Roger Sherman Chapter NSDAR, inc. New Milford, Connecticut
Jeruel & Samuel Phillips
Jeruel: Born 1758 Died 1829
Samuel: Born 1745 Died 1815
Buried At Center Cemetery
Pray, good people, if I may be so bold as to tell you my story. My name is Jeruel Phillips. I was born right here in New Milford to the free man Benjamin Phillips, who moved here from Windham, Connecticut, with my mother, his second wife, Mary. I had three brothers, Reuben, Shubael, and my older half-brother, Samuel. All four of us men fought for the promise of liberty during the American Revolution.
During our time, lives for black folk like us weren’t easy. Though Connecticut was a small colony that never had the large numbers of slaves that defined so many of the southern colonies, involuntary servitude was present. The whites first used Indians as slaves, but escaped Indian slaves had a good chance of finding refuge among nearby tribes, and white masters increasingly relied on African slaves for their forced labor. The numbers of slaves were relatively small until around 1749, when wealthier merchants, farmers, and professionals could buy slaves to work, especially in their homes. By 1774, the thriving seaport town of New London had more than 500 blacks, most of them slaves - more than any other town in the colony.
The lives of black slaves were strictly controlled. They were not allowed to go beyond the town limits without written permission from their masters or local magistrates. A 1708 law stated, “that if a negro or mulatto servant or slave disturb the peace, or shall offer to strike any person….. [he] shall be punished by whipping…. not exceeding thirty stripes for one offense. The lives of black slaves were strictly controlled. They were not allowed to go beyond the town limits without written permission from their masters or local magistrates. A 1708 law stated, “that if a negro or mulatto servant or slave disturb the peace, or shall offer to strike any white person… [he] shall be punished by whipping… not exceeding thirty stripes for one offense.”
Nevertheless, slaves did enjoy some legal rights that put them a step above their counterparts in the South. Most slaves, whether field hand or house servant, lived in the master’s house. A 1730 law spelled out a slave’s rights to file legal complaints and give evidence in court. The children of slaves were taught to read, and blacks were allowed to be baptized in Congregational churches. Slaves attended the same churches as their masters but, predictably, had to sit in a separate section.
Of course, not all blacks were slaves. Free blacks like my family could own property and work at any job we had the skills for. Though things were not easy for black Americans, in the late 1700s many of us were invested in the patriotic cause and the great promise of liberty. In April of 1775, when war broke out in Massachusetts after the shots that rang out at Lexington and Concord, Connecticut Governor John Trumbull met with the General Assembly to create an army. I enlisted in the 4th Connecticut Regiment on July 20, 1775, serving under Captain Isaac Bostwick.
We were stationed along the Sound for two months, then ordered to the Boston Camps where we were assigned to General Sullivan’s Brigade on Winter Hill and remained there until December 21. I reenlisted in April 1776 and entered into Colonel Charles Webb’s 19th Continental Regiment. We marched to New York from Boston. In August we were ordered to the Brooklyn front.
On October 28th we engaged with the British at the Battle of White Plains. On that day George Washington’s army was attacked by British forces under the command of William Howe. American skirmishers tried to slow the British advance, and when the Redcoats finally arrived we held up to repeated assaults. Just imagine the scene: the crack of the muskets was deafening and the fields before us were covered in a thick, acrid smoke from the gunfire. Despite valiant efforts, a Hessian force (barbarous German mercenaries hired by the British) eventually broke through our lines and our defenses unraveled. Washington was defeated and we were forced to withdraw. New York City, to our unending despair, was lost.
The following months were difficult. We were in constant retreat, food was scarce, and the winter cold bit at our flesh. Many began to lose hope and feared the patriotic cause was lost. Washington knew morale was low, and he asked us soldiers to take part in one more daring effort. On Christmas night, the General ordered us to cross the icy Delaware River in boats under the cover of darkness. Our target was a garrison of those hated Hessian soldiers at Trenton, New Jersey, who we believed would be up late drinking and celebrating the holiday. Washington’s plan worked beautifully. The Hessians were caught completely unprepared. Some Hessians managed to escape, but most were captured. While leading his troops, Hessian commander Colonel Johann Rall was mortally wounded. Before he died, he formally surrendered to Washington.
The war, though, was far from over. In March, 1777, I enlisted in the 7th Connecticut Regiment and served under Captain Elizur Warner’s Company in Colonel Swift’s Regiment. Our regiment saw action at the Battle of Brandywine, Battle of Germantown and the Battle of Monmouth.
After the war I continued to live in New Milford. I died in 1829 and am buried in Center Cemetery, long with my half-brother, Samuel. When you go by there, please remember us and the sacrifices we and hundreds of other black soldiers made in the cause of independence. The white patriots of our days regularly spoke of their fears of losing freedom and being enslaved, and if they knew the realities of the words they spoke it was because they saw the degradation and the servitude of the blacks around them. What they fought against in theory was for so many of us a reality.
