain green isle in a northerly sea is the historic home of the Irish people, but the present address of at least two thirds of the scattered race is “United States of America.” Boston, not Belfast nor Dublin, is now the greatest Irish city in the world; and the overwhelming majority of Irishmen who have risen to places of distinction have done so under the Stars and Stripes.

The historian who shall do full justice to the Irish branch of the human family has not yet appeared, either in the United States or elsewhere. Consequently, there are few races, if any, which have been so persistently misunderstood and undervalued. Even in this country, where such a mistake is least excusable, there has been a tendency in some quarters to regard the Irish as merely an element of the rank and file. The truth is that they have contributed their share of leaders and pioneers in almost every line of progress.

At least seven of our presidents have had more or less of Irish blood in their veins. Jackson, Buchanan and Arthur were the sons of Ulster parents; and the first American ancestor of Polk was an Irish immigrant. Monroe and McKinley were more remotely related to the “fighting race.” The latter, it is well known, was fond of saying, “We Irish.” Roosevelt, also, had several Hibernian twigs on his family tree. This, in itself, is an amazing record of Celtic leadership—to have helped to mold the character of seven American presidents out of twenty-five.

In the making of America, the Irish have been structural. No other word represents their influence so well. In the clearing of forests, the digging of canals, the building of railroads, and the extension of commerce, our civilization owes an incalculable debt to Irish hands and Irish heads.

In the traits of our national character, too, we Americans are all more Irish than we realize. Our versatility and buoyancy, our quickness of initiative, our free and unconventional ways, and the sporting instinct that leads us to take chances and beat records, are a few of the evidences of an Irish strain in our blood.

If the handiwork of the Irish were painted green, the average American city would be splashed on all sides with emerald hues. Yet there are few who are aware of this, even among the Irish themselves. A New Yorker, for example, may rise in the morning, bathe in water that comes from the Croton dam, built by James Coleman, ex-president of the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick; breakfast on Cudahy bacon; then take the subway, built by John B. McDonald, past the new College of the City of New York, built by Thomas Dwyer, to his office in a skyscraper built by John D. Crimmins, where he will cable to Alaska over a line laid by David Lynch, to order certain freight sent via James J. Hill’s Great Northern Railroad. Then, with a cigar bought from one of George J. Whelan’s 300 cigar stores, he will read the New York Sun, published by William M. Laffan and delivered by the American News Company, founded by Patrick Farrelly—and remark to an English friend:

“Yes, of course, this is an Anglo-Saxon country.”

When J. I. C. Clarke, the genial playwright, wrote his famous poem on “Kelly and Burke and Shea,” it was generally supposed to be a poetic fancy. On the contrary, I find it to be a simple matter of American history that the Kellys, the Burkes and the Sheas have been to the fore in every generation. They were all three in the battle of Lexington, as well as in the death-list of the Maine. When Hobson sank the Merrimac, a Kelly and a Murphy were his comrades in danger. Our first noted woman abolitionist was Abbie Kelley. William Darrah Kelley, of Philadelphia, was a Congressman for nearly thirty years. Hall Jackson Kelley was the founder of Oregon. The late Eugene Kelly, the New York banker, won renown as a philanthropist. Among the living members of this redoubtable family, James E. Kelly is a well-known electrical engineer. The Kelly Ax Company has a fifty-acre plant in Charleston, W. Va. Elsewhere * * * you will find the wonderful story of William Kelly, whose invention has added hundreds of millions to the wealth of the steel industry.

In the Burke family, three heroic figures appear in the first chapter of our Revolutionary history—Thomas Burke, the first governor of North Carolina; Adamus Burke, chancellor of South Carolina; and John Daly Burk, historian, patriot and duelist. All three were fighters with pen and sword, who made an indelible mark on the Southern states a century ago. In 1872, when Froude cast some aspersions upon the Irish, it was Father Thomas Burke who took up the cudgels against him. And at the present time we have Burkes enough in the United States to fill a “Burke’s Peerage” of their own. There are two bishops who bear the famous name, at Albany and St. Joseph; one brigadier-general, at Portland, Oregon; one congressman, in South Dakota; a railroad president, at Cleveland; and a judge at Seattle.

As for the Sheas, at least four of them have buffeted their way to the front—Gen. John Shea,^[8] who won his laurels in the Revolution; Capt. Daniel Shays, who first fought at Bunker Hill and then stirred up a little side-show rebellion on his own account; George A. Shea, an eminent chief justice of New York; and John Gilmary Shea, the historian of the Catholic Church in the United States.