The other day, “06880” reported on a new Jennings Trail plaque, installed at Burying Hill Beach. It was the first of 4 additions to Westport’s historic markers.
The second Jennings Trail plaque is now in place. It’s on Narrow Rocks Road, at the base of the nearby hill where Tar Rock is located.
What is Tar Rock? On the eve of Ken Burns’ new “American Revolution” series — it premieres November 16, on PBS — Morley Boyd takes us back nearly 250 years. He writes:
At around 5 p.m. on Friday, April 25, 1777, a dozen British transport ships suddenly appeared just off Compo Beach, in what is now known as Westport.
Accompanying them were 3 heavily armed warships: Swan, Senegal and Halifax.
Robert Penn Lambdin’s 1955 “The British Landing at Cedar Point, April 25, 1777,” painting is part of the Westport Permanent Art Collections.
The Halifax soon broke away to act as a patrol. Continuing up the coast, it arrived at Black Rock harbor in Fairfield, where it spotted a privateer lying at anchor.
Being careful to remain out of range of Black Rock’s deadly “hot shot” cannons — which fired cannonballs that were heated until they were red hot — it effectively blockaded the privateer.
Meanwhile, back off Compo, the rest of the British fleet, carrying approximately 1,850 soldiers, dropped anchor. The sight of that many sails, and so much firepower, must have been astonishing for local residents. While they could not be sure of the target, they had been expecting the enemy.
A number of towns in the area had contingency plans in place to address a possible British incursion. This included appointing volunteers to keep watch.
Meanwhile, General George Washington had recently received intelligence that an attack on the Continental Army’s supply depot in Danbury was likely imminent.
British forces landed at Compo Beach, marched to Danbury, marched back south and — after the Battle of Compo Hill — retreated to Long Island.
Stung by recent humiliating defeats at Trenton and Princeton, and desperate for food, tents and other supplies, British General William Howe tasked Major General William Tryon with the task of capturing the Danbury depot. His larger, strategic objective of taking Philadelphia and dividing New England in half could wait.
As the British fleet made its way up Long Island Sound from New York City, militias from Greenwich, Stamford, Darien and Norwalk closely monitored its progress. They assumed that the British were heading to Danbury.
However, Howe had simultaneously sent what turned out to be a decoy fleet up the Hudson River, making the picture a bit cloudy.
Given that he had attacked Peekskill the previous month, no one on the patriot side was entirely sure what the British objective was at this point.
Yet things were not going well on the British side either. The British discovered that Greenwich, Stamford, Darien and Norwalk were all equipped with batteries of varying capabilities.
The British realized that there was only one undefended landing place within reasonable marching distance of Danbury. That’s why their fleet showed up near the mouth of the Saugatuck River, in what is now known as Westport.
As the invasion force prepared to disembark, it is said that Benjamin Allen — a private in the 14th Company, and a member of the Greens Farms Coast Guard — lit a barrel of pine tar on fire atop a high, rocky outcropping near his house off Compo Road South.
Tar Rock, 1935. The property then belonged to Karl Anderson.
This was a standard form of communication, undoubtedly intended as a general warning. However, the spot that Allen chose for the signal fire was in direct view of the British fleet that had just arrived. They could not have missed the enormous conflagration on the hill in front of them.
Allen must have calculated that his exposed position could come under heavy fire as soon as it was spotted. Thus he reportedly took cover in a cave elsewhere in the rock formation.
The British most probably did see Allen’s fire. But the Swan and the Senegal were each outfitted with 14 cannons that could fire 6-pound balls capable of shredding enemy ships and causing horrific casualties – if the target was within about 1500 yards. Allen was out of range.
So just after arriving, but before disembarkation began in earnest, the British sent its 1st division forces over to secure Benjamin’s position. They also occupied nearby Compo Hill.
Around 5:30 p.m., after safely securing the high ground, the British began the hours-long process of bringing the troops to the shore. By 11:30 p.m., they set off for Danbury by way Compo Road.
As the mile-long column of soldiers and artillery moved north, it would have passed by Allen’s house on Compo Road South, which appears to have been located near the intersection of Ferry Lane East.
Tar Rock, 2024.
Although the British never discovered his secret cave, fate eventually caught up with him.
On July 18, 1780, while manning the Compo guard house, he and 6 other men were captured when a British sloop with 60 soldiers returned to the area to plunder the homes of patriots.
Allen was taken to New York City, and thrown in the notorious Sugar House prison. Somehow he survived. After 6 months, he was released in a prisoner exchange.
He lived the rest of his life peacefully. On March 27, 1827, at the age of 83, he quietly passed away in his Westport home. He is interred in Lower Greens Farms Burying Ground.
For a long as anyone can recall, the place where Benjamin Allen lit the signal fire to warn of the British landing in April of 1777 has been known as Tar Rock.
The newest Jennings Trail plaque. (Photos courtesy of Bob Liftig)
(From time to time, “06880” explores Westport’s near-400-year history. If you enjoy these stories — or anything else on our hyper-local blog — please click here to support our work. Thank you!)
As a 35-year resident of Tar Rock Road, I am glad to see some recognition of the legacy associated with my address. Sadly, but not surprisingly, the pictured modern-day view of the conjectured Tar Rock will likely soon be obscured by new construction on Narrow Rocks Road.
If they can do it the White House they can do it anywhere. That’s the American way
Well, just like Tar Rock Road had been remade several times, so has the White House. It’s just that this time it’s being done by someone with vulgarian tastes.
It’s a pattern how these accounts in 06880 of HIStory always mention the work the men did to warn the town of Westport, but consistently skip over the part of the story where the FIRST person in Westport to notice the ships and to run with her baby in her arms to warn Westport was actually a woman. On Friday, April 25, 1777, Mercy Disbrow of Greens Farms was boiling seawater on the beach (as her baby napped) to make salt for the household. Looking up, she was the FIRST to see twenty six mainmasts with Union Jacks flying—British warships were headed to Compo Beach. http://taylorbakercousins.blogspot.com/2009/10/three-generations-of-taylors-in.html
She ran with her baby, notified others, and triggered the Minutemen response.
You can read about it in Woody Klein’s “Westport, Connecticut: The Story of a New England Town’s Rise to Prominence,” which used to be on sale at the quondam Westport Historical Society.
Mercy Disbrow’s role is referenced in “Tar Rock Ode,” a song I co-wrote with my brother, Jon. The lyrics are meant as a metaphor for Westport’s wrecking ball culture, which arrived on Tar Rock Road a couple of years ago.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sdlQO_ZeeRc
“Imagine the fear
At Mercy Disbrow’s window
With bullets oh so near
Their bayonets akimbo
Yet tar rock smoke that day appeared
And put their fate in limbo …”
No disrespect intended towards Mercy, Kristan! As an aside, many had been carefully watching – and following on land – the British fleet as it made its way up the coast that day. In fact, the Halifax came under fire when it got a little too close to the shore of Darien. The militias from Greenwich on up quickly arrived in West Parish (today’s Westport) to observe the enemy – and work out what exactly it was up to. When the British hit Redding Road they knew the target for sure and sent an express rider to warn Danbury.
Agreed, Morley. I recall that part of the history, too. But those folks spotting the British ships were not sure where the British planned to disembark. I believe it was Mercy who, present on Compo Beach itself, saw them head to Compo Beach and was the first to notify other Westporters of the Compo Beach disembarkation spot. That allowed enough Minutemen to respond to slow (but not prevent) the British approach to Danbury.
It’s interesting to think about what might have happened if Westport had been outfitted with a suitable battery instead of being left undefended. Benedict Arnold might never been promoted as he was for his actions against the British upon their return from Danbury. He likely would have just quit and stayed in New Haven. But it didn’t go that way. He still felt underappreciated but he went on to a achieve a stunning victory at Saratoga. And that was the turning point of the war.
Fascinating!! Love this story. Love this blog!
Great story, also love this blog. Dan does a terrific job, so lets not forget to donate and support!
Truly wonderful to read this post. Re reading the history I remember. It also brings back memories from my youth. With a grandmother who lived in Owenoke and the home of my youth just off Clinton Avenue there were many imaginary times we “reenacted” the event. Imaginary redcoats marching, we hid behind stone walls. Walking down to Ford Road pretending we would find the redcoats fording the river….and also imaging Tar Rock bright with flame as a warning…..We did not need cowboys and Indians……Thanks for the real history and the memory.
As a Westporter now living in Black Rock, it’s doubly pleasant to read this intriguing history. I’ll have to get out of the Sound and retrace these steps — er, waves? sails? trips? Black Rock on Black Rock Harbor is a very old British settlement long predating Fairfield, Westport, and Bridgeport. For readers who might wonder, the reference here to Black Rock as a part of Fairfield is accurate. When Bridgeport was established in 1821, Black Rock was transferred to Bridgeport making Ash Creek the municipal boundary.