Paul Misencik's "The Original American Spies"
Here's my review of Paul Misencik's amazing new book, "The Original American Spies." It ran in the Stars and Stripes on Feb. 7, 2014.
In the last couple of years politicians have been talking a lot about our founding fathers and aligning themselves with their immutable purity of purpose and character. Of course, this causes red flags to go up because for one thing no one can know the motives or intents of people two hundred years dead no matter how many documents they’ve left behind. Anyone who’s been judged on a document or recording taken out of context knows how flabbergasting that is. Intent and purpose are nuanced things. Take away the moral, economic and social landscape and all that’s left is a faded two tone picture. And nothing lies like a photo. The other thing is this: What we learn in school about the early days of our country is distilled down to a belief in America’s inevitability and an exasperated disbelief that anyone would oppose our destiny. Basic American history books are a bloodless chronicle of good guys, bad guys and boisterous pronouncements. I always want to shake these history books to see if any humanity tumbles out.
With this background, I found it refreshing to read Paul R. Misencik’s new book, Original American Spies, Seven Covert Agents of the American Revolutionary War. Misencik uses lavish detail taken from extensive research to highlight the clandestine activities of seven Revolutionary War spies and puts them in the context of their times, their personal lives, and the larger war they operated in. The result is experiencing the Revolutionary War from the ground level and in real time.
It was a long war—1775-1783—and Misencik does a fine job of showing just what that meant: you had to declare your allegiance as either a Whig (American sympathizer) or a Tory (British sympathizer). Tory sympathies would get you much needed business, but it would earn you the wrath of the American mob or sabotage by rebel groups such as the Sons of Liberty. You needed passes to travel through occupied territory—and all territory was occupied by either the Americans or British—to get simple supplies like a bag of flour, and you had to live with the constant suspicions and paranoia that no one was who they said they were. Living in 2014, it’s hard to imagine not having the freedom to espouse your political beliefs, but that’s what it was like in 1775 when the war started.
There weren’t a lot of volunteers for spy duty and Washington had to appeal to patriotism rather than the romance of being a colonial James Bond. And being a spy in the Revolutionary War required specific talents that might seem quaint in the age of drones and cloud computing. For example, the spy had to be physically strong and had to have a good memory as anything written down would be used as evidence against him or her, and, as the unnegotiable punishment for spying was death by hanging, the spy had to possess a large dose of courage.
Misencik tells the story of Lydia Barrington Darragh, a female spy whose large house in Philadelphia was requisitioned by the British for meetings. She realized soon that, as a woman, she was invisible to the British and she could go in and out of these meetings unnoticed except for requests for refreshments. Darragh didn’t start out wanting to spy, but she seized her advantage and found ways to send all her intelligence to General Washington. Most noteworthy was the intelligence that British General Howe intended to surprise the Americans at Whitemarsh and because of Darragh’s stealth and fast action, Howe met a well prepared army and retreated.
Misencik makes the point repeatedly that spying was not an honorable occupation and after the war many spies chose to keep their wartime spying activity to themselves, even if it meant financial ruin. This was the case for James Rivington, a publisher who loudly ridiculed the American independence movement and its leaders in his newspapers during the war even while extracting military intelligence from British officers and feeding it to the Americans. After the war, he spent time in debtor’s prison, rather than expose his secret role supporting the Americans— and thus jeopardize other family members who were on British pensions.
To me, the most interesting theme of Original American Spies was that the Americans and the British lived intertwined lives. Lydia Barrington Darragh, for example, had easy access not just because of her sex, but because her second cousin was serving as an aide to General Howe and appearing with her cousin gave her unspoken approval as a trustworthy hostess. Another female spy, Ann Bates—who spied for the British—had a husband who was a low-ranking infantryman in the British Army but received papers to pass into General Washington’s camp which were signed by Benedict Arnold. There was a lot of fluidity in family and patriotic alliances which would be hard to untangle even after the war was over. Although I think enough time has passed so we can forgive the British.
Paul R. Misencik is the author of two books besides Original American Spies (all published by McFarland): George Washington and the Half-King Chief Tanacharison: An Alliance that Began the French and Indian War, and Washington’s Teenage Spy: Sally Townsend of Oyster Bay due out later this year. He is a former international airline captain and is presently the Chief of the Operational Factors Division of the U. S. National Transportation Safety Board. He is a member of the First Virginia Regiment of the Continental Line, living history foundation. He lives in Reston, Virginia.
In the last couple of years politicians have been talking a lot about our founding fathers and aligning themselves with their immutable purity of purpose and character. Of course, this causes red flags to go up because for one thing no one can know the motives or intents of people two hundred years dead no matter how many documents they’ve left behind. Anyone who’s been judged on a document or recording taken out of context knows how flabbergasting that is. Intent and purpose are nuanced things. Take away the moral, economic and social landscape and all that’s left is a faded two tone picture. And nothing lies like a photo. The other thing is this: What we learn in school about the early days of our country is distilled down to a belief in America’s inevitability and an exasperated disbelief that anyone would oppose our destiny. Basic American history books are a bloodless chronicle of good guys, bad guys and boisterous pronouncements. I always want to shake these history books to see if any humanity tumbles out.
With this background, I found it refreshing to read Paul R. Misencik’s new book, Original American Spies, Seven Covert Agents of the American Revolutionary War. Misencik uses lavish detail taken from extensive research to highlight the clandestine activities of seven Revolutionary War spies and puts them in the context of their times, their personal lives, and the larger war they operated in. The result is experiencing the Revolutionary War from the ground level and in real time.
It was a long war—1775-1783—and Misencik does a fine job of showing just what that meant: you had to declare your allegiance as either a Whig (American sympathizer) or a Tory (British sympathizer). Tory sympathies would get you much needed business, but it would earn you the wrath of the American mob or sabotage by rebel groups such as the Sons of Liberty. You needed passes to travel through occupied territory—and all territory was occupied by either the Americans or British—to get simple supplies like a bag of flour, and you had to live with the constant suspicions and paranoia that no one was who they said they were. Living in 2014, it’s hard to imagine not having the freedom to espouse your political beliefs, but that’s what it was like in 1775 when the war started.
There weren’t a lot of volunteers for spy duty and Washington had to appeal to patriotism rather than the romance of being a colonial James Bond. And being a spy in the Revolutionary War required specific talents that might seem quaint in the age of drones and cloud computing. For example, the spy had to be physically strong and had to have a good memory as anything written down would be used as evidence against him or her, and, as the unnegotiable punishment for spying was death by hanging, the spy had to possess a large dose of courage.
Misencik tells the story of Lydia Barrington Darragh, a female spy whose large house in Philadelphia was requisitioned by the British for meetings. She realized soon that, as a woman, she was invisible to the British and she could go in and out of these meetings unnoticed except for requests for refreshments. Darragh didn’t start out wanting to spy, but she seized her advantage and found ways to send all her intelligence to General Washington. Most noteworthy was the intelligence that British General Howe intended to surprise the Americans at Whitemarsh and because of Darragh’s stealth and fast action, Howe met a well prepared army and retreated.
Misencik makes the point repeatedly that spying was not an honorable occupation and after the war many spies chose to keep their wartime spying activity to themselves, even if it meant financial ruin. This was the case for James Rivington, a publisher who loudly ridiculed the American independence movement and its leaders in his newspapers during the war even while extracting military intelligence from British officers and feeding it to the Americans. After the war, he spent time in debtor’s prison, rather than expose his secret role supporting the Americans— and thus jeopardize other family members who were on British pensions.
To me, the most interesting theme of Original American Spies was that the Americans and the British lived intertwined lives. Lydia Barrington Darragh, for example, had easy access not just because of her sex, but because her second cousin was serving as an aide to General Howe and appearing with her cousin gave her unspoken approval as a trustworthy hostess. Another female spy, Ann Bates—who spied for the British—had a husband who was a low-ranking infantryman in the British Army but received papers to pass into General Washington’s camp which were signed by Benedict Arnold. There was a lot of fluidity in family and patriotic alliances which would be hard to untangle even after the war was over. Although I think enough time has passed so we can forgive the British.
Paul R. Misencik is the author of two books besides Original American Spies (all published by McFarland): George Washington and the Half-King Chief Tanacharison: An Alliance that Began the French and Indian War, and Washington’s Teenage Spy: Sally Townsend of Oyster Bay due out later this year. He is a former international airline captain and is presently the Chief of the Operational Factors Division of the U. S. National Transportation Safety Board. He is a member of the First Virginia Regiment of the Continental Line, living history foundation. He lives in Reston, Virginia.
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