James Andrews’ name isn’t carved into a stone. No marker points to where he rests, and we can’t even say with confidence that he ever set foot in Delaware County. Fortunately, we can say he served. Thanks to the memories preserved by his sons -both of whom stepped forward in 1850 to testify to their father’s Revolutionary War service- we have just enough information to keep his story from slipping through the cracks. If we don’t speak Andrews’ name, claim him as Delaware County’s own, and share what little we know, then his chapter might fade into silence.Â
To mark the United States’ 250th birthday, the Daughters of the American Revolution has joined forces with America250, the nationwide commemoration of our country’s semiquincentennial, to pay tribute to Revolutionary War Patriots. As part of the celebration, I’ll be sharing the stories of those laid to rest in Delaware County, with help from Kathi Hirons Kesterson -the regent of the Paul Revere Chapter of Muncie’s DAR– over the next several Fridays.
In 1850, one of James Andrews’ sons -Samuel D. Andrews- stood before Delaware County Justice of the Peace Joel Swain to preserve his father’s story. Samuel testified that James had enlisted in the Continental Army under Captain Thomas Brady in or near Philadelphia when he was just eighteen1.
The details were hazy after so many decades, and Samuel couldn’t recall the names of the other officers his father served under, but a few memories had stayed stubbornly vivid. James Andrews had fought at Trenton and at Long Island2, Samuel said, and he bore the proof on his own body: a three-inch saber cut from a British light horseman, carved into his scalp and carried with him all the way to his grave3.
Samuel Andrews added one final, painful detail: after serving at least five years, his father had been honorably discharged. Unfortunately, the proof of that long service -the papers that could have secured him a pension or a land grant- vanished when James’ home went up in flames4. With those documents lost, so too went his chance at any benefits Andrews had earned. James Andrews gave years of his youth to the Revolution, yet he lived and died without ever receiving a single dollar or acre in return.
James Andrews’ second son, William P. Andrews, added more color to his father’s story when he came to George Bane, another Justice of the Peace in Delaware County. According to William’s 1850 testimony, his father was an orphan who was bound out to indentured servitude in Bucks County, Pennsylvania. His master was drafted and offered him freedom if Andrews would serve as his substitute. James accepted and entered service5.
After completing his stint as a substitute soldier, James Andrews returned home near Philadelphia only to cross paths with a recruiting officer who changed the course of his life. The chance meeting convinced Andrews to enlist for a five-year term in the Continental Army, but ultimately served even longer before receiving his honorable discharge6. William backed up Samuel’s testimony, confirming both the loss of those crucial discharge papers in the house fire and the battles their father never forgot, Trenton and Long Island. William added one more to the list- Monmouth, a fight James spoke of often7.
Samuel Andrews believed that his father died in November 1813. William corrected this, though, stating that his father died in November 1816. Despite their statements and affidavit, though, neither James Andrews nor his widow or heirs ever received a pension or bounty land from the United States government. He’d died before the program came into existence.
Today, James Andrews slips through the official record- unmarked, unclaimed, and uncompensated. Fortunately, he’s not unnoticed. Thanks to the voices of his sons and the fragments they carried forward, we can still trace the outline of a young orphan who stepped into the chaos of a revolution, served beyond the call of duty, and bore its wounds for the rest of his life. Andrews may not have left Delaware County a headstone or a pension file, but his legacy is one of grit and sacrifice that deserves to be remembered. By gathering these scattered threads and placing his story alongside Delaware County’s other Patriots, we give Andrews what history denied him: a place, a presence, and a promise that his service won’t fade into silence.
Sources Cited
1 James Andrews (Pennsylvania), pension no. R.213, Revolutionary War Pension and Bounty-Land Warrant Application Files; digital images, F ol d 3.com (https://www.fold3.com : accessed 26 November 2025), from NARA microfilm publication M804, Revolutionary War Pension and Bount y-Land Warrant Application Files, roll 0062; NARA catalog ID 300022, Record Group 15. Transcribed by Kathryn Kesterson.
2 (See footnote 1).
3 (See footnote 1).
4 (See footnote 1).
5 (See footnote 1).
6 (See footnote 1).
7 (See footnote 1).
After reading a few of these, it’s kind of remarkable that the Continental Army would not have maintained some records that could have given credence to at least some claims of service.
I get the idea that it was very slap-dash.
I guess there is a point in favor of Germans and Romans. 😛