The Curious History of the Bacchus of Windham

by Michael J. Westerfield

The Windham Phoenix, Vo1.I, No.I. November 1985

Photos by C. LeBeau

Wherein are related the remarkable facts surrounding the creation and subsequent adventures of Windham's oldest resident and onetime titular deity.

The Windham Free Library is, in all likelihood, one of the smallest institutions of its kind in the country. Housed in the former bank building on the Windham Center Green, it occupies about as much space as a large living room, yet within that space are packed more treasures - rare books, paintings, historical records and artifacts - than in many libraries a dozen times its size. Among these treasures is one whose creation and subsequent history are so remarkable that one can say without hesitation that there is nothing else like it anywhere in this country. This artifact is the peculiar wooden figure known for over two hundred years as the "Bacchus of Windham."

Some hint of the image's intriguing history can be gained from the deed which transferred it to the Windham Free Library Association in 1905. In that document the carving is described as follows. "The figure or Image of the Windham Bacchus, so called, and further described as a figure or image of "Bacchus" sitting astride a keg. The height of the image and keg is 26 1/2 inches: the length of the keg is 21 inches; the image is holding a basket of fruit: upon the head of said image is carved a bunch of grapes and a grape leaf, and being the same image that was carved in the old Windham jail at Windham, Connecticut by English prisoners of war, who were confined therein, in the year 1776."

One should further note that the figure is painted in lifelike colors and that it seldom fails to startle unsuspecting patrons when they first notice it sitting upon its perch above the library door.

What were English prisoners of war doing in Windham jail, and what on earth were they doing carving statues during their incarceration? The answers are all tied up with the curious history of the Bacchus of Windham which began on April 5, 1776, the day when Lieutenant Edward Sneyd of the Royal Navy made the most serious mistake of his career.

Lieutenant Sneyd was the twenty-two year old commander of his Majesty's Ship the Bolton Brig (mistakenly called the Bombrig in American records) on routine patrol in Long Island Sound. Like most of his fellow officers, he no doubt felt contemptuous of the hodgepodge of merchant and fishing craft the Americans called a navy, and he felt sure that even his small vessel was more than a match for anything Colonials could throw against him. He may have been careless: he may have been overconfident; or he may simply have been outmatched, but the record states that he encountered a superior force of rebel ships and, after a short battle, was forced to strike his colors.

The Bolton Brigr's commander, together with his men. were taken in chains to New London harbor where they were kept for seventeen days before being dispersed to various prisons throughout the Colony. Lieutenant Sneyd and three others were sent up-river to Windham where they were incarcerated in the basement of the Town Jail, presumably for the duration of the conflict.

The prisoners sent to Windham were fairly typical of British navy men of their day. Lieutenant Snexd, the youngest son of an aristocratic family, had joined the navy at fourteen and had climbed rapidly through the ranks, due partially to ability and partially to family connections. This young, dashing, and cultured officer was the sort of person who would have been a welcome guest at any of the better homes in Windham before the difficulties with England began.

John Coggins, the forty-five year old boatswain of the Bolton Brig had run from the farm in County Meath, Ireland, and joined the navy at age nineteen. From the brief mention of him in the records, we can envision a tough old salt who could endure hardships that killed other men and whose Irish tongue could lash the hide off a drunken sailor or charm the heart of a Connecticut widow.

William Cook was a thirty-two year old seaman with five years of service under his belt. John Russel, who quite probably was the prime mover in the creation of Bacchus, was a Hampshire carpenter who had gone to work in the Portsmouth (England) Navy Yard. He had been employed in the building of the Bolton Brig and, upon her completion, had signed on as carpenter's mate. Needless to say, his choice of a ship was not a fortunate one.

These four prisoners arrived in Windham, a community that was solidly behind the Revolution, with one remarkable exception. Eleazer Fitch, the County Sheriff was a dyed-in-the-wool, thoroughly outspoken loyalist. Sheriff Fitch seems to have been deeply involved in pro-British plots and was fond of saying that the proper way of dealing with unruly Sons of Liberty was to blow their heads off. In 1774, local patriots had organized a boycott against his various businesses, including a tavern in Windham Center, but for some reason it took them several years to have him removed from his official post. In 1776, Windham was, in fact, in the peculiar position of having a staunch Tory at least nominally in charge of guarding a jail full of British prisoners.

Although Fitch's tavern was under boycott, there were plenty of other establishments catering to thirsty Windhamites. One of these neighbored on the jail, and its mistress, the Widow Carey, had at least part of the profitable business of feeding its inmates. Evidently she attended to this personally, for she is reported to have shown special kindness to the young lieutenant and his men, kindness that the prisoners decided to cultivate and use for their own ends.

There was not a great deal that men incarcerated in the dank cellar of a jail could do to impress the fair widow, but what they could do, they did, and the results were extraordinary. Seizing upon a large pine log, apparently supplied as a table, and using their jacknives, they set out to produce a symbol to advertise the good cheer that could be found in Mrs. Carey's tavern. Having a carpenter among their number served them in good stead and in a short time the figure of the god of wine, astride a barrel, began to emerge from the raw wood. The finished product was a very English looking Bacchus quite reminiscent of a ship's figurehead.

Bacchus was presented to the widow and shortly afterwards, on the inevitable dark and stormy night, the doors of their prison were left open and unguarded. Assisted by a man known in the record only by the name Lewis, the sailors made their way down to Norwich where they embarked in a stolen canoe with the intention of reaching the British strongholds on Long Island.

The journey down the Thames River must have been made at night to avoid observation and, although there were four experienced sailors involved, it seems likely that none of them had ever handled a canoe before. After some hours of paddling, they succeeded in slipping safely past New London, but managed to upset the canoe near Gull Island, in the Race where currents from the River, the Sound, and the Atlantic meet.

We can envision five men - the mysterious Lewis was still with them - clinging to the sides of the swamped canoe for endless hours until, one by one, their strength failed them and they disappeared into the dark water. Only Coggins, the husky Irishman, maintained his hold until he was finally rescued by a ship out of New London harbor.

The survivor enjoyed a few hours of freedom, but news of the escape soon reached New London and he was again arrested. He was not returned to Windham, however, and no record exists of his subsequent fate. He did give an account of the drowning of his shipmates to the Connecticut Gazette, but most persons doubted its truth, considering it to be a cover for the escape of the others.

Although the story of Bacchus' creators was cut short, the figure's own history had hardly begun. The Widow Carey set the jovial god on a stout post in front of her establishment and immediately both its appearance and the circumstances surrounding its creation brought it a notoriety that served her business quite well. Before long, however, Mrs, Carey married another local tavern keeper, none other than the infamous Sheriff Fitch, and the Bacchus was moved to the limb of a large elm in front of the Fitch Tavern on the Windham Center Green.

On Fitch's death, and we should add that he remained a loyal Tory to the end, his heirs sold his property, Bacchus included, to Lucius Abbe, landlord of the neighboring Staniford House. The image hung on a branch in front of this well-known establishment for many years until the "great gale" of 1856 sent it crashing to the ground. With this, the god's eighty year history appeared ended, for the shattered pieces were casually tossed into the tavern woodshed to serve as kindling.

The spirit of Bacchus, however, seems hard to kill, and it was not long before the Cummings boys, who lived nearby, came poking around in the woodshed and discovered the shattered carving. After lengthy negotiations, they purchased the fragments for twenty-five cents and sent them for repairs to M. S. Bowditch, a Willimantic cabinet maker. After careful restoration, Mr. Bowditch sent Bacchus over to Charles Lillie who, applied a fresh coat of paint. The total cost of the repairs was one dollar and fifty cents.

Bacchus stayed with the Cummings family for a short time before passing into the possession of Mr. Able Brooks. Mr. Brooks was a successful saloon keeper, the former owner of two drinking establishments in Willimantic. His current place of business was in Hartford, and there he took the carving and installed it upon his bar. He cleverly inserted some plumbing into Bacchus' barrel so that ale could be drawn from one end and porter from the other. The little god with his inexhaustible barrel of beer became a very popular attraction of the tavern.

After two years of this duty, Bacchus was sent off to New York City where he served time as a window ornament from 1864 to 1872 before returning once more to Hartford. By now its age and background had finally bestowed upon it the status of an "historical relic." Mr. Brooks, therefore, had the carving again repaired and given a new coat of paint by one George Bottom.

In 1892 Bacchus made a brief appearance in Windham for the Town's bicentennial celebration. This visit sparked such great interest in the figure that some of the Town's leading citizens determined to have him returned permanently to his old home. It was decided that the Windham Free Library Association should acquire the figure and accordingly Mr. H. Olinton Lathrop was sent to Hartford to negotiate with Mr. Brooks for its purchase.

Mr. Brooks apparently was fairly attached to the old idol, but he recognized the propriety of returning it to Windham. He did not, however, enter into any agreement until he had thoroughly investigated the Library Association and satisfied himself as to its character and permanency.

On June 22, 1905, Mr. Brooks signed a most peculiar deed turning ownership of Bacchus over to the Library association. Among other things, this deed provides for defending the image against all persons whatever and states that if any conditions of the deed are violated, "said image shall instantly become the property of the Connecticut Historical society of Hartford, Connecticut, who shall immediately take possession of same."

The association has apparently lived up to its end of the bargain, for Bacchus still greets all comers to the Windham Free Library with his enigmatic grin. Considering his strange history and many adventures, he clearly deserves his place of honor above the library door. Yet when one thinks about the jovial scenes over which he once presided and the gallons of ale that poured out of his keg before he became a "relic", one can't help wishing to hoist him up a yard of ale to quench his century old thirst and to toast the Windham of his birth, that town known far and wide for its many taverns, its friendly inhabitants, and its warm hospitality to passing strangers.

This article may be copied and distributed freely, provided that both the author and The Windham Phoenix are properly credited on all copies.

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