Irish Sympathy
The Irish in the American Revolution have their heroes and villains on both sides of the struggle. Although renowned for decades of resisting and fighting their British oppressors, there was no groundswell of Irish sentiment for the colonials fighting the far-off war. The average Irishman was just trying to survive and many were recruited into the British regiments in Ireland. And in America itself, the Irish immigrants, like the rest of the populace, were split in their sympathies. But one such transplanted son of Erin would play a secret role in helping free his adopted nation – and perhaps take some vengeance on the British.
Known until recently only to historians and a few “buffs” of Revolutionary War skullduggery, the name Hercules Mulligan gained worldwide fame through the hit Broadway musical, “Hamilton.” Indeed, Mulligan’s fate was intertwined with that controversial Revolutionary War officer, political operative, and Founding Father. For Hercules Mulligan and his family, in many ways, gave Alexander Hamilton the boost every new immigrant needs to take things to the next level.
Early Days
Hercules Mulligan came to New York City from Coleraine, County Antrim, Ireland, at the age of six, with his parents Hugh and Sarah Mulligan. The year was 1746 – long before the French and Indian War and all the political and economic events that would result in the struggle for America. Hercules's father quickly established himself as a successful New York accountant and the family thrived in the colonies. Along with Hercules came two brothers – of particular interest is his oldest brother Hugh, who became proprietor of an import-export business that took on as a clerk a callow youth from Nevis, one Alexander Hamilton.
Hercules attended King’s College (now Columbia) and became an accountant until he turned to the haberdashery business. His first shop was along Water Street but he later moved to the more fashionable Queen Street in 1773 so he could attract a more affluent and influential clientele. That same year, his brother Hugh introduced him to the young prodigy, Alexander Hamilton. Hercules took Hamilton under his wing. Hamilton even boarded with Mulligan and his family while he attended King’s College.
Secret Politics
While Hamilton’s politics were shaped at King’s College, it is unclear when and how Mulligan began to sympathize with the rebel cause. Perhaps latent Irish sympathies and anger at the cruel Penal Laws in his native land? Or was it the course of events that followed the French and Indian War – the same events that pulled over one-third of the king’s loyal subjects towards a different political system? But the connection, the bond, was clearly sealed in those early days of simmering revolutionary fervor.
At some point along the way, probably as early as 1765, Hercules helped pen an anti-Stamp Act underground tabloid called The Constitutional Courant. Mulligan later became a founding member of a radical wing of New York’s Sons of Liberty, organized to defend the colonists’ rights and resist British taxation. He was also was a participant, if not a leader, of the Sons of Liberty-inspired mob that, in 1770, attacked British soldiers in what was called the Battle of Golden Hill.
A Model Citizen
Although he had a secret political life, Hercules outwardly remained a member of the establishment. The young Irishman married well – his wife was Elizabeth Sanders, the niece of a Royal Navy admiral and a well-connected member of New York's elite. The gregarious Irishman utilized his wife's family connections to build his business to cultivate friends and acquaintances among New York’s upper crust – most of whom were staunch Loyalists. Later, when New York was garrisoned by increasing numbers of British regulars, he added a coterie of officers as both clientele and contacts.
The gregarious haberdasher placed elaborate ads in Rivington's Gazette and other prominent Tory papers - ads that would draw top-tier customers and officers with their descriptions of “superfine cloths, gold and silver lace, fancy buttons, and epaulets replete with heavy bouillon.” If you build it, they will come. And come they did. Selecting, cloth, accouterments, measuring, and fitting all took time. Time that could result in slips of tongue, nuggets, and the knowing winks of a proud and haughty clientele aimed at impressing the popular haberdasher.
Secret Rebel
Mulligan was at the center of an incident on 24 August 1775, an attempt on the HMS Asia, anchored in New York harbor. Under the cover of darkness, a band of New York militiamen, including Mulligan's company known as the "Corsicans," seized control of the artillery battery at the tip of the Island of New York (Manhattan). Hercules and his young boarder, Alexander Hamilton, were among them. But someone had alerted the crew of the HMS Asia and it unleashed its own guns on the rebels.
HMS Asia in New York harbor
Mulligan tossed a rope around one of the guns to pull it to safety. As he struggled, Hamilton approached and, small as he was, dragged the gun away. Hamilton then coolly rejoined the front lines to help move more guns – 20 were taken. Interestingly, one of the shots from the HMS Asia struck the roof of Fraunces Tavern – famed for later hosting General Washington’s farewell in 1783. With the support of Hercules, young Hamilton was promoted to captain and commander of an artillery battery in July the next year – just in time for the British onslaught on New York.
In 1776, Mulligan was one of the Sons of Liberty who tore down a huge statue of King George III in Bowling Green. They later melted down its lead into musket balls for rebel use. He had also joined the New York Committee of Correspondence, a key instrument in rallying support among the populace and keeping the colonies coordinated. An attempt to flee the city failed and Mulligan remained in New York after Washington's army was driven out during the New York campaign of summer 1776. By September of that year, New York was an occupied British city, and the situation called for more than political agitation – it called for espionage. But to do that effectively, Hercules would have to appear a Loyalist. As many flipped their allegiances during this time it did not raise much suspicion.
Tailor Spy
Exactly when our “model citizen” became a spy is still unclear. Fittingly, such things were not made a matter of record and secret agents often worked under a cover name, code name, or number. It is believed Alexander Hamilton suggested him to Washington while serving as aide de camp in 1777. But some sources do not have the haberdasher actually reporting to Washington until 1779. In any event, the transition was smooth, if not inevitable.
At his clothing shop, Mulligan would often measure his clients, chatting them up and picking up nuggets through elicitation. He also was very observant of military and political goings-on in the city. Years waging a secret political war had enabled Mulligan to hone the skills need to be an excellent intelligence operative in the occupied city.
As living quarters for men of means became tight in occupied (and fire-ravaged) New York, Hercules opened a few rooms in his home to British officers – an excellent way to avoid suspicion, develop leads, cultivate relationships and elicit intelligence.
There is some belief Mulligan reported through the Culper Ring – the Setauket, Long Island-based spy operation made famous by the fictional TV show, TURN. And he may have done so. The key collector for the ring, Robert Townsend, operated his establishment down the street from Mulligan’s haberdashery. But Hercules used other channels as well. In fact, Washington’s key intelligence officer and spymaster of the Culper Ring, Major Benjamin Tallmadge once queried the commander in chief as to Mulligan’s status and activities. He was concerned Mulligan's activities might pose a threat to his ring. He would not have made the query if Mulligan was one of his assets.
Courier
So how did Mulligan smuggle his intelligence out of the city? One way was through his African American servant, Cato. Cato’s status enabled him to pass through British lines without arousing too much interest as Africans were believed to be pro-British (and most were). It is held by some that Samuel Culper used Mulligan’s servant as an alternate reporting channel on at least one occasion. Cato made many trips across lines but on his last, he aroused enough suspicion to cause his detainers, probably local Loyalist militia, to beat him severely. Despite the brutal treatment, Cato did not give up his mission or his boss. As it was, Mulligan used his high contacts to get Cato released, although his courier days were over.
Fraternal Affair
Hercules’s older brother Hugh also had a hand in espionage. His import-export firm Kortwright & Company had business dealings with the British military and with many influential Tory merchants in New York. As a shipper, he could visit ships in port, look at facilities and track the movement of supplies – providing valuable information of future British operations.
Saving the Indispensable Man
There is little known about the specifics of Hercules Mulligan’s reports but he is credited with reporting intelligence that saved General George Washington’s life on at least two occasions. That alone could make him one of the most important people of the war.
On one occasion, a British officer came to Mulligan late in the evening seeking a coat. Hercules began showing him different coats, all the while bantering and questioning his customer, who carelessly spilled the beans – he was setting out to capture George Washington. Mulligan dispatched Cato as soon as the officer left – enabling Washington to move to safety.
The other time, the British learned of Washington’s plan to ride to Rhode Island along the Connecticut shoreline. By pure luck, Hugh Mulligan was contracted to provide supplies for the British vessels. He quickly informed his brother and once more Cato slipped out of the city to warn Washington.
Under Suspicion
The affable and well-connected Mulligan did come under a cloud of suspicion at (at least) one point during the war. Ironically, it came from the notorious traitor himself, Benedict Arnold. Arnold was now in New York with the rank of Brigadier General in the British Army. One of Arnold’s tasks as commander of the West Point garrison had been to help orchestrate collection against the British in and around New York City. In that capacity, he had some inkling the tailor might be one of General Washington's sources.
Washington was very good at “compartmentalizing” operations. Very few of even his closest confidants knew who his spies were and those who did had only the knowledge absolutely necessary.
Arnold had Hercules arrested. Having been interrogated twice previously by the British, Mulligan was able to deflect questioning and maintain his aplomb. These skills – combined with his reputation as a loyal subject and friend of the British, carried him through. And because Arnold had no actual evidence to back up his accusations our tailor-spy was soon released.
Under Suspicion (Again)
Hercules was a victim of his own success. Playing the loyal haberdasher to the British and Tories for almost eight years solidified his reputation as a collaborator among his fellow New Yorkers – a cynical lot by nature. Patriots and Whigs fingered him for an active Loyalist and traitor to the cause. After the British departed at the end of 1783, his thriving business and position in New York society were at great risk. Many Tories were run out of town and their properties confiscated. There was no reason this would not be the Irishman’s fate.
But the hand of His Excellency, General George Washington intervened. After the war, Washington is known to have quietly reached out to many hitherto unknowns and made it clear they fell under his special approbation. Many of these are believed to have been clandestine intelligence operatives: secret agents, spies, and couriers.
True Friend of Liberty
So while in New York City, a grateful George Washington visited Mulligan’s haberdashery, had breakfast with the man to whom his life was owed, and was fitted for a set of new clothes, dubbing the secret patriot “a true friend of liberty.” This act protected Mulligan from being labeled a British sympathizer and collaborator. Beaming with pride, Mulligan commissioned a sign, which he forever proudly displayed outside his 23 Queen Street (today 218 Pearl Street) store: “Clothier to Genl. Washington.”
Although Cato’s fate is unknown, Mulligan struggled for democratic ideals in post-war America and co-founded the New York Manumission Society along with his long-term friend, Alexander Hamilton. Our tailor-spy died in 1825 at age 80 and is buried next to Alexander Hamilton in Trinity Church.
