Last month we briefly met Silas Burrows, whose mansion on Oral School Road became the Mystic Oral School after his death. He was born in Old Mystic but called New York, San Francisco, Montevideo and Hong Kong home. He rubbed elbows with international power-brokers and tried throughout his life to represent the young United States in the best possible light.

Silas’ adventures began in 1817 at a celebratory dinner party on Cannon Square in Stonington. The guest of honor, James Monroe, was in Connecticut to assess the condition of coastal defenses and to meet the heroes of the Battle of 1814. Silas, who’d run munitions during the battle, was introduced to the president. Although neither knew it at the time, it was the beginning of a life-long friendship that would end with Silas’ vigil at Monroe’s deathbed.

A year after their first meeting, Silas was in Stockholm at Monroe’s request, carrying a commercial treaty to the American ambassador there. After spending a month in Sweden, he visited Copenhagen, Paris and Riga; he wanted to see St. Petersburg too, but brutal winter conditions drove him back. Silas, who was only 23 years old, probably thought this trip would be the high point of his entire life, but there was more excitement ahead!

Born into a prosperous family, Silas became a successful merchant operating out of New York and Hong Kong. He owned his own shipyard in Groton and financed work by other Mystic shipbuilders. He established a packet line between New York City and Cartagena, followed a few years later with another line between San Francisco and Pacific ports.

Silas was a very wealthy man, but all fortunes tend to rise and fall. In 1830 he was nearly ruined when, in an act of impulsive generosity, he rescued the passengers of a Russian ship that had been wrecked off the United States, refitted the vessel at his own expense (an amount equivalent to several million dollars today) and returned it to the tsar. The Russian government never reimbursed Silas and he was forced to go to sea to rebuild his assets.

Despite the lack of material gratitude, Silas was fascinated by Russia and was instrumental in installing that country’s first telegraph line. Even though money might have been more appreciated, the tsar gave Silas a large portrait of himself. Apparently Silas wasn’t thrilled because he gave the painting away; it now resides in the Connecticut Historical Society in Hartford.

Silas was very involved in the international struggles of his day. He was a close friend and supporter of Simon Bolivar, who liberated Colombia and Venezuela from the Spanish. Silas and his son ran supplies for Giuseppe Garibaldi, the Italian nationalist, who was in Uruguay fighting for that country’s freedom. He offered two of his brigs to Greek revolutionaries who were fighting for independence from the Ottoman Empire. The only thing Silas seems to have liked better than under-dogs was the opportunity to help them!

Silas supported other worthy causes. He helped James Monroe avert a personal financial crisis that could have caused the former president to lose his home. When Silas learned that George Washington’s mother’s gravestone was in terrible condition, he donated $10,000 toward an obelisk to replace it. President Andrew Jackson joined Silas at the ceremony when the cornerstone was laid.

Silas’ generosity wasn’t limited to celebrities. A provision in his will established a fund to aid Groton residents who were “honest, industrious, temperate people struggling against adversity.”

In another example, back in 1854 Silas had sailed his yacht into Tokyo Bay, bringing home a Japanese sailor who’d been shipwrecked off San Francisco and whom he’d befriended. A throng of appreciative Japanese greeted their countryman’s benefactor with shouts of “Good American! Good American!”

As a summary of Silas’ life, that seems to say it all.

Carol Sommer of Waterford is a self-proclaimed history nut. She writes a monthly history column inspired by local street signs.