Stand in the middle of Concord’s North Bridge with the Minute Man statue on your right and the British soldiers’ grave on your left. Place your hands on the rough wooden handrail in front of you; slightly to the left, you will see The Old Manse through the trees. The Scottish name for a “minister’s house,” the Manse was built in 1769 for Reverend William Emerson and his wife, Phebe Bliss. Years later, their grandson, Ralph Waldo Emerson, lived here and, in turn, rented it to writer Nathaniel Hawthorne. While their spirits watch you from the Manse, peer down into the Concord River that Ralph Waldo called “the dark stream which seaward creeps” and brace yourself: this tale is about to get rough. 

London, England: 1625-1635

On a gray horse, Thomas Bliss rode from his home in Devonshire into London, where King Charles I’s spies spotted him. Although Bliss was descended from English King William the Conqueror, he was also a Puritan refusing to conform to King Charles’ religious mandates, and he was arrested, beaten, imprisoned, and fined one thousand pounds. The King’s agents next turned on Bliss’ elderly father, also a Puritan, dragging him through the streets and torturing him, resulting in his death. 

Bliss was released but arrested again; this time he was paraded with a rope around his neck through London with other Puritans and again fined and imprisoned, and his possessions and livestock confiscated. It became clear to Bliss that it was time to move. The Bliss family sailed to America. 

Around the same time, Reverend Peter Bulkeley, a Puritan Minister, was fleeing to the New World, where he would become a founding citizen of Concord, Massachusetts; and William Hathorne, a merchant seeking new trading grounds and adventure, was on his way to Salem, Massachusetts, where he would become a leading political figure. 

Over one hundred years of English rule later, their direct descendants were living in the Province of Massachusetts Bay; in Salem, sea captain and merchant Daniel Hathorne (3rd-great-grandson of William Hathorne) and in Concord, both lawyer Daniel Bliss (2x-great-grandson of Thomas Bliss) and newly-appointed Concord minister Reverend William Emerson (3x-great-grandson of Rev. Peter Bulkeley). Bliss’ younger sister, Phebe, was married to William Emerson, but friction was splitting the rope binding their families together.

Middle of North Bridge

| © Barrow Bookstore

Years of British rule continued, breaking over New England’s shores and seeping inward on rivers of growing discontent that wound their way through towns like Concord. As those waters flowed by The Old Manse and under the North Bridge, Reverend William Emerson wrote sermons laced with praises of liberty while enslaved people attended to daily tasks on his property. This irony was not lost on his brother-in-law, Daniel Bliss, who lived nearby in Concord Center and served on town committees whose members included other enslavers. Bliss publicly decried their hypocrisy of advocating for their own freedom while enslaving others.

Born in Concord, Bliss attended Harvard and became a lawyer well-regarded for his sharp mind and committed to upholding the laws of Parliament. He was a legal consultant for Governor Hutchinson until Hutchinson was replaced in 1774 by Military Governor Thomas Gage who came in like a hammer implementing the Boston Port Act, completely shutting down Boston Harbor “until it shall sufficiently appear to his Majesty” that the colonists had fully paid back East India Company merchants for losses suffered during the Boston Tea Party. 

That didn’t happen, but a meeting in Concord did in December 1774, when the townspeople assembled to discuss the Boston Port Act. Daniel Bliss addressed his fellow Concordians, passionately pleading the case for remaining loyal to Britain and upholding the law. Bliss’ words cemented his position in town as a Loyalist, and as Governor Gage was sending British spies throughout Massachusetts, Patriot spies in Concord set their eyes on Bliss.

On the night of March 12, 1775, two British spies came to Concord to gather information about artillery and provisions rumored to be hidden here. Watchful Concordians observed an unnamed woman escort them to the house of Daniel Bliss, whom one of the spies, Ensign Henry de Berniere, described as “A friend of Government.” The woman was confronted by townspeople and, as documented by de Berniere, frantically returned to Bliss’ house, banging on the door and crying that she was about to be tarred and feathered for assisting Tories. As recorded by de Berniere, Bliss received “word [Colonists] would not let him go out of town alive that morning; however, we told him if he would come with us we would take care of him, as we were three and all well armed.” With the British soldiers, Bliss fled to Boston from where he sailed to Canada and joined the British Army.

Back in Concord, a month later on April 19, 1775, Daniel Bliss’ sister, Phebe, watched from the Manse as gunfire erupted across the North Bridge. Based on his diary, her husband, Rev. William Emerson, was likely among the colonists in the smoke as the American Revolutionary War began. 

The Old Manse

| © Barrow Bookstore

King George III responded in August 1775 with the Proclamation of Rebellion, declaring anyone who opposed the Crown to be treasonous and traitorous. The punishment: death by hanging.

Traitors one and all, colonists, including William Emerson, roped their allegiance to the newly formed Continental Congress and joined the Continental Army. In spring 1776, Rev. Emerson set out for Fort Ticonderoga to serve as chaplain in the Continental Army. (He never returned to Concord, catching camp fever and dying on his attempt to return home.) 

While Emerson was ministering at Fort Ticonderoga, the Second Continental Congress formally authorized private ships to act as vessels of war. Letter of Marque in hand, out of Salem, in full-unfurled fury flew Captain Daniel Hathorne and his ship, the True American, running through British blockades, delivering essential cargo to the colonists, then turning around and pursuing anything under the King’s colours— going as far as Aberdeen, Scotland, where he attacked a British ship. With cannons flashing from both ships, Daniel Hathorne was shot in the head but maintained command, sailing into history under the nickname “Bold Daniel” and inspiring a terror of American privateers.

Months later, Daniel Bliss marched with British General Burgoyne’s army to recapture Fort Ticonderoga, the ghost of his brother-in-law barely a moment absent from it. Bliss still owned his property in Concord, and as he stepped from Canada into New York, in the eyes of the Continental Congress, he was committing “treason against” the united colonies, of which he was still technically a member. 

In September 1778, the Massachusetts’ Banishment Act banned over three hundred Loyalists, including Daniel Bliss, from returning to Massachusetts without permission; doing so could lead to “the pain of death without benefit of clergy.”

Daniel Bliss’ former neighbors put him on trial for abandoning his Concord property but did not give him permission to return to defend himself. His house and lands were confiscated. Bliss remained in Canada, where he became a Chief Justice of the Court of Common Pleas. Today, the site of his house in Concord is covered by modern developments in the area of Main and Walden Streets. 

But, here, by the North Bridge where you began this tale, the house built for Reverend William Emerson and Daniel Bliss’ sister remains and later became home to “Bold Daniel” Hathorne’s grandson, Nathaniel Hawthorne. Hawthorne’s words from Mosses from an Old Manse invite you to let go of the handrail for “we stand now on…the river of peace and quietness” whose riverbed holds the memories of “those who passed into eternity.” 

For a list of sources, contact BarrowBookstore@gmail.com.