Remarks by Denise Dennis
Founder, Dennis Farm Charitable Land
Trust
For Symposium
“Black Patriots of the 18th
Century”
Delaware Humanities Forum and
Washington-Rochambeau Revolutionary
Route Conference
My
remarks today describe the Revolutionary War experiences of two
African-American patriots who were members of my family, Gershom Prince and
Bristol Budd Sampson.
Fortunately,
their service in the War for Independence is well documented. Indeed, much of what I am about to share
with you is taken from the Revolutionary War Pension Files.
Both
men enlisted in the Connecticut Line of the Continental Army in 1777 and both
died and are interred in northeastern Pennsylvania, where I grew up, although
their deaths occurred 70 years apart.
One lost his life in the Battle of Wyoming, a brutal attack known as the
Wyoming Massacre. The other passed away,
a very old man, surrounded by his family on his Pennsylvania farm. I’ve known their stories all my life and it
has been exciting, over the years, to find that our family’s oral history is
substantiated by documentation.
Gershom
Prince
Gershom
Prince was born in Connecticut in 1733.
Prior to the Revolutionary War, he served under Captain Robert Durkee of
Connecticut in the French and Indian War (1756-1763). It is important to note that, when he served
in both wars, northeastern Pennsylvania was a part of Connecticut. In 1662, under the Connecticut Charter, Great
Britain’s King Charles II granted land, Wyoming Valley, in what is now
Pennsylvania to the colony of Connecticut.
In 1768, the Susquehanna Company met at Hartford to make arrangements
for Connecticut settlements in Wyoming Valley, which led in, 1769, to the first
permanent settlement there by American colonists. However, Charles II had granted the same land
to the Pennsylvania colony, not because he was duplicitous, but because the
maps of America were not accurate. Between 1769-1771, colonists from Connecticut and
Pennsylvania fought over their claims to Wyoming Valley in the First
Yankee-Pennamite War. In 1774,
Connecticut established the town of Westmoreland in the Valley and as such,
sent representatives to the Connecticut legislature. When the fight for American Independence began,
the colonists put aside their dispute to participate in the war. After the Revolution, though, the dispute
resumed; this time, a Continental Congress Court of Arbitration intervened and
decided in Pennsylvania’s favor. Not
pleased with this outcome, Connecticut settlers continued to come to Wyoming
Valley and those already there refused to leave their homes, culminating in the
Second Yankee-Pennamite War in 1784.
Finally, the Pennsylvania legislature settled with the Connecticut
claimants in the Compromise Act of 1799.
Gershom
Prince was among the first of the Connecticut settlers to come to Wyoming
Valley and help build the fort near what is now Wilkes-Barre, PA, my
hometown. Wilkes-Barre was named for two
members of the British Parliament who spoke on behalf of the American
colonists, John Wilkes and Isaac Barré the latter of whom was severely wounded
in the French and Indian War. The 4th
Connecticut Line from Wyoming Valley, Westmoreland County, CT, commanded by
Colonel John Durkee, contributed two independent companies and smaller
detachments to the Continental Army under Captains Robert Durkee and Samuel
Ransom. Gershom Prince was an aide to
Captain Durkee and accompanied him on all his campaigns. The 4th Connecticut was organized
at Norwich and, in January 1777, joined Washington’s Army in New Jersey where
they were engaged at Milstone and Bound Brook.
After facing the enemy in an unsuccessful defense of Philadelphia at the
battles of Brandywine and Germantown, the 4th CT spent a gruesome winter
with the Connecticut regiments at Valley Forge.
The conditions at Valley Forge were so dismal and horrendous that the
Marquis de Lafayette was moved to write, “The unfortunate soldiers were in want
of everything; they had neither coats, not hats, nor shirts,
nor shoes. Their feet and legs
froze until they were black and some had to be amputated.” Yet, many survived the brutal elements,
illness and depravations of Valley Forge, including Captain Robert Durkee and
Gershom Prince.
Having
survived Valley Forge, though, they faced another deadly challenge. When, in the spring of 1778, rumors of a
threatened attack on Wyoming Valley reached the camp at Valley Forge, Captains
Durkee and Ransom resigned their commands in order to return to the Valley to protect
their families and homes. Gershom Prince
was one of a few men to accompany them as they hastened north, on horseback, to
alert the fort of the impending attack.
Wyoming Valley was vulnerable because all the able-bodied men were in
the Continental Army at Valley Forge. A
couple months later, under an Act of Congress, June 23, 1778, Durkee and
Ransom’s two companies were consolidated to form one and placed under command
of Lieutenant Simon Spalding. When
Washington broke camp at Valley Forge in June, Spalding’s company was ordered
to help defend Wyoming Valley.
Unfortunately, Spalding and his troops did not arrive in time.
On
July 3, 1778, 360 Americans under command of Colonel Zebulon Butler faced an
attack by a combined 900 enemy combatants that included 400 British and
Loyalists and 500 Iroquois warriors, all under command of British Colonel John
Butler. Outnumbered three-to-one, more
than 227 Americans were horrifically killed, compared to only one killed and
two wounded on the British side.
Two-hundred Wyoming Valley Americans were scalped, others were thrown on
beds of coal, and others burned alive when the fort was set ablaze.
Gershom
Prince, Robert Durkee and Samuel Ransom who’d traveled from Valley Forge to
defend their homes, were among those killed.
On
the Centennial of the Battle of Wyoming, a monument was erected on the site of
the battlefield for those who lost their lives and are buried there. The inscription on the front of the Monument
says,
Near this spot was fought, on the afternoon
of Friday, the third day of
July 1778, The Battle of Wyoming, in
which a small body of patriotic
Americans, chiefly the undisciplined,
the youthful and the aged, spared by inefficiency from the distant ranks of the
Republic, led by Col. Zebulon
Butler and Col. Nathan Denison, with a
courage that deserved success,
boldly met and bravely fought a
combined British, Tory and Indian force
of thrice their number. Numerical superiority alone gave success to
the
invader, and widespread havoc, desolation and ruin, marked
his savage
and bloody footsteps through the Valley.
The
inscription on the right and left side of the monument begins, “Dulce and
Decorum est Patri Mori,” and lists the names of the slain by rank. The last name listed under the rank
“Privates” is “Gershom Prince, colored.”
Prince
left behind a treasure, though, one that was removed from his lifeless body
after the battle and preserved. When he
was in the French and Indian War, Gershom Prince carved his name on the powder
horn he wore around his neck. Prince was
the uncle of my great-great-great-great grandfather, Prince Perkins, also
originally from Connecticut, and I learned about him from my father when I was
a child. My father repeated our family
history to me, including Gershom Prince’s story, throughout the years. My great aunt told me about the powder horn
and that, years before, she’d given it to the local historical society. One summer when I was home (Wilkes-Barre)
from college, I decided to look for more information about Prince and went to
the local library. Coincidentally, a
high school classmate of mine was working at the library and recognizing him, I told him about Prince and asked for his help. He disappeared for a while and then excitedly
returned with a massive, hardback volume, one of several volumes chronicling
the history of Wyoming Valley. He showed
me a page with a footnote about Gershom Prince at the bottom. The text on the page described Prince riding
with Captains Durkee and Ransom to warn of the Tory and Iroquois attack in
1778. The footnote explained that Prince
was “a Negro” and an “aide” to Durkee and included a sketch of Prince’s powder
horn. I immediately xeroxed the page, in
case anyone doubted the veracity of Prince’s service in both wars, and still
have the now-faded copy.
Years
later, in 1996, I was visiting Wilkes-Barre and, on impulse, decided to find
out whether my aunt, who had passed away in 1980, had actually given the powder
horn to the historical society. The
historical society museum was directly behind the library and I’d spent many
Saturday afternoons of my childhood looking at Native American arrowheads and
other artifacts in the museum, but I’d never seen the powder horn. So, that April day in 1996, I was suddenly
inspired to see whether or not it was there.
The door to the museum was closed when I tried to enter, so I knocked on
the door. A woman answered and I told
her who I was and what I hoped to see.
Explaining that they were closed, the woman nonetheless invited me to
enter and wait for the curator who would soon return. When the curator returned, I told her
everything my father and aunt had told me about Gershom Prince and asked
whether the museum had the powder horn.
She nodded, a barely visible smile on her lips, and left the room. When she returned, she was wearing white
gloves and carrying a box and another pair of soft, white cotton gloves, which
she handed me. I put the gloves on--and
she gently lifted from the box Gerhsom Prince’s powder horn and placed it in my
hands. Although I’d known that he’d
carved his name on it, I was deeply moved to see that he had also carved
exquisite artwork, beautifully detailed images of trees, forts and scenes from
everyday life on the white bone of the horn.
His inscription, also carved on the horn, reads, GARSHOM PRINCE HIS
HORN MADE AT CROWNPOINT SEPTM. YE 3RD DAY, 1761 PRINCE+ NEGRO HIS HORNM.
I’d
never doubted what my father and aunt told me about our family relative, but it
was thrilling to hold the concrete evidence in my hands. When I was growing up, African Americans were
less the one percent of the population of Wyoming Valley and the surrounding
counties in northeastern Pennsylvania.
Often, people have asked me how our family came to live there. My reply was—and is--that we were there
before Wilkes-Barre (founded in 1805) was even a town. So, in spite of being in a minority position
numerically, I grew up with an unshakable sense of belonging, so much so that I
took it for granted. I didn’t feel like
a “minority” at all.
Bristol
Budd Sampson enlisted in the Connecticut Line in March 1777, to serve for the
duration of the war. (Many soldiers
enlisted for only three years.) He was
placed in Connecticut’s 2nd Regiment, commanded by Colonel Charles
Webb, which reported to Peekskill, New York in the summer of 1777. The 2nd Regiment left Peekskill
for Whitemarsh, Pennsylvania when Washington requested more troops from his
northern camps. On December 8, they met
the British at Whitemarsh, 20 miles from Philadelphia, along high hills that
offered an effective, natural defense.
Although General Howe tired to lure Washington from this impenetrable
position, he failed to do so. Instead,
realizing that they were outnumbered, Washington’s troops fell back from the
skirmish, leaving Whitemarsh to the British.
After Whitemarsh, the 2nd Regiment was detached from the 1st
Brigade and attached to the 2nd Brigade under Huntington, which
meant it was part of McDougall’s Division, directly under Washington’s command,
when they entered winter quarters at Valley Forge. On December 12, the 2nd CT began
the 13-mile march from Whitemarsh to Valley Forge on the west bank of the
Schuylkill River. The march was delayed,
however, and ended up taking nine days.
After observing a day of Thanksgiving on December 18, the troops arrived
in Valley Forge on December 19 unaware of the devastating winter before them.
A
secret supply of goods had been stored in the village of Valley Forge, in
preparation for the army’s winter stay.
However, the British discovered the cache of goods after the Battle of
Brandywine and raided the village stealing all they could carry and burning the
rest. By the time the Continental troops
arrived, virtually nothing but trees and scorched earth remained. The American soldiers had nothing to eat and
drink but firecakes (flour and water batter cooked on a griddle) and water, and
no winter garments to cover their bodies.
Temperatures that winter dropped to 20-30 degrees; and during the first
six weeks, it rained or snowed for thirteen days. Anguished by the plight of his soldiers,
Washington accused Congress of “little feeling for the naked and distressed
soldiers. I feel superabundantly for them, and from my soul pity those miseries, which it is
neither within my power to relieve or prevent.”
The
situation did not improve until March when General Nathanael Greene,
Washington’s trusted Rhode Island general, was appointed quartermaster. Through Greene’s efforts, bridges and roads
were improved making it possible for food and clothing to reach the needy
troops. In spite of the hardships they
endured, the estimated 3,000 men who perished, and although they had arrived at
Valley Forge a ragged, untrained army—the troops who survived that winter
emerged a well-trained army prepared to wage war against the British.
The
arrival in February of Baron von Steuben, who created a system of training
appropriate for the Americans, led to the transformation of the army. The first test of Washington’s Von Steuben
trained army came in June 1778, when they broke camp at Valley Forge. Still under Huntington’s command, Bristol
Budd Sampson’s regiment followed the British, who had left Philadelphia on June
18, from Philadelphia to Monmouth, New Jersey.
Ten days later, on June 28, the Continental Army defeated the British at
Monmouth, a timely and emotionally gratifying victory for the Americans. From Monmouth, the 2nd Regiment
marched with Washington to White Plains, New York. Washington called all the Continental
regiments stationed up and down the Hudson to come to White Plains, which
proved to be the largest encampment of the regular troops during the war. Bristol Budd Sampson was a young man at the
time and one can only imagine how he felt—looking about and knowing that he was
a part of this enormous army gathered together.
At White Plains, Washington assigned his regiments to winter quarters
and the 2nd CT was assigned to Redding, Connecticut. From Redding, the regiment was ordered to the
Highlands on the east side of the Hudson, opposite West Point.
In
July 1779, Washington selected 40 to 60 men from each of his regiments to serve
in the elite Light Infantry Corp.
Washington placed General Anthony Wayne in command of the Light Infantry
Corp, with instructions to recapture Stony Point. In the spring, the British had captured the
forts at Stony Point and Verplanck’s Point across from each other on the Hudson
River, near West Point. These two points
formed the “gateway to the Hudson.”
Jutting
out into the Hudson, more than a half a mile and rising 150 feet from the
water, Stony Point was a formidable promontory and its
having been taken by the British posed a possible threat to West Point,
considered “the key to the Continent.”
The Light Infantry Corp was comprised of “handy and active veterans
chosen for alertness, daring and military efficiency” and was composed of four
regiments. Bristol Budd Sampson served
in the 3rd Regiment, all Connecticut men, under Colonel Return
Jonathan Meigs. Surprising the British
with a bayonet attack, under cover of darkness, the Light Infantry recaptured
Stony Point with barely a shot having been fired. The victory at Stony Point was significant
because it demonstrated that the Americans could prevail against the vaunted
British Army, which inspired the Continental Army and the American people. Historian Christopher Ward writes, “A
successful attack upon British regulars in a fortified position with bayonets alone, was an achievement unparalleled up to that time.”
After
Stony Point, as part of the Connecticut Division, Bristol Budd Sampson spent
the winter of 1779-1780 in quarters at Morristown, New Jersey, which proved to
be even more severe and lacking in provisions than Valley Forge. Between February and September 1780,
Sampson’s Division marched from Westfield, NJ north to West Point, NY, across
the Hudson to the Highlands, south to Peekskill and King’s Bridge across the
Hudson, south to Fort Lee, NJ and north again to Orangetown, NJ, near West
Point. They were in Orangetown when they
heard about Benedict Arnold’s betrayal.
Bristol Budd Sampson served in the Connecticut Line until it was
dissolved in the summer of 1783.
In
1814, Sampson lost his sight and unable to work, petitioned for his war pension
in 1818.
His
commanding officers and fellow soldiers from other regiments in the Connecticut
Line wrote affidavits confirming Sampson’s service including that in the Light
Infantry Corp. Bristol Budd Sampson
himself signed an affidavit in which he named the officers under whom he served
in the Light Infantry Corp, including Col. Meigs. In 1821, he received his first pension
payment, plus a sum payment for the years 1818-1821 when his claim was being
decided. Bristol Budd Sampson married
Phebe [sic] Perkins, the daughter of my great-great-great-great grandparents,
Judith and Prince Perkins, free African Americans who came to Pennsylvania from
Connecticut in 1793 and purchased land.
He and Phebe lived with her family until, with the additional pension funds,
he was able to purchase land next to his in-laws. This region of northeastern Pennsylvania,
also claimed by Connecticut and about forty miles from the site of the Wyoming
Massacre, wasn’t settled until after the Revolutionary War and the Prince Perkins
family was one of the first families to build homes there. Consequently,
Bristol Budd and Phebe Perkins Sampson, like Judith and Prince Perkins, were a
part of the first post-Revolution westward homesteaders.
Every
six months, the Revolutionary War pensioners in Sampson’s county would go to
the courthouse in Montrose, Pennsylvania to receive their pensions. Then, they would gather on the lawn in front
of the courthouse and reminisce about the war.
A letter, written in 1869 by the son of one of the pensioners describes
these gatherings and offers a brief portrait of Bristol Budd Sampson.
Among those who met at these
semi-annual gathering was one Sampson,
a full-blooded African who had
served through the war. The silly
prejudice
against color found no place among
these heroes. It was sufficient for
them to know that a man had
served under Washington to entitle him
a place in their hearts. Sampson was treated as a perfect equal. His
misfortune, for he was blind, increased
their interest in him…
Prior to the adoption of the present
Constitution of Penna [sic] in 1838,
colored men were voters, a privilege
that Sampson usually availed himself
of. How bitter & mean that prejudice that
would deprive a revolutionary
veteran of the dearest privilege of
freemen—the right to vote.
Often I have heard my father
(Revolutionary veteran Josiah Mills)…
speak of the three African
Regiments in the revolutionary war …and
of the gallant & effective
service they render[ed]. And in
connection with
this he would denounce the system
of American Slavery as something
abhorrent, utterly at variance with
the principles he had shed his blood
to maintain.
Revolutionary
War veteran, Bristol Budd Sampson passed away in 1848, surrounded by his wife
and children. His remains rest in the
Perkins-Dennis Cemetery on the Dennis Farm in Brooklyn Township, Pennsylvania.
Knowing
the stories of Gershom Prince, Bristol Budd Sampson and other African American
Revolutionary War patriots benefits all Americans by reminding us of our shared
heritage. Their stories tell black
Americans that even during a time when black people were held in slavery, there
were free African American men, true sons of liberty who, as they fought for
the nation’s independence, were fighting also for the freedom of their enslaved
brethren. The stories of
African-American patriots tell non-black Americans that African Americans
contributed to achieving the freedom and way of life Americans enjoy today. Knowing my family’s history has given me
strength and a sense of being connected to the past and the future. It has enabled me to know my place in
time. There is a ravine on the Dennis
Farm that is surrounded by a grove of trees, old trees with roots deep in the
earth. Knowing my family’s history makes me think of
those trees; I, too, have deep roots in this American land.
Denise Dennis is Founding President
of The Dennis Farm Charitable Land Trust, which was
established in 2001, for the preservation of the two-hundred year old
Dennis Farm in Pennsylvania’s Endless Mountains including the Prince Perkins
Archeological Site, Perkins-Dennis Cemetery where Revolutionary and Civil War
veterans are buried, stone walls dating back to the early 19th Century, farm
house, and forest. The DFCLT mission is
to develop an educational and research center on the 100 + acre site where
scholars, school groups, researchers and cultural heritage tourists can visit
and learn about this little-known chapter in American history, the story of
several generations of a free African-American family who have been landowners
in the north for two centuries and their role in American, Pennsylvania and
agricultural history.