In his usual thorough manner, Revere analyzed the situation. For starters, the letter was dated the 17th but was sent on the 19th by Jonathan Leonard’s servant, intentionally awaiting a time when both Revere and his son were in Boston. The proposed road “would reduce the value of our Mills & Works to less than one half they cost us; for were it a Common highway it would lead every kind of Creature by our works, and our Stock of Manufactures would not be safe. Besides, the passage way between the house and river is so narrow that a Horse or Ox passing by in the night allways disturbs the family.” In this letter Revere also mentioned some of his future plans for the land the road would occupy. He needed to enlarge his gardens, which were already too small for his family’s needs. He planned to build a new forge building, possibly to replace the destroyed Boston foundry. And finally he expected to build “a large dwelling House” for his workmen. Revere concluded that he had to “improve every inch of ground on that side of the river,” and asked if it was fair to attack two men “who spend more real money in the Town of Canton than any five men in it.” This exchange revealed many elements of Revere’s philosophy, such as the need for privacy and security, his frustration with “every kind of Creature” who might travel public highways, the value of his contributions to the town’s economy, and the respect he deserved as a result. America might have been moving toward a classless society dominated by the “middling” sort, but Revere held old-fashioned values, and at the end of his life felt he had earned certain privileges.69 And perhaps he had. Unlike the water regulation cases, Revere decisively won this battle. His angry protest and defense of his right to develop his own property permanently forestalled the new road construction. Although the water control lawsuits represented a version of a property dispute, a river does not look or act like property. Judges had a hard time believing Leonard’s control of the dam could prove injurious since the same water would eventually arrive at Revere’s stretch of the river. The road through Revere’s land was entirely different. Anyone could understand the intrusion presented by a public highway, and the local government refused to impose this burden upon an unwilling landowner.
Throughout his legal battles over Revere’s use of the river, the key environmental issue was not one of supply or demand, but one of control and competition. Even if the river had a larger volume, the different users would still interfere with each other’s operations by regulating the river flow to suit their own schedules. Revere and his competitors used both technological and legal tools in their attempt to harness this natural power source, and the harsh language and threatening actions taken by both sides leave no doubt about the importance of this issue. The river was a form of property, a natural resource essential for growing industries. The party that lost control would lose its livelihood.
Revere’s transition between the worlds of crafts and industry is more evident during his Canton copper-rolling operations than ever before, as he juxtaposed old and new methods in all aspects of his business. He adopted many managerial advances, such as double entry accounting and billing, credit and cash discount policies, warrantees, using a factor to solicit work and raw materials in distant markets, and quantitatively dividing company assets and ownership via a formal partnership agreement. At the same time he still allowed his laborers many of the privileges of skilled craftsmen, such as control over their time and free board; avoided incorporating or requesting patents; allowed fellow copper rollers access to his techniques and facilities; relied upon verbal agreements with laborers and in important transactions; and continued to conflate his personal sense of honor with the affairs and reputation of his business. Liminality also applied to his technological practices: he moved toward standardization on several of his product lines and increased his use of machinery but still fell short of interchangeable output, partly because of his continuing reliance on skilled labor.
Revere made many choices concerning methods and technologies throughout this period, and moved forward quickly on some issues while hesitating on others. His career illustrates his willingness to adopt new technologies if conditions seemed right, so his decision to remain with older methods either represented ignorance of new possibilities or approval of the status quo. In assessing his choices we must remove value judgments from the classification of new and old techniques. In many cases older practices made more sense and served him better than alternatives we now consider more advanced. For example, his old-fashioned manner of dealing with workers probably averted the labor disputes faced by other manufacturing concerns, and he had little to lose from treating potential competitors as colleagues. Becoming “modern” or “industrial” meant nothing to him; having a dependable workforce, effective technology, and large quantities of high-quality output meant the world.
As he looked back on his life’s work, Revere held a new appreciation of his position in the shop, and in the larger workings of society. Although he continued to support the importance of the mechanical arts he saw his own role, the manager and technical pioneer, as the most essential responsibility.
Skilled laborers knew how to master complicated processes and equipment in order to complete a job, but Revere took on those responsibilities and more. He designed the processes, he purchased the equipment, he hired and trained employees, he sought out sources of business and raw materials, and he coordinated all activity within his shop in order to finish each job, grow the business, and pioneer new product lines. Here lay his true reward, something he considered more valuable than a comfortable income at the end of the working day. Revere’s copper mill allowed him to take on a leadership role in his manufactory and help his community by providing goods that no other American could create. He could be a Patriot once again, and this time he didn’t have to ride a horse.
Conclusion
Shortly before his retirement, Paul Revere wrote “Cantondale,” a poem that extolled the values that guided his life while celebrating his daily routine and rural home. The very existence of this poem tells us something about Revere’s otherwise poorly documented final years. He retained at least some of his earlier views of the societal role and expected behavior of gentlemen, a title he had awarded himself many years earlier, and decided that he now had the leisure, the intellectual capability, and perhaps even the social obligation to share his views with others through verse. As a man of great wit and a lifelong subscriber to numerous periodicals, he undoubtedly respected persuasive writing and occasionally penned formal works such as his historical account of his Midnight Ride, addresses to organizations during his Masonic leadership period, and even his love poem to Miss Rachel Walker on the eve of Revolution. Now, as a soon to be retired manufacturer, he could finally share his philosophical views via some reflective prose.
Revere’s poetic attempt overwhelmingly conveys his great satisfaction with this final stage of his long and eventful life. He begins by setting the stage:
Figure 9.1. Gilbert Stuart (1755–1828), oil on panel portrait Paul Revere, 1813. Gift of Joseph W. Revere, William B. Revere, and Edward H. R. Revere. Photograph © 2010 Museum of Fine Arts, Boston image number 30.782). This oil painting portrays a 78-year-old Paul Revere as a prosperous and alert businessman. The painting was commissioned by Joseph Warren Revere as part of a set, accompanied by a portrait of Rachel Revere, who died later that year. This formal portrait casts Revere as the patriarch of a successful business dynasty, a very different individual from the artisan who had posed for a Copley portrait forty-five years earlier.
Not distant far from Taunton road
In Canton Dale is my abode.
My Cot tho small, my mind’s at ease,
My Better Half, takes pains to please,
Content sitts lolling in her chair
And all my friends find welcome there
When they git home they never fail
To praise the charms of Canton Dale.
Several stanzas follow in a similar vein, laying out some of Revere’s views. He praises the value of hard work
, friends, and peaceful repose, and even seems to contradict himself by praising exercise (“I exercise prefer to wealth”) before describing how he loves to recline in his cot. After attacking cheats and flattery and lauding wise and generous men, he describes at some length his daily schedule, befitting a manufacturer operating amid the symbols of rural life:
Around my Cot, at break of day,
The robin pipe’s his artless lay;
The yellow-Bird, with pleasing note,
Sings sweet, and trills his little throat.
Near to my Couch, congenial guest,
The Wren has wove Her mosey Nest,
Her hopes in safe repose to dwell,
Nor ought suspects the silvian dell.
At early morn I take my round,
Invited first by hammer’s sound;
The Furnace next; then Roleing-Mill;
‘Till Breakfast’s call’d, my time doth fill;
Then round my Acres (few) I trot,
To see what’s done and what is not.
Give orders what ought to be done.
Then sometimes take my Dog and Gun.
Under an aged spreading Oak,
At noon I take a favorite Book.
To shun the heat and feed the Mind,
In elbow chair I sit reclined.
Whether intentionally or not, Revere’s poem repeatedly juxtaposes images of nature and industry without identifying any links between them. Revere wakes each morning to birdsongs and proceeds to inspect his hammer, furnace, and rolling mill. He issues instructions to his workers, and then goes hunting with his dog and gun before reading under a tree. At the end of his poem, he states:
Or ere the Sun sinks in the West
Or tunefull birds skim to their nests
To walk thro Groves, and grass’y Fields
Contemplating what Nature yealds.1
Revere’s romantic imagery, common in the late eighteenth century, labels him a supporter of the pastoral ideal. He preferred the gardenlike aspects of nature to its wilder components while keeping civilization’s comforts reassuringly close at hand.2 Unlike late nineteenth-century writers such as Mark Twain, Henry David Thoreau, and Herman Melville who viewed machinery and technology as threats to pastoral fulfillment, Revere prominently included industrial elements in his catalogue of Cantondale’s delights. To Revere, his Canton property represented a “middle landscape,” a harmonious compromise between wild nature and civilization. This compromise extended to his daily life, which included a blend of productive activity and contemplative leisure that combined the ideals of the hard-working self-made artisan and those of the intellectual gentleman. It is tempting to apply the themes of his Cantondale poem to his final years and conclude that he found happiness on his rural property, surrounded by a harmonious mixture of nature and technological activity that satisfied him by simultaneously being both productive and relaxing.
Perhaps Revere wrote “Cantondale” in anticipation of his life’s final stage, using it to cast his journey and his destination in a balanced, pleasant, and philosophical light. On March 1, 1811, at age 76, Paul Revere officially retired, closing the book on an incredible career that began more than 60 years earlier when he first donned an apprentice’s apron in his father’s silver shop. For a man who defined himself by his achievements, retirement undoubtedly represented a difficult and momentous transition. But at least he knew his business would live on under the capable supervision of Joseph Warren, his trusted son and partner.
To implement an orderly succession of business ownership, Revere prepared new Articles of Agreement to formally establish a partnership between his son Joseph Warren and two of his oldest and most capable grandsons, Paul Revere III and Thomas Eayres Jr. This partnership inherited all of Revere’s company’s assets, totaling more than $40,000, and maintained the name Paul Revere and Son. This asset total greatly understated the firm’s real worth as it failed to account for the value of property and equipment, and also excluded certain personal property that belonged to the business. Joseph Warren became the new senior partner of this family venture, responsible for four-sixths of all expenses and entitled to a similar percentage of all profits, while the other two controlled one-sixth of the business and profits each. Revere loaned Joseph Warren the use of all his property and in exchange Joseph Warren agreed to pay him $900 a year and reserved to his father the exclusive use of his house.3 This arrangement smoothly accomplished many goals: Joseph Warren continued as director and unquestioned majority owner while the two younger men learned the trade, received leadership experience, and shared the prestige of ownership. Paul Revere’s share of the property continued to see productive employment in the business, and Revere received rent from its use, helping to support his final years in an era that lacked welfare, social security, or pensions. Paul Revere and Son’s new partnership united Joseph Warren with two members of the next generation, including the oldest son of Paul’s oldest son, paving the way for continued family involvement as other grandchildren matured. The thought of a thriving family business must have pleased Revere, who firmly established his role as family patriarch and the founder of a successful manufacturing dynasty.
Compared to the voluminous correspondence describing his working career, there is very little information about Revere’s retirement activities. The Revere Family Papers include letterbooks that extend beyond his retirement date, but they exclusively consist of draft letters written by Joseph Warren, the company’s new head, to a variety of suppliers and clients. Revere’s records no longer include any personal correspondence, perhaps because the family focused upon business records when preserving items for the archives. Other information sources paint a sketchy picture of Paul Revere’s final years, consistent with his lifelong activities and interests. Revere’s retirement years were nothing if not comfortable: he lived in a spacious three-story brick house on Charter Street in Boston’s North End for some of the year, and spent his summers in the large Canton house on the company property, which included a weathervane and other items manufactured by Revere’s own hand. He shared both domiciles with many members of his family: unmarried daughter Harriet always remained at his side; daughter Maria and her husband lived with him in Boston until they could afford to live on their own; Joseph Warren shared the Canton address; and clusters of grandchildren surrounded him everywhere. He remained a die-hard Federalist, keeping himself informed by subscribing to various Federalist newspapers while also paying dues to the Boston Library until his death. Revere attended church each week and drew attention via his adherence to old-fashioned gentlemanly attire—knee breeches, long stockings, ruffled shirts, and cocked three-cornered hats—which made him look, in one boy’s words, as if he “always wore small-clothes.” Revere no longer held leadership positions in charitable or public organizations but certainly remained in touch with larger events. Demonstrating his public spirit in September 1814, 79-year-old Paul Revere became the first of 150 “Mechanics of the Town of Boston” to sign a petition pledging their services to help Governor Caleb Strong prepare defenses in anticipation of a British attack. The governor took them up on this offer and the mechanics, along with all of Boston’s public and private students, built Fort Strong and thereby fortified Noddle’s Island. A letter of thanks from Bishop Cheverus indicates that Revere paid his workers their usual salary so they could work at the fortifications.4
Revere suffered two profound losses when his oldest son Paul Jr. and his beloved wife Rachel both died in 1813. These deaths underlined the mortality surrounding every stage of his life: only five of his sixteen children outlived him, and he now had to carry on without the charming company of his wife, immortalized as his “Better Half” in his Cantondale poem and captured in a Gilbert Stuart painting a little more than a month before her death. Revere hopefully drew some comfort from the thriving family that would outlive him: daughter Mary from his first marriage, and Joseph Warren, Harriet, Maria, and John from his second, along with at least fifty-one gra
ndchildren.5
Paul Revere died on May 10, 1818. His last will and testament reveals the great trust he placed in Joseph Warren, since he appointed him the guardian for all grandchildren under the legal age. Revere left $4,000 to each of his five surviving children and approximately $10,000 to those of his grandchildren whose parents had died. In a later codicil to the will, Joseph Warren also received the money previously given to Revere’s three daughters with instructions to pay them the interest from that money in quarterly installments. Revere did not immediately grant all his business property and equipment to Joseph Warren, but rather asked him to purchase it from the estate over a period of four years, at “lawful” interest. In addition, after the estate made all Revere’s bequests to his children and grandchildren, Joseph Warren received the remainder of his father’s personal property and money.6 Relishing his role as the family patriarch, Revere did his best to distribute his money to his family in a fair manner that sustained everyone while maintaining enough capital to continue profitable manufacturing operations.
The will also allowed him to demonstrate and reinforce his view of each child’s position in the family. Paul Revere’s three surviving daughters received a lifetime of interest payments from their inheritance, but Revere left the management and disbursement of that money to Joseph Warren, the anointed successor to the family’s patriarchal role. Oldest daughter Mary had married carpenter Jedidiah Lincoln in 1797 and eventually had seven children. Youngest daughter Maria had married businessman Joseph Balestier in 1814 and traveled with him to Singapore in the 1830s while he served as an American diplomat. And middle daughter Harriet never married, but instead lived with her brothers and helped to care for different family members. Perhaps in recognition of the constant support she offered on behalf of the family, Paul Revere left her all his household furniture.
Midnight Ride, Industrial Dawn Page 43
