Sometimes there are stories passed from one generation to the next. Stories that are woven and embellished but held closely to the hearts of the descendants because at some point the story becomes your legacy. As the years pass and the story is told and retold yet again there are questions and concerns and fact checking here and there. As the family gathers each year to celebrate birthdays, anniversaries and funerals too, the same old stories resurface.
Descendants tend to honor and build upon the history of their ancestors; it is only natural and expected to a degree. I have stories in my family that I have always enjoyed, sometimes when doubt arises, I simply visit the attic and return with a historic relic that I cherish, which leads to even more stories.
There was a family living in Hopkinton over a century ago that had a story, it was a good story and certainly provides an unbelievable connection to one of the most historic events of our country. This story that was told again and again in the little town of Hopkinton dates back to the days of the Revolutionary War, in particular the Battle of Bunker Hill.
As we are all aware, it was the provincial soldiers of Massachusetts, Connecticut and New Hampshire that battled against the British on June 17, 1775. Some of the soldiers engaged in this bloody fight against the British, on the hills lined with fenced pastures across from the Charles River, survived and returned home at the end of the war. The British did in fact claim the field that day but not before our ancestors extracted a toll with about one thousand British soldiers and Marines wounded or killed. Eventually victory was accomplished and the war ended as the British fled. Our war hardened ancestors simply returned to their hometowns, places like Concord, and attempted to return to their prior routines as farmers, merchants, doctors, lawyers and blacksmiths. They returned to their families and attended church, many adjusted though there were many that spent their nights fighting the British again and again in their nightmares.
It was 50 years after the Battle of Bunker Hill was fought that the Marquis De Lafayette knelt on the field of glory and placed the cornerstone for a monument to commemorate and honor the brave soldiers that fought. This monument stood 221 feet tall, an obelisk built from quarried granite. This monument stands today on Breeds Hill where our ancestors constructed a crude fort before the battle.
There was a young New Hampshire soldier that bravely served in the Revolutionary War, his name was Richard Cressy and he settled in Hopkinton after the war ended. He married and his union produced nine children, the youngest child being Cyrus Cressy. The family story tells us that Richard was a gunsmith during the war and he passed his small vice and screwdriver down to his son as a memento of his efforts against the British. There is one additional relic from the war that traveled home to Hopkinton, a 24-pound cannonball from the Battle of Bunker Hill.
The family story, handed down time and again to each generation, does speak of the cannonball. It turns out the cannonball from Bunker Hill did not travel back to Hopkinton with the soldier Richard Cressy, it was in fact his son Cyrus that carried this piece of history. Cyrus was issued a pass as he was hired on as mason to help build the Bunker Hill Monument. Cyrus honored his father with his trade and participation building this monument. Sometimes pride has a way of spanning generations and fulfilling the love within one’s heart. Yes, Cyrus was proud to honor both his father and the men that fought the British along with him. He held the crude gunsmith tools closely and guarded them in honor of his father.
On a warm day, he traveled to Boston, showed his pass to access the hallowed battlefield where the Bunker Hill Monument would be built. It was Cyrus Cressy, with spade in hand, who worked diligently excavating the soil so that the foundation for the monument could be built. Not just any foundation, but a foundation supporting the fathers and mothers of the prior generation, those that had sacrificed so much in their quest from freedom.
Cyrus returned each day, showed his pass, and resumed digging. The deeper the pit for the foundation the stronger it would be. It was at this time that Cyrus Cressy, blistered hands holding his shovel, struck a hard object. His first thoughts assumed that this was a rock or boulder that would have to be removed. Soon he realized the shape and size of the object was not a rock at all. He excavated some more and gently removed the remaining soil, staring into the ground he discovered a Battle of Bunker Hill cannonball. He lifted the 24-pound cannonball for his startled coworkers to see, pride on his face, his mind at the moment centered on all that was not so long ago. His thoughts were with his beloved father when he approached his foreman on the construction site and asked if he could keep the cannonball. The foreman, not quite sure what to do, told him it would be fine to keep this, just cover it with a cloth to divert attention as you leave the job this evening.
As the workweek ended and young Cyrus mounted his horse for his trip north, he placed his 24-pound Battle of Bunker Hill cannonball in his saddlebag and headed north, back to New Hampshire. Yes, stories are passed from one generation to the next, woven and embellished, our family legacies have a way of doing that.