“Should be a Movie” is Week 16’s prompt for the 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks challenge. This is a tale about the American Revolution, and a brave and unlikely ancestor of mine who started it. No, not the famous revolution you’re thinking of that began in 1775. I’m talking about the original one, known as Gove’s Rebellion. In 1683 in a fit of drunken rage, my 9th great-grandfather, Edward Gove, incited his fellow citizens to take up arms against New Hampshire’s corrupt governor. All the elements of a good movie are present. It has an almost Don Quixote-like hero in Edward Gove, evil, money-hungry villains, an epically entertaining uprising, and a trip across the ocean to the Tower of London which nearly results in the horrific execution of our beloved hero. Gove stands up to adversity while the community stands behind him, despite his known struggles with “lunacy.” There’s comedy. There’s drama.
Oh, and Edward Gove almost gets his penis chopped off.
Picture it: New Hampshire, 1683. Tempers are flaring. A few years earlier, King Charles II partitioned New Hampshire off from Massachusetts and made it a royal province. Initially, the province was governed by a council of elected representatives, but that changed thanks to two greedy men (actually, three if you count the king) Robert Mason and Edward Cranfield.
Mason’s ancestor, Captain John Mason, gained the title for a large portion of New Hampshire back in 1622, though his ownership was disputed, and he never actually stepped foot on the land. He built a few mills and stocked the colony with cannons, but after his death, the colony fell into a state of decay. Like neglectful, out-of-state landlords, the family back in England did nothing to improve their inheritance. Without an active or interested property owner, squatters moved in and built homes. One descendant even sued an occupant back in 1652 for rent, and although he won in court, he returned to England without collecting any money. You can’t squeeze blood from a stone. That’s the last the fine people of New Hampshire heard from the Masons for nearly 30 years, until Robert Mason decided to force the issue in 1679.
Robert Mason quite enjoyed the idea of controlling his own little kingdom, lording over the peasants, and collecting rent and taxes. He named himself “Lord and Proprietor of New Hampshire” …. which went over about as well as you’d expect. New Englanders have never been known for their hospitality or warmth towards those who are “from away.” Mason probably assumed the colonists would bow down to his authority and grovel at the feet of their newly minted lord and master, which shows he truly didn’t understand the hardy and independent people of New England. Imminent domain, baby. Possession is 9/10ths of the law. The settlers were outraged that this outsider, who as far as they were concerned had no rightful claim over the homes they built, the businesses they established, and the farmland they cleared, was under the delusion they’d pay him rent and taxes.
Mason had the king’s ear and convinced him to appoint Edward Cranfield governor. He promised 20% of all the taxes he collected to King Charles II, and paid Governor Cranfield a bribe of 150 pounds to do his bidding. In October of 1682, Governor Cranfield arrived in New Hampshire and attempted to bend the will of the people.
It didn’t go well.
Governor Cranfield was universally despised and gave off major Sheriff of Nottingham energy. He was such a sleazeball that more than 300 years later, written accounts of his personality still exist. He was described by Charles Bell as “a needy, arbitrary, unscrupulous man,” and Joseph Dow called him “a man as unprincipled and as greedy of gain as the King himself.” It didn’t take long for the colonists to realize he was out for himself and wanted one thing – money. When the king disbanded the elected council and appointed residents to a newly formed assembly, Cranfield assumed pushing Mason’s taxes through would be easy. Wrong! The council members were still people of New Hampshire who hated the idea of some out-of-town, pompous Englishman taxing them to the hilt. As landowners, the taxes would hit them especially hard, and there was no way they were going to vote against their own self-interest. They opposed all the horrible things fancy-pants Mr. “Lord and Proprietor of New Hampshire” Mason wanted to do, like selling land right out from under them and refusing to allow residents to harvest firewood for their homes.
At the same time, the assembly was growing increasingly frustrated with Governor Cranfield, and felt he was overstepping his position. If they tried to pass something, Cranfield vetoed it. He continued his efforts to push through Mason’s unpopular taxes, though the assembly voted down his measures every time. In a last-ditch effort to get the governor to back off, they tried speaking his love-language. They found out what Mason paid him and upped that figure to a 250-pound bribe. Governor Cranfield gleefully took their money, but instead of working with the colonists when they again voted down his proposed tax bill, he became angry and demanded to see all of the property deeds and records. Edward Gove, a councilman, called out Cranfield’s actions, insisting he had no right to see their property records or force through any new taxes. The confrontation became heated, and Governor Cranfield threatened to take Gove to court. He then dissolved the assembly, took complete control over the colony, and issued a direct tax to the residents and a brand-new tax on merchant vessels.
Edward Gove was pissed! He owned a substantial amount of land, which meant a huge tax bill under the new rules. All who knew him – and pretty much everyone was familiar with the Hampton resident – avoided his wrath at all costs. Gove had a volatile temper, and once that genie was uncorked, it was hard to shove it back in the bottle. It’s likely he also suffered from mental illness. His contemporaries referenced his “strange distemper,” an affliction his mother also suffered from, according to neighbors and his wife. He was in and out of court for conflicts with neighbors and for publically spewing excessively foul language (he's a man after my own heart!). Gove even tried to murder his neighbor’s wife once because he thought the poor woman was trying to bewitch him! He was briefly jailed for that but deemed not in his right mind. The court released Gove to a neighbor who promised to care for him until his sanity returned. That’s an example of Edward Gove at his worst. At his best, Gove was an industrious, diligent worker, who possessed a keen sense of fairness, and a bottomless reservoir of energy. Despite his mental illness, the people of Hampton had a great deal of respect for Gove. While they didn’t overlook his irrational behavior, they understood he suffered from an affliction beyond his control and did what they could to help him and his family during these episodes. Pretty progressive for the 1600s! If he got too out of hand, his wife would send one of the kids next-door, and a neighbor would come over and tie him up until his fit passed and he was no longer a danger. Yes, seriously. For all his raving and that one attempted murder, those who knew him best worried more that he’d eventually hurt himself than someone else.
Edward Gove was a man of high-highs and low-lows, and nothing exacerbated his condition more than alcohol. After the assembly was dissolved and Cranfield forced through all those taxes, he couldn’t stand the injustice. He got completely hammered, and decided he was done with Cranfield’s crap, and Mason’s crap, and even bloody King Charles II’s crap. He tried to convince the other leaders in Hampton to stand with him and overthrow Governor Cranfield. The other men attempted to talk him down, but Gove wasn’t in the right headspace for rational discourse. He armed his son and his servant (it’s likely neither young man had much choice in the matter) and set off for Exeter to muster people for his revolution.
In Exeter, he gave an impassioned speech and gathered a small group of 12 men to revolt with him. One young gentleman, Nathaniel Ladd (likely another relative of mine), blew a trumpet. They rode back to Hampton, blowing their horn and shouting for their neighbors to come out and join them in their fight against corruption and tyranny. Gove was certain his fellow townspeople would grab their guns and swords and rush to join his revolution!
It didn’t quite go that way. Though the zealous group made enough of a ruckus to be noticed, no one took them seriously. Watching the men from their windows or yards, most people probably said something like, “Edward Gove is having another one of his fits again, Jebediah. Should we let it run its course or do we need to get the ropes out?” They saw Edward Gove … being Edward Gove. No big deal for the townspeople, but when the militia heard all the noise they captured and jailed the rebels.
But, our intrepid freedom-fighters immediately escaped and noisily rode off to Gove’s house, where they likely drank more ale.
When the constable showed up at Gove’s residence to arrest him again, Edward Gove pointed his sword at his chest and declared, “Hand off –I know your business as well as yourself. I will not be taken at my house!” The constable realized he needed help, but by the time he returned with some men to assist him, Gove was gone.
The following day, Edward Gove led his posse around Hampton, again with trumpets blaring. Brandishing swords and guns, they called on their fellow citizens to take up arms and join the fight. The group was promptly arrested – this time for real. Everyone was caught, except for young Nathaniel Ladd who somehow evaded capture and managed to hide out until the trial was over. Governor Cranfield, angered by Gove’s lack of respect, was determined to make an example of him. The rabble-rousers were clapped in irons and sent to Portsmouth where they were shocked to learn they were being tried for treason! Most people viewed their shenanigans as nothing more than disturbing the peace. Any reasonable government official would issue a fine and send them home, but Cranfield’s bloated ego was injured. The man was out for Gove's blood.
The trial was held only five days later, and while most of the group was pardoned, Gove, was not. Many friends testified on his behalf, beseeching the court to take his mental state into account, but Judge Richard Waldern remained unmoved. He handed down a cruel and gruesome death sentence:
You Edward Gove shall be drawn on a hedge to ye place of Execution and there you shall be hanged by ye neck, and while yet living be cut down and cast upon ye ground, and your bowels shall be taken out of your belly, and your privy members cut off and burnt while you are yet alive, your head shall be cut off, and your body divided in four parts, and your head and quarters shall be placed where our Soveraigne Lord ye King pleaseth to appoint.
A bit overkill, no? In case you skipped over that old-timey speech, let’s break it down into easily digestible modern English:
1. Hang him by the neck until he thinks he’s going to die.
2. Cut him down in such a way that he hits the ground hard.
3. Disembowel him.
4. Cut off his DICK and set it on FIRE while he’s still alive.
5. Cut off his head.
6. Chop up his body and place it all over England, per the king’s whim.
The judge handed down this sentence, yet Gove is the crazy one in this story?
To give Gove more miserable things to ponder while awaiting execution, Judge Waldern argued that he was a traitor and seized his property and possessions for the Crown. His wife and children were thrown into the streets, penniless.
The community was outraged over Gove’s excessively harsh punishment, and the court’s shameful treatment of his wife and children. Fearing the people would break Gove out of jail and help him escape, Governor Cranfield sent him to the Tower of London to await execution. Our hero remained there for three long, miserable years.
With his nemesis Gove out of the way, Cranfield resumed collecting taxes…or tried to. He didn’t have much luck. Instead of viewing Gove’s fate as a cautionary tale about respecting government authority as Cranfield intended, the people of New Hampshire considered it an unjust abuse of power. If it happened to Gove, it could happen to them. By arresting Gove, Cranfield inadvertently set in motion what Gove wanted all along – a wide-spread revolt. Cranfield’s tax collectors were met with open defiance, contempt, hostility, and violence. Women greeted tax-collectors at the door with cauldrons of boiling water. Men chased them away with clubs and sometimes beat them. Even children got in on the action. When one tax collector had the bright idea to ambush people as they were leaving church, an outraged little girl bitch-slapped him in the head with her Bible! Thwack!
In the midst of all this chaos, the people of Hampton worked tirelessly to get Gove back. Friends, family, and Gove himself appealed the execution and wrote numerous letters to the king. Gove claimed ignorance of any wrongdoing and said he’d raised hell and spoken out about the government and taxes for 14 or 15 years without any consequences. His wife, Hannah, wrote that her husband was prone to “a distemper of Lunacy or some such like, which he have been subject to by times from his youth and yet is until now, though at times seemingly rational.” Friends and neighbors shared their personal experiences with Gove’s fits, and insisted he was a harmless man who didn’t understand what he was doing at the time. Everyone called out Governor Cranfield and the judge for their unfair treatment of Gove’s family, and the unwarranted death sentence. I imagine their letters boiled down to something like this:
Dear King,
We know Edward Gove is a nut, but he’s our nut and we’re rather fond of him. Please send him home, so he can continue to do crazy shit around the people who know and love him, and you can get back to beheading those who truly deserve it.
By the way, Governor Cranfield is a greedy bastard and is terrible at his job. New Hampshire was peaceful before he showed up. He ruined everything. He supports that Mason guy who won’t even let us cut down trees for firewood. Can you believe that? Do you know how cold winters get in New Hampshire? Please fire Cranfield. We all hate him. He doth sucketh ye olde donkey balls!
Sincerely,
All of Hampton, New Hampshire
These initial appeals were completely ignored by King Charles II, but when King James II took the throne, he paid attention. Being a new king, he had a lot on his plate, and I guess he found all the noise coming from this piddly little New Hampshire province way across the ocean kind of annoying. It was Governor Cranfield’s job to make sure he wasn’t bothered by endless letters from the colonies, yet here he was – being bothered by endless letters from the colonies. King James II looked into the matter, and actually agreed with the people of Hampton. Edward Gove, a man clearly touched in the head, was sentenced to death for what? Getting drunk and making some noise? Ridiculous! He pardoned Gove, put him on a boat home, and ordered his land returned to him.
He also fired Governor Cranfield.
When the people of Hampton learned Gove was coming home and Cranfield was recalled to England, they rejoiced! The sooner he was out of their lives, the better! Unwilling to allow him the dignity of departing under his own steam, they formed an unofficial committee to kick him out of New Hampshire. The group accosted him, took his sword away, tied him to the back of a horse, and marched him to the border of Massachusetts. The humiliated ex-governor was warned never to return. That’s one way to take out the trash!
Edward Gove was a colorful character with a fiery personality. Out of all my historical ancestors, he’s by far my favorite because I feel a kinship with him. If I ever get arrested it will definitely be for swearing excessively or getting so pissed off over an injustice that I stage a small, over-the-top revolt to simultaneously vent my feelings and stand up for what I believe in my heart is right. Like Gove, I’d also be wondering, “Why isn’t everyone as mad about this as me?” The other thing I love about Gove’s story is how the people of Hampton treated him. He obviously suffered from some form of mental illness, but he wasn’t shunned or thrown in jail every time he did something odd or dangerous. They accepted him for who he was, faults and all. I really can picture this as a movie. Gove is the imperfect hero we all need. Between his antics, the town rallying around him, and evil villains like Cranfield and Mason to hate on, the little-known story of Gove’s Rebellion would make one hell of an entertaining movie.
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