Irish Sympathy
The Irish in the American Revolution had their heroes and villains on both sides of the conflict. Although they were renowned for decades of resisting and fighting their British oppressors, there was little Irish sentiment for the colonials fighting the distant war. The average Irishman was just trying to survive, and many were recruited into British regiments in Ireland. In America itself, Irish immigrants, like the rest of the population, were divided in their loyalties. However, one such transplanted son of Erin would play a secret role in helping to free his adopted nation – and perhaps exact some vengeance on the British.
Until recently known only to historians and a few enthusiasts of Revolutionary War intrigue, 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, provided Alexander Hamilton the boost every new immigrant needs to reach the next level.
Early Days
Hercules Mulligan moved 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 lead to the struggle for America. Hercules's father quickly became a successful accountant in New York, and the family thrived in the colonies. Along with Hercules came two brothers; of particular interest is his oldest brother Hugh, who became the proprietor of an import-export business that employed a callow youth from Nevis, one Alexander Hamilton.
Hercules attended King’s College (now Columbia) and became an accountant before switching to the haberdashery business. His first shop was located on Water Street, but he later moved to the more fashionable Queen Street in 1773 to 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, and Hamilton boarded with Mulligan and his family while attending King’s College.
Secret Politics
While Hamilton’s politics were shaped at King’s College, it remains unclear when and how Mulligan began to sympathize with the rebel cause. Perhaps latent Irish sympathies and resentment toward the cruel Penal Laws in his native land played a role? Or was it the events following the French and Indian War – the same events that drew over one-third of the king’s loyal subjects toward a different political system? However, the connection and bond were clearly established during 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 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 and cultivate friendships 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 designed to attract top-tier customers and officers with 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 lead to slips of the tongue, nuggets, and the knowing winks of a proud and haughty clientele aiming to impress the popular haberdasher.
Secret Rebel
Mulligan was at the center of an incident on August 24, 1775, an attempt against the HMS Asia, which was anchored in New York Harbor. Under the cover of darkness, a group of New York militiamen, including Mulligan's company known as the "Corsicans," took control of the artillery battery at the southern tip of New York Island (Manhattan). Hercules and his young boarder, Alexander Hamilton, were among them. However, someone had alerted the crew of the HMS Asia, and it fired 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 following 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 large statue of King George III in Bowling Green. They later melted its lead into musket balls for the rebels' use. He also joined the New York Committee of Correspondence, a key tool 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 the summer of 1776. By September of that year, New York was an occupied British city, and the situation required more than political agitation – it called for espionage. But to do that effectively, Hercules would have to appear as a Loyalist. As many switched their allegiances during this time, it did not raise much suspicion.
Tailor Spy
Exactly when our “model citizen” became a spy remains unclear. Fittingly, such matters were not made a matter of record, and secret agents often operated 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. However, some sources indicate that the haberdasher did not actually report to Washington until 1779. In any case, the transition was smooth, if not inevitable.
At his clothing shop, Mulligan often measured his clients, chatting with them and picking up insights through elicitation. He was also very observant of military and political happenings in the city. Years of waging a secret political war had enabled Mulligan to hone the skills needed to be an excellent intelligence operative in the occupied city.
As living quarters for well-off men became scarce 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 that 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. However, 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 about Mulligan’s status and activities. He was concerned that Mulligan's activities might pose a threat to his ring. He would not have made the inquiry 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 allowed him to pass through British lines without drawing too much attention, as Africans were thought to be pro-British (and most were). Some believe that Samuel Culper used Mulligan’s servant as an alternative reporting channel on at least one occasion. Cato made many trips across the lines, but on his last one, he drew enough suspicion to lead his captors, likely local Loyalist militia, to beat him severely. Despite the brutal treatment, Cato did not abandon his mission or his boss. In the end, Mulligan used his high contacts to secure Cato's release, although his courier days were over.
Fraternal Affair
Hercules’s older brother, Hugh, was also involved in espionage. His import-export firm, Kortwright & Company, conducted business with the British military and many influential Tory merchants in New York. As a shipper, he could visit ships in port, inspect facilities, and track the movement of supplies—providing valuable information on future British operations.
Saving the Indispensable Man
Little is known about the specifics of Hercules Mulligan’s reports, but he is credited with providing 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 joking and questioning his customer, who carelessly spilled the beans – he was planning to capture George Washington. Mulligan dispatched Cato as soon as the officer left, allowing 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 sheer luck, Hugh Mulligan was contracted to provide supplies for the British vessels. He quickly informed his brother, and once again, 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 least once during the war. Ironically, this suspicion came from the notorious traitor himself, Benedict Arnold. Arnold was now in New York, holding the rank of Brigadier General in the British Army. One of Arnold’s tasks as commander of the West Point garrison was to help orchestrate resistance against the British in and around New York City. In that role, he had some inkling that the tailor might be one of General Washington's sources.
Washington excelled at “compartmentalizing” operations. Very few of 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 before by the British, Mulligan managed to deflect questioning and maintain his composure. These skills—combined with his reputation as a loyal subject and friend of the British—carried him through. Since Arnold had no actual evidence to support his accusations, our tailor-spy was soon released.
Under Suspicion (Again)
Hercules was a victim of his own success. By serving as the loyal haberdasher to the British and Tories for almost eight years, he solidified his reputation as a collaborator among his fellow New Yorkers—a cynical group by nature. Patriots and Whigs accused him of being an active Loyalist and a traitor to the cause. After the British left at the end of 1783, his thriving business and position in New York society were at significant risk. Many Tories were run out of town, and their properties were confiscated. There was no reason to believe 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 previously unknown individuals 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
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 new set of 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 that he proudly displayed outside his 23 Queen Street (now 218 Pearl Street) store: “Clothier to Genl. Washington.”
Although Cato’s fate is unknown, Mulligan fought for democratic ideals in post-war America and co-founded the New York Manumission Society with his long-time friend, Alexander Hamilton. Our tailor-spy died in 1825 at age 80 and is buried next to Alexander Hamilton in Trinity Church.
