Wednesday evening, Carol, Ms. M., Roger, and I joined the watch party for the opening worship service for General Assembly. The video worship service was well done — the script was good, the performances of the individual elements were well done, and the editing as good. But online worship always makes me feel like a passive consumer, whereas live worship (if it’s done right) makes me feel like an active participant.
Not that many people showed up for the watch party. A few hours earlier, the room looked nearly full, with a few hundred ministers and family members. But for this watch party, the room felt empty.
I also noticed how the audio system boosted the lowest audible frequencies. If you record your audio with a mediocre microphone, your audio track can be filled with low frequency rumble. When you listen to that audio on your laptop, you’re not going to hear that rumble (unless you have really good headphones). But when you pump that audio through speakers big enough to fill a hotel ballroom, that rumble is going to be noticeable. This is something I’m going to remember to be aware of if I ever produce video/audio content that will be heard in a large room.
On Thursday morning, I started walking to the convention center from our hotel. I got almost all the way there when I realized that I had forgotten my face mask. So I walked back to the hotel, and then back again to the convention center, by which time the “Meet the Moment” programming had already started. I tried to figure out which programs were in which room, but I found the Whova event app so user-unfriendly that I gave up and downloaded the PDF program from the UUA website. Then I saw that we are supposed to commit to a single “Meet the Moment” program track for all three days. Frustration set in. Just then, Jen, an old friend, walked up. Jen said she was going to several different “Meet the Moment” tracks, because she was the only person from her congregation and she wanted to be able to go to as many tracks as possible. Yay! I had permission to ignore the rules!
At lunch, I walked through the Baltimore heat to a ramen place about ten minutes away. I was joined by Jen and Abby, who belongs to a UU congregation near my congregation. Abby and I talked about ways our congregations could cooperate. (It’s a little weird that I had to travel all the way to Baltimore to meet someone from a nearby congregation.) Then Jen reminded us both that Spirit Play would be a great kids program for small congregations like ours. So far, this lunchtime conversation is the most valuable thing I’ve gone to at this General Assembly.
Now I’m sitting in the meeting room listening to this year’s Congregational Study/Action Issues (CSAI). Somewhat to my surprise, there’s a CSAI that is fully aligned with one of the big priorities of our congregation — “Housing: Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion.” And one of the speakers in support of this CSAI actually mentioned classism (she’s affiliated with UU Class Conversations). The other two CSAIs are also worthy projects, but as the only delegate from our congregation, I’m going to vote for the issue that I think will be of the greatest interest to us.
It was nine o’clock by the time we checked into our hotel, so I gave up on any notion of attending the last activities at Ministry Days, the annual meeting of the Unitarian Universalist Ministers Association. In the morning, I walked the four blocks to the convention hotel in time for the opening worship service at Ministry Days. The service was fine, but marred both by the horrible acoustics and dreary aesthetics of the hotel ballroom (I never understood why they call it a “ballroom” when no one holds balls any more), and the uncomfortable chairs that always seem to plague hotel ballrooms.
I went for a long walk during our lunch break, and arrived back in time for the afternoon program. The program tracks included “Joy and Creativity,” “Rest Is Resistance,” “Organizing” (community organizing, not organizing your job better), and identity caucuses. None of these seemed like a good match for my professional development needs, so I sat outside the meeting rooms and waited to see if I’d wind up in an interesting conversation. Sure enough, Jay Atkinson sat down and started to tell me about a research project he’s working on. Our Unitarian Universalist leaders, said Jay, often talk about “our theology” as that which unified Unitarian Universalism. But what is that theology? Do we even have a distinctive Unitarian Universalist theology? I especially liked the distinction between “scholarly theology” and “vulgar theology.” Jay told me the name of the scholarly theologian who coined those terms, a name which I promptly forgot, but it’s a useful distinction, analogous to the distinction that sociologists make between “lived religion,” the religion of ordinary people, as opposed to the religion of elite practitioners.
Carol and I had dinner with Ms. M and Roger. Fortunately the restaurant wasn’t crowded, because we were there for two hours catching up with what was going on in each other’s lives.
This morning, I went back to the convention center hotel for the opening worship at Ministry Days. But I just wasn’t in the mood for sitting in a dreary hotel ballroom with a few hundred other people, passively consuming the excellent music, the dance performance, and the spoken word. I ducked out and now I’m headed up to the Walters Art Museum to meet Carol.
I’m leaving tomorrow for “Ministry Days,” the annual gathering of the UU Ministers Association, and after that I’ll be at General Assembly (GA) until Saturday morning. This year, I’ve done very little advance planning. The only session I know I want to attend is the session on Thursday afternoon on ending poverty. I have train tickets, I have a hotel room, I’m registered — beyond that, I’ll be making it up as I go along.
The photo above shows what the Minutemen were fighting for during the Revolutionary War. They wanted no kings, no dictators, no emperors. They wanted the right to rule themselves, without having some old rich guy, someone who thought he was more important than they were, telling them what to do. That’s what the American flag stands for — no kings, no tyrants, no dictators.
And now, two hundred and fifty years later, King-wanna-be Donny is trying to establish a new monarchy and tyranny. But here in Massachusetts, where the Revolution began, we still don’t want any kings. We still don’t want some old rich guy, someone who thinks he’s better than we are, telling us what to do. Way back in 1776, Thomas Paine described people like King-wanna-be Donny as insolent, poisoned, ignorant, and unfit:
“Men who look upon themselves born to reign, and others to obey, soon grow insolent; selected from the rest of mankind their minds are early poisoned by importance; and the world they act in differs so materially from the world at large, that they have but little opportunity of knowing its true interest, and when they succeed to the government are frequently the most ignorant and unfit of any throughout the dominions.”
On this Flag Day, remember the original meaning of the American flag: no kings, no tyrants, no dictators.
Crossing the Border St. bridge, I looked out over Cohasset Harbor. Someone was fishing the whitewater where the tide was running out over the rocks into the harbor. When I got safely across the bridge, I stopped to look, and saw that he was using a fly rod. Mostly I see people using bait and spinning gear. This is the first time I’ve seen someone fly fishing in Cohasset Harbor.
The thought that immediately came into my head was that I’d have to tell Dad about this next time we talked. I gave my head a figurative shake — Dad died nine years ago, I wasn’t going to be talking to him about this. I mean, yes, I could talk with him about it in my imagination, but he wouldn’t be able to tell me whether he had ever gone fly fishing in saltwater (he probably had) and if so, what flies he had used and what he had caught.
Old habits die hard. For the last seven years of Dad’s life, I was living three thousand miles away in California. The last two years, he couldn’t talk any more. Up until then, I’d call him most Sundays, and we’d talk for an hour or so. I wasn’t doing much fishing while I lived in California, and Dad wasn’t doing much fishing those last five years. But we both still thought about fishing and we both still liked to talk about fishing, if either of us had anything new to say. So it’s not surprising that when I saw that guy fly fishing, I’d think about talking it over with Dad.
Here it is, nine years after he died, and there are still a bunch of things I’d like to talk over with Dad. And maybe I’ll go fishing on Father’s Day.
Kara brought back White Rabbit candy from her visit to China. She gave me a small bag to try.
The candy starts off as very firm, becoming chewy as it warms up in your mouth. There’s an edible inner wrapping made of glutinous rice, which addes to the texture. The original flavor is very mild, milky and vanilla-y, and not very sweet. Interesting. I found out that the candy originated in Shanghai, and I find it reminiscent of the mildness of other Shanghai cuisine.
There were many flavors in the small bag Kara gave me, not just the original flavor. From what I can find out online, there are at least 16 flavors: Original plus Banana, “Brown creamy,” Chocolate, Coffee, “Cooling” (mint), Durian, Lychee, Maize (corn), Mango, Matcha, Osmanthus, Salty plum, Wasabi, Red Bean, Yogurt.
Some of the flavors I liked a lot. One of my favorite flavors was wasabi — it had just a touch of wasabi, not too spicy, a nice contrast to the underlying milky mildness of the candy. My other favorite flavor was what’s called “cooling” (what I’d call mint) — which also provided a nice contrast to the underlying flavor of the candy. Red bean was a little odd to my Western palate, but I did like the way it reminded me of dim sum red bean buns.
Other flavors I didn’t care for as much. Osmanthus was only faintly floral, and overall too bland for my tastes. Matcha didn’t work for me — I guess if you like boba tea this would be good, but I like my matcha unsweetened and with no milk.
The best thing about White Rabbit candy is its mildness. It’s not too sweet; by contrast, I find most American candy far too sweet. And the flavors are subtle, not overpowering like some American candies.
Our twice-monthly ukulele group will be hosting a half-day ukulele festival on Sunday, October 5, 2025. More info here.
This entirely free event is being sponsored by my employer, First Parish in Cohasset, in cooperation with the Cohasset Historical Society. We’re able to make this a completely free event, thanks to a grant from the Gleason Music Fund at First Parish, in-kind support from both First Parish and the Historical Society, as well as a generous anonymous donation. We’re also on a Massachusetts Cultural Council grant application submitted by the Historical Society — if that grant comes through, we’ll be able to increase accessibility with an ASL interpreter for the final concert.
If you’re in the Boston area, hope to see you there. Even if you don’t play ukulele, come join us for the free concert at 4:30.
I started out this series by saying that sometimes the stories of Revolutionary War heroes and heroines have been partially forgotten, or details have been obscured. In this follow-up post, I’ll tell a little about how I researched the stories of Persis and Allen Lincoln, and the story of Briton Nichols. Maybe this will inspire other people to do some research into ordinary Revolutionary War veterans — a worthwhile thing to do as we celebrate the 250th anniversary of the start of the American Revolution.
One place to start researching an individual is by looking through the local history of a given town or city. During the middle part of the 19th century, many municipalities from the 13 original colonies had local histories written. And in most cases, whoever wrote that local history would be sure to record any local traditions about those who served in the Revolution. So, for example, for the town of Cohasset where I live, Victor Bigelow wrote a history of the town in 1898, and he provided lists of those who served and told many stories of the town’s participation in the Revolution.
That being said, local histories may contain local traditions that have gotten muddled over time, and most local histories contain lots of small errors of fact. So the next step is to see if you can find corroborating evidence from other sources. Which can be a huge job. Cohasset is a small town, but there were more than 125 men from the town who did military service during the Revolution. Volunteer local historians like me don’t have time to research all 125+ individuals who served in the Revolution. You have to narrow your focus to research a few individuals in depth.
But how do you narrow your focus? Here are some strategies:
(1) Research a college graduate, who would be far more likely to appear in the written record than non-college graduates. For example, you can find brief biographies of Harvard graduates in the series Sibley’s Harvard Graduates.
(2) Research famous or semi-famous persons, or persons who are part of prominent families. For example, if you were researching persons from Braintree or Quincy, you could start with anyone related to John Adams; there are lots of published genealogies and published histories of the Adamses.
(3) To research ordinary people, start with unusual person names (such as Briton Nichols) and unusual place names (such as Cohasset). Those will be easiest to find information on.
(4) As you’re researching one person, you might run into a lead from someone else altogether (e.g., when researching Briton Nichols, I discovered Ambrose Bates kept a war diary). Keep note of those other leads so you can follow up later.
Next, here are some research strategies:
(A) Use the power of internet search. More and more 18th century documents are being digitized, making information easily available online. This works best with Search using several different search tools — I start with DuckDuckGo, first with the person’s name and place name along, then adding the following to the search string: site:.archive.org (which searches through the many books digitized by the Internet Archive) and site:.loc.gov (which searches the Library of Congress website). Next, I’ll search Google Books. Finally, I’ll try regular Google search (Google seems to turn up a lot of crap these days, which is why I leave it till last).
(B) Search genealogy sites. I use FamilySearch.org, which is free, although it does require you to set up a free account. Paid genealogy sites may give you more information, but FamilySearch.org is a good place to look for Revolutionary War military service records. Additionally, amateur genealogists may have done additional research on some individuals — but be cautious about trusting the work of amateur genealogists. Always click through to look at the sources they cite, and then click through and look at the actual digitized images for those sources (which is how I found out that Persis Lincoln and Allen Lincoln were married by Rev. John Browne of Cohasset).
(C) Don’t forget your local library. Many local libraries have local history sections. If there’s a librarian who has responsibility for the local history section, get to know that person, and ask for help when you need it.
EXCEEDINGLY IMPORTANT: For each little tidbit of information you find, make sure you record where you found it, including full bibliographic information. Footnote everything! You want other people to be able to review your research. You want citations for every single fact. If you don’t have citations for everything, others will assume you’re a sloppy researcher, and discount your work accordingly.
That’s a very brief overview of how you might begin to research individual people to find out their stories. Good luck — and don’t forget to share your research, so others can appreciate it, and correct any errors you might make, and generally help further our knowledge of Revolutionary War veterans.
The second story of a Revolutionary War veteran is especially interesting because of the way historians have been able to connect separated facts in the historical record, and then tell a fuller story of one person. This is the story of Briton Nichols.
In the historical record, you can find a list dating from July 19, 1780, giving the names of nine men from Cohasset who began six month’s military service on that day.(10) One name on that list, the name of Briton Nichols, stands out for two reasons. First, he had a very unusual name; the written record shows no other man in Massachusetts with the first name of Briton. Second, Briton Nichols is identified as being Black, the only person on that list whose race is given, and (as near as I can tell) the only Black man from Cohasset who served in the American Revolution.
Because Briton Nichols had such an unusual first name, and because his race is given, historians have been able to trace his life in more detail.(11) Historians discovered that in 1760, he published a book in which he told of thirteen years worth of adventures.(12) As a boy, he was enslaved by the Winslow family of Marshfield. At that time, he called himself Briton Hammond. On December 25, 1747, with the permission of his master, Briton left Marshfield to go on a sea voyage; perhaps his master hired him out as a sailor, taking a cut of his salary, a common practice in those days. Briton doesn’t say how old he was when he sailed, but later sources give his birth year as roughly 1740, so he may have been a boy or a young teen. The ship Briton was on sailed for Jamaica, took on a cargo of wood, and sailed north. Having struck a reef off Florida, the ship was attacked by Native Americans who killed everyone except Briton, and then set the ship on fire. After being held captive by the Native Americans for five week, he was able to make his escape on a Spanish schooner, whose captain recognized him, and took him to Havana, Cuba. The Native Americans followed and demanded the Governor of Havana return Briton to them, but the Governor paid ten dollars for him and kept him. A year later, Briton was caught by a press gang, but he refused to serve in the Spanish navy and was thrown in a dungeon.
Title page of the book written by Briton Hammond (later Briton Nichols), from a digitized version on the Library of Congress website.
Briton was finally released from the dungeon four years later, though he was still trapped in Havana. Then a year after his release from the dungeon, he managed to escape from Havana aboard a ship of the British Navy. It appears Briton served in the British Navy for some time thereafter, aboard several different ships, until 1759 when he was wounded in the head by small shot during a fight with a French ship. Briton was put in Greenwich Hospital, where he recovered from his wounds. After additional service on British Navy ships, this time as a cook, he managed to find a berth on a ship bound for New England. By coincidence, his old master, one General Nichols, was on the same ship. Through that chance meeting, Briton was finally able to return to his home in Marshfield after a thirteen year absence.
Soon after his return from Marshfield, Briton’s account of his adventures was published in Boston, perhaps the earliest published memoir written by an African American. Two years later, in 1762, Briton married Hannah, a Black woman who was a member of First Church in Plymouth (today this a Unitarian Universalist congregation). In the late 1770s, Briton left the Winslow family, possibly upon the death of his master, and moved to Cohasset to join the Nichols family; at this time he changed his last name from Hammond to Nichols.
In 1777, Briton joined the Continental Army.(13) He must have been around forty years old when he enlisted. We can only speculate as to why he decided to enlist at that age. Most likely, enlisting in the military was a way for him to free himself from slavery. Ambrose Bates, who was one of Briton’s messmates, left a diary that tells a little about their military service.(14) Briton Nichols, Bates, and the rest of their contingent left Cohasset on August 27, 1777, and finally reached Saratoga, New York, in early September. There they joined the conflict between the Continental forces and General Burgoyne’s forces. Much of their military service was filled with boredom. Several days were filled with monotonous marching back and forth from one place to another. On other days, Bates simply records, “Nothing new today.” Those days of boredom were interspersed with days where they had more than enough excitement. To give just one example, on October 7, Bates recorded: “today we had a fight we were alarmed about noon and the fight begun, the sun two hours high at night and we drove them and took field pieces and took sum prisners.” The tide of battle was with the Continental forces, and Burgoyne finally surrendered on October 16. Soon thereafter, Bates and the other Cohasset men marched down to Tarrytown. Their service in Tarrytown was less exciting. Finally, on November 30 their term of military service ended, and they began marching home. They finally arrived back in Cohasset on December 7. So ended Briton Nichol’s first term of military service.
Briton Nichols enlisted again in 1780, giving his age at the time as forty years old.(15) I suspect he lied about his age, presenting himself as younger than he was. I could find no details of his 1780 military service. The next time I found him in the historical record was in the 1790 federal census. At that time, he was living in Hingham as a free Black man, along with his second wife Experience and one other household member, probably their child.
The story of Briton Nichols shows how we can recover some of the lost knowledge of Revolutionary War veterans. Briton Nichols was little more than a name on a list of soldiers, until historians were able to deduce that he was almost certainly the same person as Briton Hammond who had had such amazing adventures from 1747 to 1760.
Of special interest to those of us who are currently part of First Parish, Briton Nichols would have attended Sunday services right in our historica Meetinghouse. We can imagine him sitting upstairs in the balcony, where people of color and White indentured servants had to sit. We can imagine Briton sitting in that gallery on Sunday, August 24, 1777, a few days before he marched off to Saratoga. We can imagine the prayers of the entire congregation centering on the hope that all nine of the Cohasset men marching off as soldiers that week would return home safe and sound.
We today think of all those from this congregation who have served in the military. We think of all those veterans who are now members and friends of First Parish. We also think of those who grew up in this congregation and went off to join the armed services. And we think of those people from First Parish who died in military service. It is good for us to keep alive the memories of all those who served in our armed forces. It is good to keep those memories alive, because it reminds us of the bonds of love which transcend even death.
(10) Victor Bigelow, Narrative History of Cohasset (1898), p. 308.
(11) An introduction to a narrative by Briton Nichols, who earlier in life was called Briton Hammond, gives an overview of what historians conclude about his life: “It is accepted that in 1762 Hammon married Hannah, an African American woman and member of Plymouth’s First Church, with whom he had one child. For many years this was all that was known of Hammon’s life after his return to New England. More recent research, however, has revealed that Hammon probably changed his name to Nichols some time in the late 1770s, after the family with whom he and his master were living when Winslow died in 1774. Briton Nichols is listed as having fought for the Continental Army in the American Revolutionary War, as did many members of the white Nichols family…. In later census records, Briton Nichols is described as a free husband and father.” Derrick R. Spires, editor, Only by Experience: An Anthology of Slave Narratives (Broadview Press, 2023), p. 54.
(12) In this paragraph, the details of the earlier life of Briton Nichols/Hammond are taken from his book, A Narrative of the Uncommon Sufferings, and Surprizing Deliverance of Briton Hammon, A Negro Man (Boston: Green & Russell, 1760); as reprinted on the Pennsylvanian State Univ. website https://psu.pb.unizin.org/opentransatlanticlit/chapter/__unknown__-9/ accessed 22 May 2025.
(13) Victor Bigelow, p. 208.
(14) Victor Bigelow reprints the text of this brief diary, pp. 299-303.
(15) Entry for Briton Nichols, 19 July 1780, “Massachusetts, Revolutionary War, Index Cards to Muster Rolls, 1775-1783,” FamilySearch.org website https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:QLLS-BBT3 accessed 22 May 2025.
