"Damned Lobsterbacks" and the Boston Massacre

The evening of March 5, 1770 was like any other evening in colonial America...well...almost. As young Private Hugh White of the British Colonial 14th Regiment took his post in front of Boston's custom house, one wonders if he sensed the impending doom that would shortly come. As the evening progressed, young Private White was met by his superior, Captain John Goldfinch, and the two men "exchanged in pleasant conversation." The conversation was to be interrupted, however, by the intrusion of a young local apprentice named Edward Garrick. Garrick accused the soldiers of several misdeeds, all of which were ignored by the British soldiers. Angry that his accusations were being swept aside, Garrick attacked the men through obscenity, calling the British soldiers, "a bunch of damned lobsterbacks." This insult was apparently sufficient provocation to cause Private White to strike Garrick on his head with the stock of his musket.

Upon seeing and hearing this altercation, scores of Boston citizens rallied to defend the young Garrick. As we all know, tensions were high to begin with, and the people of Boston did not need much provocation to start a riot. In literally minutes, the crowd gathered to roughly 300. Seeing the possibility of a riot, Captain Thomas Preston sent reinforcements to help support Private White and the other soldiers present. The crowd had already surrounded white, backing him up all the way to the customs door. As the other British soldiers arrived to help White, several were knocked down by the crowd, which caused the British soldiers to fix bayonets.

As the crowd continued to grow, more and more Bostonians joined in the chorus of obscenity that was directed to the British. Chants of "damned lobsterbelly" and "fight you wretched, damned lobsterbacks" brought the level of tension to its ultimate crescendo. As the snowballs, oysters, and insults continued to be hurled at the British (who were, quite frankly, having a very difficult time getting organized), several soldiers began to point their muskets at the crowd. This new sign of force caused even more snowballs to fly, and harsher insults to be shouted. Seventeen-year-old Samuel Maverick dared the soldiers to do their worst. "Come on and fire you damned lobsterback!" The rest of the crowd also joined in, yelling "Fire, Fire, FIRE!!!"

As we all know (even though the specifics are greatly debated), the British fired into the crowd, striking 11 random people. Young Samuel Maverick was instantly killed, along with four other Bostonians.

In the weeks after the Boston Massacre several of young Samuel Maverick's closest friends decided to join the movement for revolution. Many of them joined the army as soon as possible (most of them were under the age of 16). When asked why he had joined, the young William Greenwood (a friend of Samuel Maverick), stated "to kill those damned lobsterbacks."

But is the legacy of the "lobsterbacks" accurate? Were British soldiers really made fun of in this manner? For the longest time I thought so. I've read and heard numerous stories of how colonial rebels heckled British Red Coats with chants of "lobsterbacks" ever since I was a puny little undergrad. For the longest time I accepted these stories as factual simply because it sounded like something that an 18th century colonist would do. Truth, however, is sometimes not as dramatic

Over at his excellent blog, historian J.L. Bell points out that the phrase "lobsterback" appears to be more the stuff of myth than actual history. Quoting author Christopher Lenny, J.L. Bell points out that:

“Lobsterback” has been repeated so often by historians that the term has taken on a life of its own. I learned it in school, and if you Google it you’ll find it still is a standard Revolutionary War vocabulary word. But is it really a Revolutionary-era taunt?

If you go to the standard references, such as the Oxford English Dictionary, you find that “lobster” has been used since 1643 as a slang term for English soldiers, originally said of Roundhead cuirassiers on account of their armor, not the color of their uniforms. Later it was transferred to other British soldiers with red uniforms.

“Lobsterback” is not in the OED, Webster’s Second, The Century Dictionary and Cyclopedia, The Dictionary of American English, or The Dictionary of Americanisms. It is in Webster’s Third (1961).

Partridge’s Dictionary of Slang and Unconventional English lists the first example of “lobster-back” in 1822, and says it is a variant on “lobster (soldier).” The Random House Historical Dictionary of American Slang lists the first example as “lobster-backed” in 1809 in a non-North American source, and gives the first American usage as Crockett’s Almanac in 1840 (You can read Mr. Bell's entire post by clicking here).

So it looks like British soldiers may not have been provoked over the heckles of "lobsterback" after all. With that said, we can still rest assured that colonists were probably less-than-civil on the night of the Boston "Massacre" regardless of whether or not "lobsterback" was a part of their repertoire.

The "Legend" of Paul Revere

"Listen my children and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year."

These opening lines to Henry Longfellow's epic poem "Paul Revere's Ride" have been recited countless times in classrooms across this country. In fact, most Americans only know of Paul Revere thanks to Longfellow’s 1860 poem, which was written almost 100 years after the actual event. Within the historical community, however, Revere's now famous ride has fallen under scrutiny. Was it really as dramatic and eventful as Longfellow's now infamous poem depicts? Or is Revere's "ride" more along the lines of George Washington chopping down the cherry tree and an invisible treasure map existing on the back of the Declaration of Independence?

First off, we can all rest assured that Paul Revere never shouted, "the British are coming." To have done so would have destroyed the secrecy that was needed for the mission. British soldiers were afoot everywhere, with the intent of stopping riders like Revere. We can also be certain that Paul Revere was not alone on April 18, 1775. After receiving his initial instructions from Dr. Joseph Warren to warn John Hancock and Samuel Adams of the impending doom, perhaps as many as fifty other riders were caught up in the excitement of the moment and set out to warn the countryside. In addition, Revere was also instructed by Dr. Warren to gather intelligence on the strength of the British army, where others would signal by lamp light the direction the British army was heading (remember "one if by land, two if by sea?"). Here's Paul Revere's initial account of that evening:

I was sent for by Docr. Joseph Warren about 10 oClock that evening, and desired, “to go to Lexington and inform Mr. Samuel Adams, and the Hon. John Hancock Esqr. that there was a number of Soldiers composed of the Light troops and Grenadiers marching to the bottom of the common, where was a number Boats to receive them, and it was supposed, that they were going to Lexington, by the way of Watertown to take them, Mess. Adams and Hancock or to Concord."

And though Revere was not alone on his "ride", and despite the fact that things were not as poetic as Longfellow makes them seem, Revere's mission was far from simple. In fact, Revere faced danger on more than one occasion. Revere evaded a Royal Navy blockade, avoided being shot by British scouts, escaped capture at Charlestown and was eventually caught in Lincoln. Revere's horse was confiscated and he was forced to march back to town at gunpoint. In fact, Revere was never able to warn Samuel Adams or John Hancock that the "British were coming." Fortunately both men were warned by other riders of the impending danger that was approaching, as was the militia, which prepared for the infamous Battle of Lexington and Concord.

To be certain, Revere was an important figure inside Boston's revolutionary underground. He had been entrusted (along with many others) to carry out important assignments that were critical during the early years of Boston's rebellion. In fact, one of the most important things Revere ever did (and he's almost never remembered for it) was to create the all-important engraving of the "Boston Massacre", which Samuel Adams yielded as a powerful propaganda sword that pierced the heart of many fellow Bostonians. And yes, Revere's depiction of the Boston Massacre was every bit as over-dramatic as was Longfellow's infamous Paul Revere poem.

Thanks in large part to his devotion to the "cause of liberty," Revere was a welcomed member of several influential organizations within Boston, most notably the Masonic Lodge in Boston where he rubbed elbows with other key players in America's quest for independence. As a result, Revere's name became synonymous with bravery and devotion. And though his role was really no different than the other nameless, faceless "riders," Revere's legacy has stood out. It's no wonder why Longfellow would seize his story as the one to embellish through poetry. And though his now infamous ride may be entwined with legend and folklore, Paul Revere's involvement in the early years of Boston's revolutionary fervor are both influential and worthy of further study.