The Second Company Governor’s Foot Guard of Connecticut did not stop for a latte as they paraded toward the Green.
The all-volunteer Colonial re-enactors, who hail from Greater New Haven and across the state, marked the 233rd observance of what’s known as Powder Day Saturday.
The original day occurred in April 1775, when Captain Benedict Arnold, commander of the militia, marched his troops across the Green to demand the keys of the powder house so he might equip the citizen soldiers to join their revolutionary confreres in Cambridge, Mass.
Not so fast there, Benedict, said Colonel David Wooster, when that hotheaded patriot Arnold (soon to take an unpatriotic turn) arrived on the steps of City Hall. Can’t we in effect cool it? said the moderate Colonel Wooster (after whom the gorgeous cherry blossomed park is named), and wait for our sister militias to arm? Then go with them, in a deliberate, studied manner? Not just rush off, as it were, half-cocked.
No way, cried Arnold, who clearly was a Type A patriot. The battalion took a threatening step forward across City Hall steps, and huzzahed martially to the delight of dozens of passersby on Church Street.
Then when ten loud cannon shots rang out across the great historic Green, and Arnold declared, “Only God almighty will stop us. I demand our powder,” Wooster knew Arnold could not be mollified.
He went to get the first selectman, who possessed the keys to the warehouse where gunpowder was store.
The whole re-enactment was nicely scripted. The battalion members, in their fine get-ups (which they individually pay for), numbered among them many women, including female officers, who were addressed by the guys as “ma’am” with big voices.
Out came the first selectman and he was … ah, and who was playing the first selectman?
Yes, Mayor DeStefano in the role he has played for 14 years. Alas, he was in a blue suit and handsome, tasseled loafers, not of the kind likely to be worn by the buckled-shoed selectman of old. But he immediately got into character and seemed to do a double-take as he faced the withering glance of Benedict Arnold.
“Uh, is it my turn?” he was heard to say to the Colonial prompter.
Then, he got with the swing and came into character as he saw the battalion and its band with sunlight glinting off trumpets and tubas. There was no way he could refuse the will of the people, was there? So he declared, “I’ve been telling them up in Hartford for years, that we in New Haven are just not getting our share of the powder. Powder in Lieu of Payment. Why don’t they listen….”
Actually, he didn’t say that Saturday.
While such may have been going through the mayoral brain, Captain Arnold was bellowing at him: “Sir, we demand powder!”
“Since the powder belongs to the people,” actually replied First Selectman DeStefano, “we will give it to you. Here are the keys.”
And with that, they marched off across the street to parade on the Green where the selectman, reconciled to the militia, reviewed the battalion.
Is there any lesson, in terms of aldermanic-mayoral procedures or decision-making, to be learned from the re-enactment? On this matter, the mayor, beaming and enjoying the company, remained mum.