It was in 1781 that Captain Charles
Williamson, dissatisfied veteran of Britain's Twenty-Fifth Regiment,
first crossed the Atlantic, with letters of introduction to Lord
Cornwallis in his luggage. He received a warm welcome, not from
Cornwallis, but from the U. S. vessel Marquis of Salem; the former
captain found himself a prisoner of war for the duration. Being a
gentleman and a non-combatant, having sold his army commission, he was
sent not to an American prison, but to the much more pleasant confines
of the Ebenezer Newell home in Roxbury, Massachusetts. When he returned
to Britain at war's end, he was not alone. Accompanying him was the new
Mrs. Williamson, the former Abigail Newell. The new bridegroom had found
a wife and a homeland. He would return.
On January 9th, 1792, when Charles Williamson stepped out of a
Philadelphia courtroom into the brisk winter air, he was a new American
citizen and about to become a landowner, proprietor of one of the
largest pieces of property in the world, totaling close to 1,000,000
acres. (The two roles are not unrelated.) He had not been idle in the
intervening nine years. Williamson's father Alexander served as a factor
for the Earl of Hopetoun. Today we'd call the position a foreman or
overseer. As a Robertson, his mother had many family connections
including Sir William Pulteney and future Cabinet member Henry Dundas,
Lord Melville. Charles and Abigail were soon settled on a Hopetoun
estate at Balgray. He entered into politics and agricultural
experimentation. And he was bored; too much energy in too small a space.
He set off for London, seeking government service, through his family
connections. He was soon off on a journey, first to Marseilles, then to
the Balkans, where he gathered information on Russia and Turkey.
Returning to London he waited in vain for further government employment,
finally returning to Balgray, where he continued with his agricultural
pursuits and won the local Clackmannanshire election. And the energy
began building up again.
It was a legal restriction back in the former American colonies that
provided the outlet. Aliens could not own property in the U. S. The
Federalists, wishing to strengthen ties with the Mother Country, were
striving for repeal of the laws, but Thomas Jefferson's republican
adherents, distrusting the British, were adamantly opposed. So when
Williamson's relative Sir William Pulteney, reputedly the wealthiest man
in Britain, decided to invest in American real estate, he had to create
a loophole. There was only one way. Someone in his employ must become a
U. S. citizen, settle on the new lands, assume ownership and run the
enterprise. By the time he had purchased a million acres in western New
York State, he and his associates had been casting about for such an
employee. When Williamson came under consideration he had much to
recommend him. Family connections counted heavily, even in the New
World. He was familiar with government circles, knew the world outside
of Scotland and London, grew up in a family that was familiar with the
problems of running property, had worked with the most advanced farming
techniques and was bursting with ideas. And, he was willing to live in
foreign lands. (Abigail of course would be happy to return to her own
country).
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the rest of the story on David Minor's web site |