Nick Gillespie at Reason.tv graciously asked to interview me about Samuel Smedley, Connecticut Privateer. This was back in July; the outside temperature was close to triple digits, which is why my shirt is open to the navel; and if you squint you can see the sweat drying on my forehead. But I’m very grateful to Nick, cameraman Josh Swain, and most of all editor Meredith Bragg, who cut the video so that I don’t resemble the blabbering idiot I was during the interview. Thank you!
Connecticut River Museum, Nov. 3, 5:30pm
I’m flattered to be the speaker for the Connecticut River Museum’s annual Horace Beck Lecture next week. I will be discussing Samuel Smedley, Connecticut Privateer and specifically the method of prize division that was the undoing of the Connecticut state navy during the American Revolution.
If you’ve never been, the Connecticut River Museum is a wonderful place on the banks of the Connecticut River focusing on the area’s 18th- and 19th-century maritime trade. It has a lot of great hands-on exhibits for children, including a 1:1 model of the submarine Turtle that kids can hop into and pretend to operate. It’s also right down the street from the gastrotacular Griswold Inn.
The presentation begins at 5:30pm on Thursday, November 3. All the deets here.
Ireland
The Kuhls went to Ireland. It was a trip we’ve discussed for years — I had never been — and serendipitously Mrs. Kuhl was engaged to speak at a conference in London. Speech well received, we hopped a Ryanair flight from Gatwick to Dublin.
We spent two days in Dublin — Book of Kells, Guinness Storehouse, many pints of Bulmers — then drove a lonely single-lane road (which isn’t even printed on some maps) over and through the mountains south of the city to Glendalough in the Wicklow Mountains National Park. The Glendalough Valley is the site of a monastic settlement founded in the 5th century. The cemetery is still in use.
I love the mohawk of trees edging the hill to the right.
A river runs through the valley, forming two lakes along the way. Visitors can hike the length of the valley to the feeding waterfall tumbling down the rocks. The terrain is almost Pleistocene.
Feral goats haunt the western woods of the valley, descendants of livestock raised by the workmen of a 19th-century lead and zinc mine. My son was sharp enough to spot a herd in the trees, so we crept up the slope to snap some pictures.
We stayed one night at Killiane Castle outside of Wexford. It’s a crumbling 15th-century castle with an attached 17th-century farmhouse. Guests sleep and eat in the farmhouse but you can tour the castle ruins. This is the view from the topmost tower, a precipitous structure without banister or parapet.
You can see cows and hens and there is an apple tree in the garden — all of which contributed to the fantastic breakfast we had. Even packaged produce like juice and ice cream we found in museum cafeterias originated in close proximity to wherever we were. You can’t not be a locavore in Ireland.
We were the only guests at the castle that evening so we had the run of the place. Kathleen Mernagh and her family are incredibly gracious hosts. Highly recommended.
Our boys have grown into terrific travelers, the result of vacations to Disney and countless long weekends away. They’re good-humored and fun, and even when they grow tired or cranky, it’s nothing food or a nap or a small treat can’t fix. We’re crazy about them.
When they’re big, I hope they remember the trips.
Smedley’s Stone
A number of people have contacted me regarding the restoration of Samuel Smedley’s crumbled gravestone, seen above. Here’s how events stand.
Historian and artist Bill Lee, who painted the images composing the cover of Samuel Smedley, Connecticut Privateer, is spearheading the effort to restore the stone. He has officially proposed restoration to the probate judge, whose office is responsible for the town cemeteries, and suggested an ad hoc committee of six (including the judge, Bill, and me) to oversee the process.
The next step is to have a professional examine the stone to see if it can be re-inscribed and reused. If not, then a new stone will be installed. Since Smedley was a veteran, public funds may be available to assist (particularly in the latter scenario — a new stone may cost as little as $25). Obviously financial estimates depend upon the assessment and the decision of how to proceed.
We’d like to unveil the restored or new stone on June 13, 2012 — the 200th anniversary of his death.
The original inscription never mentions Smedley’s service in the American Revolution. It reads:
SAMUEL SMEDLEY ESQ.
late Collector of Customes
for the District of Fairfield
died June 13, 1812.
Aged 59.
So in either case, it has been suggested that a plaque be placed near the gravestone more fully detailing Smedley’s life and role in Independence. If it’s determined to move forward with that idea, then we’ll very likely pass around the collection plate. In the meantime, I will post periodic updates here.
There Is at Times Some Pleasure
I will not be talking like a pirate on International Talk Like a Pirate Day — yet I have a suggestion for Talk Like a Pirate Evening. Tonight, why not curl up in your treasure den with a cup of rum, your favorite gentleman/gentlewoman volunteer (topless, natch), and a copy of Samuel Smedley, Connecticut Privateer?
I can’t resist the marketing opportunity but I do disagree with the association often made between pirates and privateers. Pirates were bound solely by the covenants they made with each other. American privateers like Smedley were regulated not only by the ship’s articles between the men but also by the rules of Congress. Privateers had to post bond to obtain their commission, and violating the rules of conduct — torture, stripping prisoners of their personal belongings, ransacking the cargo — meant loss of the bond and vulnerability to lawsuits from the aggrieved. While not directly analogous, Revolutionary privateers had more in common with the Minutemen or a posse comitatus than with Blackbeard.
The above painting is A Portrait of Things to Come by Marc Davis, a Disney imagineer. It hangs inside the Pirates of the Caribbean at Disneyland and depicts Scarlett, the redhead on the auction block whom guests meet later in the ride, subsequent to her going on the account. It’s a pirate’s life for her.