Log In


Reset Password
  • MENU
    Local News
    Friday, May 03, 2024

    Keeping history on the front burner

    The Anna Warner Bailey House in Groton celebrates one of the leading ladies of the Revolutionary War era who also played a role in the War of 1812. During the latter conflict, Mrs. Bailey offered her flannel petticoat to officers manning nearby Fort Griswold who needed the material for their cannons facing the Thames River to ward off the British.

    Many years ago, rock’n’roll icon Sam Cooke came out with a popular tune that included the words “Don’t know much about history.”

    And in the latter part of the 20th century, a controversial best seller written by Kenneth C. Davis was published with that same title, amplifying such a sardonic theme.

    Titles, of course, cannot be copyrighted, nor can a message that’s done satirically (or seriously) hold exclusive rights. A message in itself endures and spreads unless something significant happens to change it.

    As for “Don’t know much about history,” is there truth in this particular message? If you ask Groton town historian Jim Streeter or you speak with Joan Cohn, former longtime president of the Indian & Colonial Research Center in Old Mystic, you’ll get answers they both feel the public desperately needs to hear.

    “You walk through too many sections of town now and see that far too much of our history has either crumbled into ruins or it’s disappeared entirely,” said Streeter during a recent interview at the Avery Copp House on Thames Street in Groton, right down the road from one of that city’s last remnants of a proud past.

    It is in memory of this onetime, revered old dwelling, the Anna Warner Bailey House — and the daring woman who lived there, while burning her name into the annals of history — that a new restoration movement has been launched.

    “Anna Warner Bailey was one of this region’s true Revolutionary War heroes who went on to demonstrate further heroics during the War of 1812,” said Cohn. “Our chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution is named after her, and she lived in the very house we are trying to preserve.” Cohn’s quiet passion for the sanctity of New England’s history is every bit as intense as the vibrant passion Steeter exudes.

    Both are driven in their commitment to honor and memorialize the heritage of those who pioneered our history, as well as archaeological wonders like the “Mother Bailey House.” They see them as the last bastions of physical evidence from a time rich in New England’s history.

    These two dedicated historians are not alone. A veritable army has been mobilized and now works vigorously to restore for the public this historical gem out of America’s past. A corps of dedicated volunteers—which includes public officials, businesses, residents, historians and other civic-minded citizens — is too vast to list here and all are too significant to be omitted. A forthcoming website will reveal the names of these intrepid preservationists who care so deeply for our heritage and seek to restore it for the benefit of current and future generations.

    The proposed plan — still in development — includes an impressive layout of a potential historic museum and how the public will benefit from it.

    In past years, historical landmarks like the Mother Bailey House basked in the unbridled support of prominent researchers like the late Groton town historian Carol Kimball, who wrote volumes on New England heritage. And yes, Mrs. Kimball would most certainly have been at the fore of this latest worthy movement, not only in the interest of public appreciation for its past, but to honor the achievements — the moments of both triumph and despair — that built our country.

    If the proposed visiting center and museum concept comes to pass, the public would be granted the adventuresome delight of exploring and reliving the venerable roots of our vaunted Colonial past. Anna Warner Bailey — via documents, pictures, priceless mementos, and perhaps even role players — would take us on a veritable tour of those noteworthy and dynamic times herself.

    Her onetime home on 108 Thames St. is a walk from the famous Fort Griswold where a fierce battle between Colonial forces and the British was fought.

    In speaking to us, this brave heroine of our war for independence would tell us of that harrowing time in her youth when her uncle did not return home from the brutal battle at nearby Fort Griswold. She would recount for us how she marched down a beaten roadpath — now Route 184 in Groton — and spent time tending to the wounded while seeking out her uncle whom she eventually found there dying.

    Anna would explain how she boldly hustled back through the same battle carnage and returned with her uncle’s wife and child so they could see him one last time.

    Anna Warner Bailey — for whom a street in Groton was also named (Warner Street) — performed similar heroics years later during the War of 1812, this time gaining national attention and later on the favor of such notable figures as presidents James Monroe and Andrew Jackson.

    In this instance, the commanding officer of Fort Griswold was in dire need of flannel for “wadding” the cannons there. Mrs. Bailey removed her own flannel petticoat and proclaimed to the fort commander that it should suffice for their wadding needs.

    This unique improvisational gesture on her part gained Anna Warner Bailey national acclaim as a valiant patriot, and would be re-enacted many times for visitors when her home also came to serve as a village tavern.

    Such are the gems of our Colonial past we can ill afford to lose. The spirit of this remarkable woman out of early New England’s colorful past would roil in angst, and so would the ghosts of all that is contained within the now crumbling walls of that cherished home on Thames Street, should such gems be lost in the ashes of demolition — or altered for purposes other than that of historical significance.

    Streeter, the Groton historian, said it best: “You can read about history, hear about it, or you can actually touch it. But once gone, it’s gone forever. We cannot throw away our history.”

    Comment threads are monitored for 48 hours after publication and then closed.