If Groton and New London held fireworks over the Thames River in 1770 like we do today, I’m pretty sure Colonel William Ledyard would not have enjoyed them as we do.

Fireworks would have been too painful for the Colonel.

History often forgets that before Colonel Ledyard was violently skewered by the British on Fort Griswold in 1781, he came from a large family of 10 in Groton, and the Colonel and his wife, Anne Williams of Stonington, added nine children themselves to the extended Ledyard family.

There are many stories emanating from the Ledyard family, one of which involves the untimely and tragic death of the Colonel’s younger brother, Dr. Nathaniel Ledyard, born at the family home in Groton on Thames Street, close to where the Avery-Copp House Museum sits today.

Nathaniel was 7 and William 9 when the Ledyards lost their mother in 1747. Father John lost no time in marrying the widow Mary Austin Ellery of Hartford that same year. Several years later, John moved to Hartford, Mary’s hometown, where he served in the General Assembly.

Nathaniel followed his father to Hartford in the mid-1750s and became a physician.

After Parliament enacted the notorious Stamp Act in March 1765, American merchants, including William and Ebenezer Ledyard, suffered greatly, as the act threatened to put all of them out of business.

So, after more than a year of disruption and protest, America was overjoyed when Parliament finally repealed the hated Stamp Act in spring of 1766.

The Connecticut Courant announced: “Last Monday Evening, the long expected joyful News of the total Repeal of the Stamp Act, arrived in Town,” whereupon the “General Assembly of this Colony, now setting here, appointed the Friday following as a Day of general Rejoicing.”

The colonies exploded in celebration. The Courant noted that “Joy smil’d in every Face; and universal Gladness diffus’d itself thro’ all Ranks and Degrees.” Across the land, bells were rung, ships flew their colors, fireworks flew, and cannon were discharged to announce the event.

Hartford was preparing for a big celebration when the Courant tragically reported “But sudden was the Transition from the Height of Joy, to extreme Sorrow!” A cask of gunpowder had been carried to the schoolhouse on Main Street where a group of men, including Dr. Nathaniel Ledyard, gathered to construct fireworks for the populace to enjoy. Unknown to the group, the delivery had left a trail of powder through the streets. This caught the attention of curious young boys, who “undesignedly and unnotic’d set Fire to the scatter’d Powder, which was soon communicated to that within Doors, and in an instant reduced the Building to a Heap of Rubbish,” burying all “Persons in its Ruins.”

Three men died immediately, and 17 were wounded in various degrees. Doctor Nathaniel Ledyard “had one of his Thighs broke.” A broken thighbone, particularly in colonial days, could cause any number of problems, from infection to a pulmonary embolism, or blood clot, that can travel fatally to the lungs.

Teri Shiel, Hartford Medical Society Librarian, has a master’s degree in 19th century American history, and has studied the history of medicine. She is inclined to think Nathaniel likely died from an infection or blood clot, considering the limited medical options and primitive practices of the day.

Nathaniel Ledyard died shortly after the explosion, on June 1, 1766, at age 25. William Ledyard, the future Colonel, was just two years older at the time.

Dr. Ledyard was laid to rest in the Ancient Burying Ground in Hartford, where the Ledyards, now interwoven with the Ellery family, and headed by the wealthy and influential John Ledyard, were part of the capital city’s aristocracy.

Nathaniel’s tombstone epitaph relates his plight:

“Just when delivered from her boding fears,

My cheerful country wiped away her tears,

Materials wrought the public joys to aid,

With dire explosion snapp’d my vital thread;

And life’s rich zest, the bliss of being free,

Prov’d the sad cause of bitter death to me.”

While the Colonel’s children would have enjoyed fireworks over the Thames River, he and wife Anne would surely be saddened by memories of brother Nathaniel.

John Steward lives in Waterford. He can be reached at tossinglines@gmail.com.