By: Andrew Lucibella, Public History

You may think you already know all there is to know about Lexington, Massachusetts. Most people do. Throughout my internship with the Lexington Historical Society, I have been working to uncover stories that will change that perspective. Lexington’s claim to fame is well known. With the destination of Paul Revere’s ride (and William Dawes’s not-so-famous ride) and the site of the Revolution’s first bloodshed, histories of Lexington usually begin in 1775, and tell the triumphant story of a patriot town wholeheartedly dedicated to the revolutionary values with which we are all so familiar. Lurking beneath the surface, though, are important stories that complicate this narrative.

The plaque outside of LHS’s Buckman Tavern honoring Prince Estabrook. The plaque was dedicated in 2008 and features the image of reenactor Charles Price.
Courtesy of Lexington Historical Society.

What most people do not know about Lexington is that when shots rang out on April 19, 1775, and the town’s legacy was solidified, six enslaved people, and at least one indentured servant of color resided in the town. This number represents a sharp decrease from the two dozen enslaved people who were enumerated in the Massachusetts slaves census of 1754, but these six individuals were nonetheless listed as property among horses, sheep, cows, oxen, and swine on tax valuations from 1775. At least one slave, Prince Estabrook, was wounded in the fighting early that morning, while Eli Burdoo, a black indentured servant and Silas Burdoo, a free man of color and Eli’s cousin also participated in the events on Battle Road. One of the main goals of my internship has been to piece together the stories of these men’s lives and those of other residents of color, in order to present them to the public to both challenge the common narrative surrounding the town, and to paint a more complete picture about revolutionary Lexington. Slavery has a long history in the town of Lexington, but that history has gone largely untold to the public in the society’s interpretation of their historic homes, despite the presence of enslaved people living and working in at least one of these homes. My project seeks to help correct this hole in interpretation.

I am very fortunate to be working with an organization that is extremely dedicated to seeing this project through. As more and more small historical sites and societies—especially in the North—begin to confront their associations with slavery, it will inevitably foster tough conversations and force museum staff to be prepared for difficult questions. Lexington is definitely ready for these challenges. Each new staff member I encounter, from retired volunteer greeters all the way up to the Executive Director tell me how excited they are about the research I am doing and how they can’t wait until my research finds its way into the society’s interpretation of the houses. These have been encouraging conversations, as Lexington has been laying the groundwork for a project like this for a while through public talks and research consultations, but now museum staff and residents alike truly ready to confront the realities of their difficult past.

These findings though, have not come easily. A major challenge of this internship has been locating and mining primary sources. I have scoured tax records, vital records, and muster rolls, which have been very helpful in determining numbers of enslaved individuals, their baptism and death dates, and military service, but this information largely amounts to statistics, and many of these records are incomplete. Further, no period sources go into any narrative detail about people of color in the town, and certainly no sources from the period come from people of color themselves. This makes it exceedingly difficult to do justice to their stories, as it often involves relying on white-written secondary sources and filling in major gaps in timeline with educated conjecture. One exception is Silas Burdoo, who, in applying for a federal pension almost fifty years after the Battle of Lexington, outlined his military service in great detail. This discovery has been of major importance to my project as it is the only surviving first person account from a person of color.

The exterior of the Hancock-Clarke House, home of Reverend John Hancock (grandfather of declaration signer John Hancock). This home was the destination of Paul Revere’s ride in 1775, but had also been home to two enslaved people, Jack and Dinah, in the mid-eighteenth century. Courtesy Lexington Historical Society.

It has also been incredibly enlightening to observe the day-to-day challenges of working at a small historical society. I have worked closest with the Education and Interpretation Manager as well as the Collections Manager, and have found that their tasks go far beyond what their titles suggest. I have seen them dress in full beekeeping suits to remove a bees’ nest from an attic, work hands-on with HVAC workers to fix a critical heating issue in their archives space, and spend months harassing their phone company to fix phone issues in their main visitors’ center. All this while developing and leading school programs, overseeing a move of their historical archives, and managing their committees of staff members and volunteers. These observations have revealed the high level of adaptability and multitasking required of staff at historical societies, but have also shown me that there is never a dull moment. This is the type of work and work environment that I am excited to embrace in the future. I am excited to continue important historical work, but why not spice things up every once in a while by throwing on a beekeeping suit or fixing a furnace? There are unique challenges both historically and professionally in working at a small historical society, but these are challenges I feel prepared to confront as a result of my internship with Lexington Historical Society.