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32 JANUARY 2018 I LIC COURIER I www.qns.com
This image adapted from an invitation to the
Long Island City Athletics 33rd Annual Masque Ball, 1909.
Legends
“The Honors of War”
BY GREATER ASTORIA
HISTORICAL SOCIETY
On a small hill in Hellgate, behind
the Hallett Barn and overlooking
the cove, Rev. Josiah Bloomer,
pastor of St. James Church opened his
copy of the Book of Common Prayer. A
Liturgy of the Dead was about to begin.
The event was noteworthy enough to
be mentioned in the New-York Gazette.
He was Lieutenant William Barry,
likely a younger son from minor Irish
Protestant gentry. In the tradition of
‘Wild Geese,’ as young Irish soldiers were
called, he exchanged slim opportunities
at home to become a soldier of fortune.
Prior to the Revolution, he fought for
the Prussian Army - until his resigned
in 1778 to try his luck in the American
War for Independence.
Upon arriving in the Britain’s rebellious
colonies, he served briefly as a lieutenant in
the Kings Orange Rangers, then as captain
In the Volunteers of Ireland. Here Barry
saw the grit of war: he was present dur-ing
the Expedition to Portsmouth, Virginia
(1779), when British General Cornwallis
looted the colony of supplies destined
for Washington’s Army, and the Siege
of Charleston (1780) in which the gates
to the south were opened to the British
in the worst American defeat of the war.
Barry seemed to chart his own nar-rative
- whimsically disappearing during
the Portsmouth operation only to reap-pear
without horse and equipment. His
antics must have continued, for during
the Charleston siege, papers were filed
seeking a court martial. Barry issued
countercharges claiming lack of pay
(nearly $80,000 in today’s currency).
He was found guilty of some charges.
Facing reprimand, he quit the service.
A year later, in 1781, with the war
in its sixth year, the British knew that
stalemate was a road to defeat. War-fare
voraciously consumed cash, former
enemies eyed opportunities to pluck
pieces of the Empire, and the locals,
rebel and loyalist alike, were chafing
under the heel of an occupying army that
left a growing trail of angry farmers with
crops confiscated, merchants with goods
pilfered, and fathers with daughters of
uncertain virtue.
The British High Command drafted an
impressive array of 70 provincial units - but
it was only a paper army. Barry, as a newly
minted lieutenant with the Royal Foresters,
was not taken back out of leniency, but of
desperation. His unit, with only 50 men,
prompted their commanding officer, Lt. Col.
Connolly, to travel to Virginia in an attempt
to muster more recruits. Their colonel’s
absence must have provided the perfect
environment for Barry. Idle soldiers, with
plenty of cash and time, are a recipe for
mischief. There is little doubt Barry was
the most popular fellow in camp.
It must have been a shock that Barry
caught a chill in the early days of autumn
and died suddenly – perhaps at the time
news arrived that commanding officer
Connolly, along with the British army in Vir-ginia,
were prisoners of Washington and
the French at Yorktown. Within months
they knew that Washington would be
back to New York, ready for the final
battle. Although the treaty would not be
signed for two years, the war was over.
A small knot of men stood in a circle,
at the Hellgate, wigs powdered, heads
bowed, resplendent in scarlet tunics
and gold braid. But it was their eyes that
would catch our attention, the eyes of
veterans who can never find words to
speak of the bond of brotherhood, and
the random horrors and madness of war
itself. They were not only burying their
friend with “with the honors of war,” but
the dreams of Britain’s rule over the
Thirteen Colonies.
They also left behind in Hallett’s Clove
a mysterious white marble stone. (thanks
to Susan Rahyab for research)
