Chatham At War: The Town’s Role In The American Revolution

CHATHAM – If those who fought British troops in Lexington and Concord were called the Minutemen, their peers in Chatham might have been labeled the Four-Day Men. Not because they were sloths who would rather lie on their couches than rush into battle, but because it would have taken them a full four days to respond to a British threat in Boston and environs.

Also, they weren’t necessarily as fervently anti-British as the Minutemen. And some of them weren’t even men — just teens barely big enough to carry a musket. 

Like much of history, the story of the American Revolution is more complicated and nuanced than we learned in secondary school. It’s also hard, 250 years later, to picture the severe communications, transportation and economic constraints affecting Chatham’s residents. But examining how the town coped during the war can give us some appreciation for the sacrifices they made.

Today, we can hear news from the other side of the world in a matter of seconds. Those living on Cape Cod likely didn’t learn of the Lexington and Concord fighting for at least a full day. That news arrived via a rider on horseback — Paul Revere style — rushing headlong across the sandy soil on whatever primitive roadways were available. Had they been asked, Chatham’s fighters wouldn’t have been able to scurry back to support their compatriots so quickly. Most didn’t own horses, so they’d have to travel by foot. Hence the Four-Day Men.

In truth, those leading the American Revolution likely weren’t expecting much military aid from Chathamites. The community was remote and too small to even qualify as a township until 1712. The residents adopted the name of an English town that operated as a naval station, hoping that their location, too, could eventually assume such a role. 

While colonial Chatham had nautical importance, it had no military presence. The 929 residents living in Chatham in 1776 had small boats to scoop up cod, mackerel, and shellfish close to shore, as well 27 schooners — larger, decked vessels — for fishing in the deeper waters of Georges Bank and Nova Scotia. Bostonians felt the presence of King George’s rule in the form of Redcoats living among them. Chatham’s fishermen had the British Navy — the world’s most powerful — hemming them in. The fishermen weren’t exactly itching for a confrontation with warships laden with cannons.

In fact, in 1774 when the Provincial Congress passed a resolution to stop drinking British tea, the town of Chatham didn’t formally agree to the boycott. Like much of the rest of the colonies, Cape Cod had loyalists who opposed independence due to economic ties to England, as well as fervent patriots who were not afraid to use violence against Americans who supported British rule. 

For many on the Cape, neutrality seemed like the best option — until the British forced their hand. As the war heated up, the navy started grabbing property and arms belonging to the colonists and recruited freelance boaters, called privateers, to do the same. The colonists soon returned the favor, absconding with smaller British or loyalist vessels, but usually came out on the losing end.

In the midst of all this, Chatham organized its local military, naming Lt. Benjamin Godfrey as its leader. The town dedicated a total of 32 pounds — about the equivalent of $5,000 today — to pay men to enlist. Roughly 50 did so, earning a one-time payment of roughly $10 for their service. In time, that amount was more than Chatham could afford, and soldiers were compensated not with money but with grain. Toward the end of the war, not even grain could be provided.

While incentives declined, patriotism increased as the war went on. Records show among the enlistees in 1780 were three boys, ages 16 and 17, who were all of five feet four, as well as another 16-year-old who was a mere five foot one. One boy of 15 later confessed that he enlisted by wearing a man’s clothes and stuffing his shoes to appear large enough to fight. 

The men (and boys) from Chatham helped the cause by joining regiments in various parts of New England, even if it took days to reach them. One June morning, they didn’t have to travel far. The war came to them.

An observer saw a British flag being hoisted atop one of the town’s larger fishing boats in Chatham Harbor. After an alarm gun was fired, Chatham’s fighters gathered on a hill across from the harbor (near today’s Chatham Lighthouse). Realizing that British privateers were trying to abscond with the larger boat and two small ones, Lt. Benjamin Godfrey led a charge to the beachfront. They opened fire from the shore, then hopped into boats to continue the assault. Although the would-be thieves escaped, Godfrey and his company recovered all their vessels. 

Shortly thereafter, a large British cruiser was spotted near the harbor. Again, a small boat tried to slip into the harbor to nab vessels belonging to the Chatham residents. From the shore, Godfrey’s crew lobbed cannonballs at the approaching boat, and the British retreated emptyhanded.

The fighting was immortalized (of sorts) as “The Battle of Chatham Harbor,” but can’t be said to have substantially helped the American cause. The skirmishes took place in June 1782 — more than nine months after General Cornwallis had surrendered his troops to General Washington at Yorktown.

For the national leaders of America and Britain, the war had all but ended well before that summer conflict. For Godfrey and his crew, there was no choice but to fight. The dozens of fishing vessels they had at the beginning of the war had been stolen or destroyed. They had perhaps five left. Losing yet more boats would have threatened their survival.

After the war, the town gradually rebuilt itself, growing its population, creating schools and establishing its own post office. Godfrey’s most visible contribution came in 1797 when he built a windmill to grind flour — the substance that at one point the town couldn’t even afford to pay its enlistees for their service. The windmill stands today in Chase Park. 

Chatham lacks the prominent historical markers of other Revolutionary War locations — no North Bridge, no Minuteman statue. A plaque in Chase Park lists the families whose members fought in the war. A smaller, more modest one recognizing The Battle of Chatham Harbor lies inconspicuously on the north end of the parking lot across from the Chatham lighthouse. 

Inscribed on it are these words: “Victory belongs to the determined, long-suffering townspeople.”