Dans Papers - May 25, 2007 - Fishhook Mulford

Every week, I publish either one or two biographies of current residents of this place. They are called "Who's Here" and in them, of course, you find out who is here and what they have done.

The other day, someone asked me if I ever had a chance to do a "Who Was Here" column about some local character from the early settler days, whom would I choose? There is no question about who this might be. It would be Samuel "Fishhook" Mulford of East Hampton.

Now, most people with a passing interest in history know that Fishhook Mulford was a local resident who, at one point, went to England to complain about the whale oil tax that was being levied against East End residents. Inasmuch as he had heard that, in London, there were a whole lot of pickpockets, he famously decided to put fishhooks in his pockets. If any of these thieves went after his money, all they would get was a good jab with one of the fishhooks.

As you will soon learn, Mulford should be known for far more than just that.

Samuel Mulford, born in 1645, grew up in East Hampton. A stocky man, Mulford was a local farmer with a strong will and a fearless set of principles and felt he ought to do something with them. So he ran for public office.

In his twenties, he served on the General Assembly of the Colony of Connecticut for two years. When the powers that be declared that the Hamptons should be part of New York Colony instead of Connecticut Colony, he argued fiercely against it up in Hartford, because the settlers, he knew, had far more in common with New England than with New York. In the end, he lost. But, he then ran for a seat in the New York Assembly, got elected, and proceeded to use that platform as a place to criticize what he saw was a very bad thing going on in New York.

Mulford felt that the English governor and the colonial politicians were getting rich while the local fishermen and farmers -- the working men of the East End -- paid their taxes and got little in return. The Assembly, composed of freely elected men, was supposed to be able to say whatever they wanted and have the governor consider and support whatever measures they passed. But Mulford saw the assemblymen getting bribes and favors from the British governor -- he said he had gotten offers himself -- and, as a result, few laws of importance came out of that body for the Governor to object to.

In 1716, Mulford wrote a speech, which he intended to deliver at the Assembly, that would point fingers and name names of who was getting rich by going along with Governor Hunter. The governor heard about this speech before it could be delivered and was determined not to let it happen. He told the judges in Albany, all of whom he had appointed, to look forward to a lawsuit, which he, the governor, would shortly file against Mulford. He then demanded that the police arrest Sam Mulford. Then, he told the Speaker of the Assembly, who he had also appointed, to have the speech seized and destroyed. Keep in mind, things were hand-written back then. The only way to get copies of something was to either have it transcribed or have a printer make hundreds of leaflets.

Hearing about this, Mulford went to a printer and had 100 copies printed up and distributed. The governor demanded that Mulford be evicted from the Assembly and his properties seized. But Mulford had no properties worth seizing, so none were. He was, nevertheless, expelled from the Assembly.

Returning to East Hampton, Mulford made the astonishing decision to take his case directly to the King of England in London. Lining his pockets with the legendary fishhooks, he went across Long Island Sound by boat to Newport and then WALKED to Boston. In this way, he succeeded in not being captured or detained by either the Governor or any soldiers, who would be of a mind to prevent him from going to London as a private citizen, that might be about.

At that time, Mulford was 71. Arriving in London after a month-long journey across the Atlantic, he was taken by carriage from the docks to the Court of St. James. There, the leader of the House of Commons met with Mulford and decided, after sizing him up quite correctly, that he was a simple working man in a broadcloth shirt, baggy trousers, suspenders and boots and that the House of Commons should hear what he had to say. He did speak there -- a remarkable thing -- on August 21, 1716. In a low, strong voice, he described the corruption he had seen in Albany during his term there as an assemblyman and he spoke against the levying of the paralyzing whale oil tax, one tenth of a part of all, which he said the House would never hear about because many of the assemblymen had their hands out to receive a good part of it and he asked that this tax be removed.

He spoke for an hour. When he had finished, the Members of Parliament voted unanimously to rescind the whale oil tax on the Long Island colonists.

After a triumphant return home, at which time, according to a letter written by John Lyon Gardiner of East Hampton, "Songs and rejoicings took place among the whalemen of Suffolk County on account of his having succeeded in getting the King's share given up," the townspeople sent him off to Albany once again. He was still their representative. They'd elected no other. Needless to say, this did not sit well with either the Governor or the Leader of the Assembly.

As a matter of fact, Governor Hunter was livid. He ordered the Assembly to form a committee to grill Mulford themselves and the Assembly, still in the pocket of the British Governor -- nothing had changed -- did just that. Why had he printed his speech? Had he known he was forbidden to do so?

Mulford told them he had printed the speech because there was freedom of speech. Then he withdrew and, as the assembly voted once again to expel him, he got into a carriage and headed once again to East Hampton.

This time, however, the assembly voted -- again at the order of the Governor -- to have East Hampton hold new elections to find a replacement representative. But everybody in East Hampton knew what the outcome of that would be. They put up two people's names on a ballot and then voted their hero back into Albany by write-in.

So now, at the age of 72, he went again. And again he rose to speak. There was an actual REQUIREMENT that all new assemblymen make a speech, and he was a "new" assemblyman, so he spoke out against the power, patronage and pretentiousness he clearly observed in that place the last time and the perversion that came of it, as dictated by the powerful and intimidating Governor Hunter.

Mulford remained the assemblyman in Albany for three years, which became, arguably, his second term. He was, no matter how you look at it, a true American hero. And the Assembly was stuck with him.

In 1720, however, with Mulford speaking at every opportunity he could on the floor of the Assembly, a new governor was appointed by the King -- William Burnet.

Burnet actually figured out a way to get rid of Mulford. He would fire everybody. On October 26, 1720, he had a letter delivered to the Assembly stating that, since he was the new, freshly appointed governor, a new assembly would have to be voted in. Therefore, the existing assembly -- to whom he was sending this letter -- must be disbanded in its entirety and all its representatives sent home. He would not act with the existing assembly.

And so everybody left and with them, for the third time, was Samuel Fishhook Mulford, who decided that, at the age of 73, he ought to call it a day. No one before or since has ever been expelled from the Assembly of the State of New York three times. It's a record.

All of this took place nearly fifty years before the Boston Tea Party, during which the colonists protested the tea tax.

On the occasion of the 100th Anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, a celebration was held on the town green in East Hampton and a speech, recorded for posterity, was given about Samuel Fishhook Mulford by the Town Supervisor. The year was 1876. At the end of his speech, he said this.

"The very grievances which Mulford complained of were afterwards redressed by the King and the people finally triumphed. Why sleeps his memory, unrecorded, on the historian's page?"