Lantern Hill

NEARLY 600 FEET above sea level, its summit of bare granite flecked with quartz crystals glittering in the sun, Lantern Hill (or Tar Barrel Hill, as it is also called) in North Stonington has served as both landmark and lookout since the first peoples came to this region where the continent meets the sea. Tradition says that it has served fishermen and deepwater sailors as a day-beacon, guiding them safely into the eastern Long Island Sound ports like Mystic or Stonington, from the earliest days of maritime activity on the coast. Since the shimmering, white summit can be seen from many miles at sea on a clear, sunny day, the landmark tradition probably has a sound basis in historical fact.
By the same token, on a clear day observers on the gleaming peak of Lantern Hill can see five states -- New York, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Vermont -- as well as more than a hundred miles of coastal waters. Sassacus, the fierce Pequot chieftain, was said to have stood on the summit many times, squinting seaward, eternally watching for the approach of enemy war canoes, or landward, seeking signs of hostile Narragansett campfires.
But it was an incident that occurred during the War of 1812 that finally gave this unusual height of land the names it is still known by today. Fearful of enemy naval attacks along the Connecticut coast, the people of Stonington had maintained a round-the-clock watch from the top of Lantern Hill since the troubles with England began. Then, in April of 1814, several hundred British sailors and marines had landed at nearby Pettipaug Point (Essex) on the Connecticut River and systematically destroyed an estimated $200,000 worth of property, including some twenty ships. When word of the Essex raid reached the Stonington area a short time later, the vigilance of the lookouts on Lantern Hill intensified and a system of warning the eastern shoreline villages of impending attack was implemented.
Huge hogsheads of tar -- the same kind used to preserve manila lines aboard ship -- were hauled to the summit of Lantern Hill. If a lookout spotted any sign of enemy sail, the men on watch were to put a torch to all the tar barrels, as a warning of imminent danger. The flames from such "lanterns" could, of course, be seen for many miles around. On the bright night of August 11, 1814, the tar barrel lanterns on top of the hill began to flicker. Immediately, the people of Stonington went into action. Women, children and the elderly quickly packed a few personal belongings into wagons and carts and hurried inland that very night, to seek refuge with friends or relatives in the country. The able men and militia headed for the waterfront to prepare the cannon for firing. When the dawn revealed a large British fleet standing into the harbor, apparently ready to land troops for a raid, the little village was ready, thanks to the timely warning.
For two days the British naval vessels milled about in the harbor, pounding the coastal defenses with an estimated sixty tons of cannon balls and shot. But the expected landing never came. When the enemy realized that their softening-up bombardment was having little effect on the Americans (who seemed only too well-prepared to defend themselves), the English broke off their attack, set sail for open sea and disappeared below the horizon.
Ever since frustrating the British raid at Stonington, its citizens have taken understandable delight in poet Philip Freneau's lines on the battle: It cost the King ten thousand pounds To have a dash at Stonington. And ever since, the place from which the crucial early warning was flashed has been called Lantern (or Tar Barrel) Hill.

from Legendary Connecticut by David E. Philips / ISBN 1-880684-05-5 / $17.95

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