THE OTHER RIDE OF PAUL REVERE: THE BROKERAGE ROLE
IN THE MAKING OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION*

Shin-Kap Han†

The celebrated tale of his “Midnight Ride” notwithstanding, Paul Revere’s role in the events
leading up to the American Revolution remains rather obscure. Joseph Warren, known as theman who sent Revere on that ride, presents a similar quandary. What was the nature of theroles they played in the mobilization process? I address the question from a social structural
perspective, reassessing the evidence and reconsidering the key concept of brokerage. The
analysis shows that these men were bridges par excellence, spanning the various social
chasms and connecting disparate organizational elements of the movement, thus bringing
together “men of all orders” to forge an emerging movement.

Notwithstanding the celebrated tale of his “Midnight Ride,” Paul Revere’s role in the complexof events leading up to the American Revolution remains rather obscure. The few who havedelved into this gap in the historical narrative suggest that Revere’s real importance is not to
be found in that one spectacular exploit (Countryman 1985; Fischer 1994; Forbes 1942;
Triber 1998). What then was his importance, if any? In other words, if Revere was more thana messenger who just happened upon the assignment to ride to Lexington on that fateful nightof April 18-19, 1775, and if he indeed had “an uncanny genius for being at the center of
events” (Fischer 1994: xv), what exactly was the role he played? Joseph Warren, known mostly
as the man who sent Revere on that ride, presents a similar quandary (Cary 1961; Truax
1968). What was his role? Also, what was his relationship with Revere in the context of theincipient movement?
Using the membership rosters of key Whig groups and supplementary secondary data, I
address these questions by examining the underlying relational structure that created
opportunities for Revere and Warren in the mobilization process. The analysis shows that
Paul Revere’s genius was in his being a bridge par excellence. The role Joseph Warren played
was of the same kind, welding the movement as a whole. Both men were bridges that spanned
the various social chasms and connected disparate organizational elements, helping to forge
an emerging movement that gave rise to the American Revolution. The effectiveness of thebrokerage they provided in linking the microlevel interactions to the macrolevel mobilization
was due mainly to the fact that the network they were embedded in was highly multiplex, andthe positions they occupied in it were singularly instrumental. Moreover, they complemented
each other as structural doubles. This is the other ride of Paul Revere and Joseph Warren—far
less known, yet, I argue, much more crucial.
While this article revolves around Revere and Warren, it is not simply about who the two
individuals are; rather, it is about why and how they mattered to the underlying structure, andin turn, to the outcome of the movement (Gould 1995; Granovetter 1973). Also, the study
shifts the focus away from the single episode of the ride to the overall social and organi_______________________*

An earlier version of this article was presented at the 99th Annual Meeting of the American Sociological Associationin San Francisco, CA. For their helpful comments and suggestions, I thank Ruth Aguilera, Michael Biggs, Ron
Breiger, Ron Burt, Robert David, John Dencker, Bonnie Erickson, Douglass Grbic, Satoshi Kanazawa, Tim Liao,
Clark McPhail, Keun-Young Park, and Philippa Pattison.
†
Shin-Kap Han is Associate Professor of Sociology at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. Please direct
all correspondence to skh@illinois.edu.
© 2009 Mobilization: An International Quarterly 14(2): 143-162

Mobilization

144

zational structures in the broader historical context of the mobilization process, providing an
opportunity to reassess their places in the historiography of the American Revolution. Whiledrawing from the literature on social networks and social movements, it focuses, in particular,
on the intersection between the two. More specifically, it takes information on organizational
membership as a source of network data, allowing a range of systematic analytical tools to beof use. Also, by locating brokerage in a setting decoupled from the usual frame of reference ofindividual competitive incentives, it provides a fresh vantage point to reconsider the conceptof brokerage.
In the following section, I review the literature on social networks with a focus onbridging in general and brokerage in particular, establishing the theoretical basis of the article.
The literature on social movements pertinent to the issues at hand is also reviewed, placing
Revere and Warren’s roles in the context of mobilization. Next, the historical setting is laidout. I first discuss the social structure in New England—Boston, Massachusetts, more
specifically—of the eighteenth century. There were many fault lines—political, economic,
and social—that posed significant challenges to the mobilization effort. When those lines
crosscut one another, Paul Revere and Joseph Warren found themselves straddling them.
Also, the organizational structure of the revolutionary movement in Boston, consisting ofvarious groups and their loosely connected networks, is examined. Its fragile structure lent a
crucial importance to Revere and Warren’s roles. In the analysis section, I look at the network
structure among the various organizations and their members in the movement. The analysis
clearly identifies the roles played by Revere and Warren, who, through their extensively
overlapping and highly multiplex memberships, served as linchpins between various organizations and segments. In spite of the differences in their social background, their positions in
the network were quite close to one other—close enough to serve the mobilization effort as
structural doubles. Finally, in the concluding section, I sum up the findings and consider someof their substantive and theoretical implications.

HOW BRIDGING TIES WORK
Often invoked in recent discussions of brokerage is Granovetter’s argument in his article,“The Strength of Weak Ties” (1973). It starts with the well-established relationship between
the degree of overlap between two individuals’ networks and the strength of their tie to one
another. The two vary directly with each other: the stronger the tie connecting the two, themore overlap between them. A key insight of this argument is that these micro processes
generate a paradox at the macro level. Strong ties tend to be concentrated within groups thatare homogeneous and close-knit, yet the local clustering they breed within each group is
likely to result in global fragmentation between groups. Weak ties, on the other hand, tend to
cross group boundaries, connecting members of discrete groups. As a result, it is difficult toreach beyond group boundaries without them. In terms of providing linkages between groups,
it follows, strong ties are weak and weak ties are strong. Note that the strength of weak ties
lies in their bridging social distance (Granovetter 1973, 1983), which is determined by where
they are located in the network and whom they are connecting. Hence, not all weak ties arestrong; weak ties are strong only if they bridge non-overlapping groups, or “nonredundant
clusters” (Burt 1992).1
Cohesion of the network as a whole, which is frequently a key goal of many mobilization
efforts, is possible when the locally clustered groups brought about by the strong ties arelinked by the weak ties bridging them. This “bridge-and-cluster” structure is why “smallworld” networks easily and quickly obtain high levels of overall cohesiveness with theintroduction of a few weak ties, called “short cuts” (Watts 1999; Watts and Strogatz 1998).
Network structure as such, however, is only a necessary—rather than a necessary andsufficient—condition for mobilization on a large scale, for it cannot act on its own. It onlyPaul Revere145

creates a structural circumstance in which certain positions are provided with opportunities tolink others—or, equally importantly, to prevent such links from being forged (Gould andFernandez 1989: 98). Unless these opportunities are taken up and acted upon, network
structure by itself cannot produce the desired effect (Burt 1992: 36-38). The historical context
and Paul Revere and Joseph Warren’s roles within it offer a prime case of this bridge-andcluster structure at work, where Granovetter’s core implication (1973, 1983) is clearly demonstrated.
Brokerage and Incentive
In the literature on social networks, such a role has typically been framed and analyzed interms of brokerage, which Marsden succinctly defines as a process “by which intermediary
actors facilitate transactions between other actors lacking access to or trust in one another”(1982: 202). While adopting this general formulation to examine the historical material on
Revere and Warren’s roles, I take note of a couple of conceptual issues that their case brings
to light for clarification and reassessment.
First, one of the key foci in research on brokerage has been on showing that brokers cangain by charging commissions for facilitating the exchanges, as in Burt’s tertius gaudens—
literally, “the third who benefits” (1992: 30). Brokers’ rent from intermediation has beenfound in a wide range of empirical settings: they achieve better outcomes, for example, interms of higher power, faster career advancement, and more creative ideas (Burt 2004;
Padgett and Ansell 1993; Podolny and Baron 1997). Second, the structural condition thatprivileges the brokerage position is the absence of relations, or the presence of “structural
holes” (Burt 1992), between the actors. In other words, “the feat of bridging differentiatedspheres depends on the spheres first being separate” (Granovetter 2002: 46), and themechanism works only as long as these holes are kept from being closed up. Hence, thebroker who extracts rent from his mediating role has a vested interest in keeping the otherparties apart so that he can continue to monopolize the channel through which they can beconnected (Boissevain 1974; Granovetter 2002).2
Conceived as such, the incentives for brokerage appear to be set against realizing its
potential for large-scale mobilization. However, the element of commission—whether
implicitly presumed, as in the prevalent metaphor of the broker as an opportunistic entrepreneur, or explicitly stated, as “tariff” (Boissevain 1974) or “competitive advantage” (Burt
2000)—is not structurally prerequisite for the brokerage mechanism to operate (Gould andFernandez 1989: 91; Burt 1992: 37). More importantly, this narrow focus on the value capture
element in brokerage glosses over its complement—the value creation element. The
brokerage roles Revere and Warren played were not of the conventional kind. For one, little
tangible gains accrued for either of them personally. The real beneficiary was the movement
as a whole.3 Also, they actively brought the various actors together and closed the holes
between them, rendering their brokerage positions obsolete for overall consolidation. To
locate the case of Revere and Warren, then, the scope of brokerage needs to be broadened toencompass noncompetitive settings and its incentives redefined accordingly. In that sense, thecase provides a theoretical corrective to recalibrate the conceptual scope of brokerage as it
relates to the issue of incentive.
Brokerage in the Context of Mobilization
With this recalibration, the core idea of brokerage can be readily extended to avariety of substantive settings. Among them, most pertinent to understanding the roles
played by Revere and Warren, is the area of social movements. The roles of brokerage
and, more broadly, those of social networks have been an important focus in the recent
literature, especially for those in the resource mobilization perspective (Diani and146

Mobilization

McAdam 2003; Gould 1995; Jenkins 1983; McAdam, McCarthy, and Zald 1988; Pfaff
1996). In reaching beyond group boundaries and connecting members of different groups,
bridging ties provide micro-macro linkages in the mobilization process (Granovetter
1973, 1983; Gans 1974a, 1974b). As such, they are crucial for any large-scale mobilization efforts, and conversely, those that lack such ties are likely to be severely handicapped in effecting “scale shifts” (McAdam, Tarrow, and Tilly 2001: 332-35). The
likelihood of successful large-scale collective action is therefore expected to be higher inthe bridge-and-cluster structures discussed earlier (Granovetter 2002; McAdam, Tarrow,
and Tilly 2001).
In employing this general idea for the particular context at hand, I take into account
three substantive issues, adding layers to the workings of bridging ties in the context ofmobilization. First, the process by which social ties influence mobilization structures
does not operate exclusively at the individual level (Gould 1991; Hedström, Sandell, andStern 2000). Network effects also operate at the organizational and interorganizational
levels (Fernandez and McAdam 1989; Klandermans 1997; McAdam, McCarthy, and Zald
1988; Tarrow 1994). Organizations form ties to other organizations through overlapping
affiliations of members (Breiger 1974) and constitute “multiorganizational fields” (Curtis
and Zurcher 1973). As the bases of collective action and movement mobilization, theirimportance has been documented in a range of settings (see, for example, Mische 2007;
Morris 1984; Oberschall 1993; Osa 2003; Rosenthal, Fingrutd, Ethier, Karant, andMcDonald 1985; Taylor 1986; Walsh 1988).
Second, in terms of both interest and identity, appeals for mobilization confront “abasic indeterminacy in the dimensions along which the relational basis of solidarity canbe defined, with a corresponding indeterminacy in the placement of group boundaries”(Gould 1995: 17), for there is more than one way in which people can view their social
positions relative to others. Only rarely will diverse social relations align to jointly influence solidarity and commitment to social movements. When they do, they link actors
across different role domains, allowing the resources embedded in one relationship to beappropriated for use in others (Coleman 1988). The issue of multiplexity is thus critical
to identifying the mode and site of the organizational process in the context of mobilization (see, for example, Gould 1991, 1993; Traugott 1980).
Last, since the power that bridging ties have to facilitate or block large-scale mobilization is of a particular kind that draws from being located between the groups (Burt
1977; Cook, Emerson, Gillmore, and Yamagishi 1983; Freeman 1977, 1979; Gould andFernandez 1989), it is likely that brokers will be marginal to the groups they bridge(Granovetter 1973; Simmel 1955). Those who serve this role are, as a result, not necessarily prominent, well-known figures, and it is common that formal leadership positions
and broker positions often do not coincide with each other (Diani 2003). Rather thancharismatic public-opinion leaders (Katz and Lazarsfeld 1955; Weimann 1982), they are
more likely to be “shopkeepers and bartenders” (Gans 1974b; Jacobs 1993) or “organizing
cadres” (Freeman 1973).
These issues are taken into account in formulating the analysis as follows. First,
technically, the analysis uses the data on ties between organizations through theircommon members. Second, it addresses the substantive questions of how the various
dividing lines intersected one another and where along those lines Revere and Warren
were at the time. Third, the historical account in the analysis is framed to mark the roles
Revere and Warren played, which were of little visibility, but of much significance.
Within this analytical frame, in the following two sections I describe the opportunities
that existed and how Revere and Warren—and the movement as a whole—took advantage of them.

Paul Revere147

TO MUSTER
The Better Sort, The Lower Sort
In designating the complex of events during the late eighteenth century in the British
American colonies as the American Revolution, one is led to subscribe to the view that thecountry was united and that Americans directed their anger and fire at the British during theperiod. This after-the-fact presumption of cohesive and discrete collective identity—as in“Rebels vs. Redcoats”—obscures an important aspect of the mobilization process, particularly
in its early stages. As John Adams noted, Americans were divided—“one third Tories, and[one] third timid, and one third true blue” (McCullough 2001: 78). First, a large portion
remained faithful to the Crown and was definitely not in favor of causing an overt rift
between themselves and Britain.4 Another third, representing a sizeable number of Americans, did not or would not have an opinion on the Revolution. In fact, as late as 1773, the vast
majority of people still did not know which side they belonged to (Forbes 1942). Mobilizing
for the Whig cause thus meant competing against the institutionalized authority for the hearts
and minds of the divided and uncertain populace. It was a formidable challenge to galvanize
them for the “Great and Common Cause” (McCullough 2001: 20) and maintain a unified
resistance capable of mounting an effective insurgency (Brown 1970; Countryman 1985;
Forbes 1942; Gross 2001; Maier 1991). In the face of these difficulties, mobilizing even one
third was a feat that required hard organizational work.
Given this division, it was imperative for the movement to broaden its social basis and tomobilize “men of all orders” for the patriot cause (Maier 1991; Triber 1998). The mostimposing difficulty was presented by social divide. By the eighteenth century, the colonialsocial structure was showing an increasing degree of complexity and differentiation(Lockridge 1968; Pole 1962). Patterned on the English model of social hierarchy, theinvidious distinction along class lines was readily noticeable in terms of wealth, power, andhonor. During the period, it was customary to separate men into the “better, middling, andinferior” sorts (Aronson 1964; Fischer 1989). At the top of this social hierarchy were thelanded gentry, and in New England, the great traders—the “merchant princes” (Aronson
1964). Rounding out the upper class were the successful professional men—lawyers, doctors,
and ministers. While the exact position varied somewhat by colony and by period, they
formed a community united by ties of kinship and marriage in each colony (Fischer 1989).
Occupying the intermediate position in the prestige hierarchy was a substantial group ofartisans, manufacturers, sea captains, shopkeepers, and tavern keepers (Aronson 1964; Forbes
1942). The most important group, numerically at least, was farmers, who comprised about 90
percent of the population. At the bottom, ordinary free laborers, together with poorer farmers,
tenants, and servants, were included among the lower or inferior sort of people (Main 1965;
Rosswurm 1989).
There were strict rules of social deference between these groups, and by and large, people
accepted the existence of rank and privilege as part of the natural order (Fischer 1989; Gross
2001). On the other hand, the chasms dividing them were wide and deep, where thecondescension of the better sort was often met by the resentment of the lower sort(Countryman 1985; Forbes 1942; McCullough 2001; Triber 1998). The divide could havebeen a pernicious one for the movement. In fact, the resistance often took the form of either
popular uprisings or petitions to the Crown, each initiated respectively by the lower and better
sorts. They did not, however, join their forces, which was precisely what kept them frommounting an effective resistance. To mobilize men of all orders meant, more than anythingelse, to span this divide (Fischer 1994; Maier 1991).
The lines dividing the classes, though, did not neatly align with those dividing the people
on the political issues. Sometimes they acted together; at other times they split apart. While
there were rich men, like John Hancock, who either joined crowd action or cheered it on,

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Mobilization

there were poor and middling people who took no part in it (Countryman 1985; Forbes
1942).5 There were other fault lines as well, further complicating the matter. In Massachusetts, for instance, the contest between Britain and the colonies occurred in two loci: in
Boston, the center of commerce and administration, and in the province at large, where 95
percent of the population lived (Brown 1970; Forbes 1942). For the most part, those in the
backcountry did not share the sense of threat to the urban interests (Gross 2001; Henretta1965).
Another important gap to be bridged in order to turn what was happening from a debate
to a movement was the one between the thinkers and the doers. Leaders are for naught
without followers, and they could have done nothing material against British policy without
substantial popular support (Countryman 1985; Forbes 1942). Two groups are worth noting inthis regard. One, locally organized citizen-soldiers—provincial militia or the minutemen,
many of whom were combat veterans (Galvin 1967; Gross 2001)—provided a much-needed
resource element for the pivotal armed insurrection they staged in response to the alarm.
While the upper-class tendency in the American officers’ corps can be seen in George
Washington’s edict governing recruitment during the Revolution (“Take none but gentlemen”), they usually pursued their trades or professions as civilians, leaving service in thearmy to artisans and most of all to farmers (Anderson 1984; Aronson 1964; Main 1965).
Although they lacked a centralized leadership, these citizen-soldiers did employ militaryconcepts of organization and methods of command and control that had been learned during a
century and a half of nearly constant warfare (Galvin 1967: 13). The other group was comprised of the crowds, or the mobs, that had been central—extralegal, but integral—to the
public life of colonial America, especially in popular uprisings (Countryman 1985; Rosswurm1989). The traditional gathering of the crowds in Boston on Pope’s Day (“Guy Fawkes Day”)
was typical of those, which consisted mostly of laborers, mariners, and artisans from thelower ranks of the craft hierarchy (Countryman 1985; Triber 1998). Despite the fact that most
revolutionary leaders clung to the eighteenth-century ideal of a ruling elite (Wood 1998) andheld the “Lower Orders of Men” in contempt, they did gradually recognize the need to bringthem into the fold (Forbes 1942).
Placing Revere and Warren
Where was Paul Revere in this picture? First and foremost, he was a silversmith. The
master artisans like him were separated from the journeymen and apprentices in wealth andrank, and there was a hierarchy of trades that put silversmiths, goldsmiths, and distillers at the
top among them (Main 1965; Triber 1998). Still, in the overall colonial social hierarchy, hestood in the middle, between patricians and plebeians (Aronson 1964; Countryman 1985).
Both a mechanic who made buckles and mended buttons for fellow artisans and their families
and an artist who designed rococo-style “scalop’d salvers” for the merchant elite, he moved
back and forth between the worlds of artisans and gentlemen, including many of Boston’s
leading Whigs. The nature of his work rendered Revere a potentially useful bridge between
the “bully boys” of Boston’s waterfront and the Harvard-educated gentlemen who led theAmerican Revolution (Aronson 1964; Fischer 1994; Forbes 1942; Triber 1998).6
Given the composition of the movement’s leadership, this was a critical factor in broadening its support base. The men chosen to serve on the Boston Committee of Correspondence,for instance, were all members of the town political class, men with property or a profession(Aronson 1964; Fischer 1989; Henretta 1965; Pole 1962; Tyler 1986). Several were well-to-do
merchants and capitalists with diverse investments, two were lawyers, three were physicians,
and the rest were involved in trade and manufactures. All had previously served the town invarious offices, and one third of its members held degrees from Harvard College (Brown 1970).
This leadership, however, was always a frail instrument, the success of which rested oncontinuous popular support, especially the mobilization of large segments of the lower classPaul Revere

149(Countryman 1985). In short, it took all of the colony to carry out the revolution. And both theidentities and interests needed to be articulated and organized as in any effort at extensive,robust, and sustained mobilization. For that, the movement needed men whose socioeconomic
status and cultural outlook allowed them to move among the various ranks of society. As a man
whose contacts reached deep and wide into the social and political networks, Revere was one of
the few who were comfortable in all of these places, each of which became an important part of
Boston’s revolutionary movement (Fischer 1994; Triber 1998).7
Despite the differences in his background, Warren too occupied a position structurally
similar to Revere’s. In part, it was due to his “ease among men of all ranks” (Triber 1998:
117-118). Although Warren was a Harvard College graduate and physician, he was able to“talk to, and for, merchants, farmers or mechanics” (Truax 1968: 38). More important, hisbeing a doctor was key to the breadth of his contacts in Boston (see footnote 9). Having
played a major role in battling the smallpox epidemic of 1764, his patient list included not
only the well-to-do and influential, but also the bottom of the social hierarchy (Cary 1961).
He was also active in the organizations discussed below, in many of which he was a leading
figure. It was thus not a surprise that Revere and Warren often found themselves sharing thesame structural space (Forbes 1942; Triber 1998). In other words, the roles they played were
nearly structurally equivalent.
The key feature that distinguished what happened in 1775 from all of the preceding
events was its breadth of mobilization. During the struggle following the Stamp Act of 1765,
for instance, the opposition came in a variety of forms: pamphlets were written and circulated(for example, James Otis’s The Rights of the British Colonies Asserted and Proved), meetings
were convened (such as the Stamp Act Congress), agreements were signed (like theNonimportation Agreements), and violent riots broke out. However, they were not organized
and coordinated as one. In the 1775 Alarm, in contrast, all the pieces fell into place: John
Hancock and Samuel Adams, who were hiding in Lexington, the mechanics in Boston, whowatched the British movement, and the locals, who were guarding the ammunition in Concord,
were brought together. And there to provide the connections were Revere and Warren, whose
positions in the social and organizational structures of the movement readied them for thetask.
Organizational InfrastructureLong before the Imperial Crisis, Boston’s political life revolved around social clubs,
taverns, and fire and militia companies. While they were not social movement organizations
proper, they served as organizational bases for the movement. Significant among them, andthe ones I examine below, were: the St. Andrew’s Lodge, the Masonic lodge that met at theGreen Dragon Tavern; the Loyal Nine, which was the nucleus of the Sons of Liberty; theNorth End Caucus that met at the Salutation Tavern; the Long Room Club in Dassett Alley;
and the Boston Committee of Correspondence (Fischer 1994).
One of the Masonic lodges in Boston, the St. Andrew’s Lodge, was comprised overwhelmingly of men of the middling ranks. Between 1752 and 1775, artisans, retailers, andmen in the seagoing trades made up nearly 70 percent of its membership, including Revere’s
cousin Nathaniel Hichborn, a boatbuilder; Josiah Flagg, a jeweler and childhood friend who
had helped Revere ring bells at the Christ Church; and Ezra Collins, a hatmaker and neighbor.
Revere’s membership reinforced his existing ties to family, friends, and neighbors. It also
introduced him to Warren, which shaped both of their futures in the political struggles of the1760s and 1770s (Triber 1998: 29). As a Freemason, they were also linked, albeit indirectly,
by “bonds of brotherly love” to other members of Boston’s elite in the St. John’s Lodge.8
The Loyal Nine figured prominently in the resistance against the Stamp Act, and as theepisode unfolded, served as the organized nucleus of Boston’s Sons of Liberty. It was a social
club of printers, distillers, shopkeepers, and other artisans and tradesmen, men of middlingMobilization

150

rank. The Loyal Nine used several means to generate resistance, one of which was to contact
a cordwainer named Ebenezer MacIntosh, who was a leader of the South End Pope’s Day
company (Forbes 1942). While neither Revere nor Warren were members, Revere hadconnections to two, and possibly three, members of the Loyal Nine by the Stamp Act crisis,
and within a few years he and Warren would join several members of the Loyal Nine in the
North End Caucus.9 Despite the commitment, organization, and militancy, however, itvirtually dissipated when the Stamp Act was finally repealed. Its members, though, tend to
appear repeatedly in later groups.
There were three caucuses in Boston—North End, Middle, and South End—run by the
Whigs to control the politics of town. The North End Caucus met at the Salutation Tavern,
one of Revere’s haunts. Its membership straddled the class divide. Nearly 40 percent of its
members were merchants, lawyers, and physicians, including Samuel and John Adams,
James Otis, and Joseph Warren, who formed the leadership of the caucus. They knew thatthe patriot cause could not survive without the support of Boston’s master artisans, who
could mobilize their families, friends, and neighbors. The rest, hence, was mostly agathering of artisans and ship’s captains, overlapping substantially with the St. Andrew’s
Lodge (Fischer 1994; Triber 1998). This balanced mix in the group was, as shown below,
crucial for the integration of the movement as a whole.
Paul Revere was also invited to join the Long Room Club. This secret society, smaller
and more select than the North End Caucus, was an inner sanctum of the Whig movement
in Boston. Its seventeen members included the most eminent of Boston’s leading Whigs,
such as Samuel and John Adams, John Hancock, James Otis, Josiah Quincy, and Joseph
Warren. Most—at least ten of the seventeen known names—had been to Harvard College;nearly all were lawyers, physicians, ministers, magistrates, and men of independent means.
That Revere was possibly the only mechanic selected by this exclusive club proved to be ofmuch significance later (Fischer 1994).
Last, formed as a permanent committee of correspondence to communicate withother towns in the province and colony at large, the Boston Committee of Correspondence served as a de facto town committee as well. The men chosen to serve on the committee were all members of the town political class, men with property or a profession.
More importantly, through its membership, the committee was linked closely to theexisting institutions of Boston, political or otherwise, save the governor’s circle (Brown
1970: 60). Its members participated in several Boston congregations, in both of Boston’s
Masonic lodges, the fire companies of several wards, as well as a variety of private clubs.
At least eight of the twenty-one members belonged to the North End Caucus. Warren wasa member. Revere was not, but he was employed by the committee as its express rider.
These associations did not make a unitary organization; rather they were a loose
alliance of groups.10 Moreover, although there were a number of well-known politicalleaders, no central authority existed to control the movement as a whole (Brown 1970;
Countryman 1985; Fischer 1994). The diffuse nature of its locally clustered structure gave
Revere and Warren, who moved in many different circles, a special importance as communicators, coordinators, and organizers of the movement.11

DATA SOURCES AND METHODS
The main source of data is the membership lists of key Whig groups during the period,
compiled by Fischer (1994: 301-7). Of the seven lists he provides, five discussed earlier—the St. Andrew’s Lodge as of 1762, the Loyal Nine as of 1766,12 the North End Caucus asof 1771, the Long Room Club as of 1773, and the Boston Committee of Correspondence asof 1774—are used for the analysis. The other two—the list of men known to haveparticipated in the Boston Tea Party and the list of Whig leaders on a Tory enemies list—

Paul Revere151

are not used, for those were not membership groups. Admittedly, it is a rather select sampleof the organizations that had existed.13 Yet, these lists include most of the Whigorganizations in Boston that are known to have played significant roles in the movement
and provide a series of organizational snapshots that span from the early 1760s to 1774, a
year before Revere’s ride.
Shown in figure 1 are the group membership data. The five groups are placed from top
to bottom by the year each membership list was compiled. A total of 137 men were in one
or more of these groups. In each, members are sorted by their membership profiles. Amongthe members of the St. Andrew’s Lodge, for instance, indicated by the box on the left, areforty-eight members, who shared the same membership profile of belonging only to theLodge. The other five, indicated by the separate boxes to the right, belonged to more than
one group, providing links between the St. Andrew’s Lodge and those groups. For example,
Crafts and Welles (the second box) were also members of the Loyal Nine, and Urann (thethird box) a member of the North End Caucus. Revere belonged to two other groups—theNorth End Caucus and the Long Room Club. And, lastly, Warren had membership in fourgroups. These overlapping memberships, or intergroup connections, are indicated by thevertical lines connecting the boxes.
The membership data in figure 1 can be rearranged as a two-mode network of fivegroups and 137 persons (5-by-137), which allows an empirical analysis of both the networkof persons and the network of the groups that they comprise (Breiger 1974; Wasserman and
Faust 1994). A person-by-person (137-by-137) network can be constructed, in which the
Figure 1. Groups and Their Members
1762
St. Andrews Lodge (N = 53)

48

2

5

2

1764

J. Warren

P. Revere

1763

1765

1766
Loyal Nine (N =10)

3

1767

T. Urann

1768

1769

1770

45

3

6

2
S. Adams,
B. Church

1771
North End Caucus (N = 60)
1772

1773
Long Room Club (N = 17)

10

1774
Boston Committee of Correspondence (N = 21)

10

6

2

2

2

2

Note: The boxes—each denoting a structurally equivalent block—are sized proportionally to the number of persons,as noted inside. When left blank, it denotes a single person box. The lines indicate intergroup links.

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152

value of a tie between two actors is defined by the number of groups of which both are
members. For instance, as shown in figure 1, Samuel Adams and Benjamin Church belonged to three groups together, giving the tie between them a value of 3. Alternately, agroup-by-group (5-by-5) network can be obtained, in which the value of a tie between two
groups is defined conversely by the number of persons who belong to both. The St.
Andrew’s Lodge and the Loyal Nine have only two members in common. The tie between
these two groups, hence, has a value of 2. These two networks will be the bases of theanalysis that follows.
FINDINGS: SUBSTANTIATING THE LINKAGES
Figure 1 shows that all five groups can reach one another through their shared members
within two steps at most, thus forming a single connected component (Wasserman and Faust
1994: 109-110).14 Yet the connections were sparse and weak: the overlaps between the groups
were small, and consequently, the intergroup links were few. The great majority, 118 of 137(86.1 percent), appeared only on a single list, generating no between-group ties. And no one
appeared on all five lists. Only a few had relational breadth: Joseph Warren was in fourgroups, followed by Samuel Adams, Benjamin Church, and Paul Revere, who were in three.
The remaining fifteen (10.9 percent) appeared on two lists. These numbers suggest that thegroups did not form a tight, unitary organization. Rather, they were organized as a loose,sparsely connected alliance. Also, most of the ties that linked the groups were of the kind that
did not reach far and wide. They were narrow and localized in their span, a consequence of
which is the fissure between two network clusters, indicated by the two shadowed areas in the
figure.15 These weaknesses in the structure are precisely what made Revere and Warren’sconnections critical to the success of movement mobilization. Warren obviously had the mostand farthest-reaching connections. Revere had fewer connections. Yet in spanning the divide
between the two network clusters, Revere’s membership profile was qualitatively distinct
from those of Adams and Church, who appeared on just as many lists.
Various measures bear out their structural centrality in the network. I examine “betweenness centrality” (Freeman 1977) first. It is a measure of centrality of an actor in a network,
calculated as the fraction of shortest paths between pairs of other actors that pass through that
actor. Since the actor in such a position presumably can mediate relationships between theother actors, it comes closest to measuring the extent to which an actor operates as a broker.
Figure 2(a) summarizes the result. Since the vast majority of them—118 out of 137—
belonged to only one group, the average betweenness centrality score is very low (.473), andthe overall distribution is highly skewed with a few extreme values—such as Joseph Warren(20.977), Paul Revere (14.606), and Thomas Urann (9.922), followed by Samuel Adams andBenjamin Church (2.240 for both). These were the bridges across the structural holes thatbrought the groups and their members together.
The other measure is “closeness centrality,” which indicates the distance between an
actor and all other actors in a network as measured by average path length. Actors with highcloseness centrality can more easily, quickly, and directly reach and interact with the othernetwork actors. As shown in figure 2(b), although not as severely skewed, the overall pattern,including the rank order (r = .693), is quite similar with that of the betweenness centrality infigure 2(a). The skews found in both are clear signs of cluster-and-bridge structure, where theworld is made smaller by a few connections provided by the people like Revere and Warren.16
In order to get a more precise sense of these connectors’ importance, I examine in whatways, and by how much, the network as a whole will suffer if they were to be removed fromit. Given that the shorter the distance between actors, the easier and more direct thecommunication between them, and hence, the better and more efficiently connected the
network as a whole, I measure the changes in average pair-wise path distance. Figure 3 shows

Paul Revere

153

Figure 2. Distribution of Centrality Scores(a) Betweenness Centrality

20

15

10

5

(b) Closeness Centrality

0

50

60

70

80

90

100

Note: Cases are ordered vertically by centrality score rank.

the result, where the actors ranked high in betweenness and closeness centralities are removed
one at a time from the network and the impact of their removal is observed (also see Moody
and White 2003). The baseline distance, obtained from the full network of all 137 men, is theaverage of all pair-wise distances (1.638). Warren, who ranks at the top in both measures
examined, has far and away the largest impact—an increase of 3.91 percent over the entire
network. Revere is a distant second. While much of what the upper panel of figure 3 presents
could have been expected from the results reported in figure 2, the bottom panel of figure 3
reveals a peculiarity that was not expected. The bars in the bottom panel show the effects ofremoving those actors in tandem. Whereas pairing the other actors—such as Urann, Samuel
Adams, or Church—with Warren adds little to Warren’s impact on his own, the impact ofremoving Warren and Revere together explodes to nearly a double of the sum of theirindividual values. The key to the puzzle seems to be in their structural proximity to each otherin the overall configuration of the network.
The 137 men can be sorted by their membership profiles. In the upper left corner of
figure 1, for example, those who belonged only to the St. Andrew’s Lodge shared an identicalmembership profile. Similarly, in the lower right corner, Samuel Adams and Benjamin Church

Mobilization

154

had the same membership profile. In this manner, one can identify fourteen distinct blocks inthe figure. These membership profile blocks translate into fourteen “structurally equivalent”
blocks in the person-by-person network, for they have identical ties to and from all the otheractors in the network (Wasserman and Faust 1994: 394-424; White, Boorman, and Breiger1976). With these blocks, a simpler representation of the network structure, in which its
dimensions are reduced to 14-by-14, can be obtained.
Figure 3. Percent Changes in Average Path DistanceWarren
Rev ereUrann
S. A dams
Churc hY oung
Molineux
J . Adams
Greenleaf
DennieBarberAppleton
Welles
Edes
Craf ts
Chase
Bas s

Warren + Revere
Warren + Urann
Warren + S . Adams
Warren + Church

0

5

10

Note: Percent change produced by removing actor(s).

In figure 4, where the fourteen blocks and their ties with one another are shown, bothRevere (13) and Warren (12) are found at the center of the network. More importantly, they
are located close to each other, indicating that they play similar roles vis-à-vis the other.
Revere and Warren were substitutable in that sense (Burt 1976), being structural duals or
backups to each other. Thus, the networks in figure 4(b), where Revere is removed, and figure
4(c), where Warren is removed, appear almost identical in their configurations. With one ofthem still holding the center, the damage to the network as a whole seems not to be thatsevere. However, when they are removed in tandem, as shown in figure 4(d), the network
becomes virtually hollowed out at the core. The network remains connected as a whole, but
substantially less efficiently. It seems that the movement might have been able to afford
losing one of them, but not both, without seriously harming itself.

Paul Revere

155

Figure 4. Network Structure of the Revolutionary Movement in Boston
4

4

(a)
With All Blocks(Density = .725 ;Connectivity = 5.253)

5
6

9

7

8

5
6

9

11

1

7

3

13
2

14

8
10

(b)
Without Revere(Density = .641;
Connectivity = 4.282)
4

5
6

9

11

7

8

11

1
12

3

1
12

3

2

13
2
14

10

(c)
Without Warren(Density = .590;
Connectivity = 4.128)
4

5
6

9

7

8

11

14

1

3

2

14

10

10

(d)
Without Both
(Density = .500;
Connectivity = 3.182)

Note: For layout, Gower metric scaling is used. Circles represent structurally equivalent blocks. Density andconnectivity reported are measured between those blocks. For further details, refer to figure 1.

Revere and Warren’s impacts on the overall cohesion can further be ascertained by two
additional measures: network density and point connectivity (Hedström, Sandell, and Stern
2000; Moody and White 2003).17 Between the blocks shown in figure 4(a), the overall density
is .725 and the average connectivity is 5.253. When Revere is removed, the density drops to.641 and the connectivity drops to 4.282. Similarly, when Warren is removed, they drop to.590 and 4.128, respectively. When both Revere and Warren are removed in figure 4(d), thechange is drastic: There is a 31.0 percent decrease in overall density (.500) and a 39.4 percent
decrease in connectivity (3.182). Without the two, in other words, the network becomes
noticeably more sparse and fragile, and its integrity significantly undermined.
Equally important was what Revere and Warren spanned in substance. Certainly, a sharedpolitical goal bound the five organizations. There was, however, little else that they shared.
Socially and culturally, they were poles apart, which would have made large-scale mobilization of men of all orders difficult. One of the ways to ascertain the social distances between
these groups is to examine the background of their members. From the secondary data
available, three binary variables are constructed for the analysis reported in table 1: experience in the militia as an officer (Fischer 1994), occupational background as a merchant (Tyler
1986), and educational background of a degree from Harvard College (Brown 1970). In addition, two count variables—the number of index entries in Pauline Maier’s From Resistanceto Revolution: Colonial Radicals and the Development of American Opposition to Britain,
1765-1776 (1991)18 and the number of total memberships in the organizations examined(Fischer 1994)—are included. The former is an indicator of the historical recognition and thelatter the extent of organizational activity.
The provincial militia, or the minutemen, provided one of the key elements to the armed
insurrection (Fischer 1994; Galvin 1967; Gross 2001). Mostly artisans and farmers, thus
middling in their socioeconomic status (Anderson 1984; Aronson 1964; Main 1965), they
were heavily concentrated in the earlier groups—the St. Andrew’s Lodge in particular (L2 =22.05, p = .000). On the other hand, merchants and those with a degree from Harvard College

Mobilization

156

were significantly over-represented in the later groups (L2 = 21.26, p = .000, and L2 = 29.85,
p = .000, respectively). The members of the later groups were also more likely to havemultiple memberships, forming a dense cluster as suggested in figure 1 (F = 3.88, d.f. = 4, p
= .005). Unlike the members of the earlier groups, these are the men who are known to be
the leaders of the American Revolution today as measured by the number of times they are
mentioned in Maier’s book (F = 4.11, d.f. = 4, p = .003).19 By and large, the earlier groups
and later groups were comprised of people from distinct social strata, showing a typical
pattern of focused organization (Feld 1981).
Table 1. Membership Characteristics
Militia Title
N(%)

MerchantN(%)

Harvard
CollegeN(%)

St. Andrew’s Lodge(n = 53)17(32.1)

6(11.3)

1

Loyal Nine(n = 10)1(10.0)

6(60.0)

North End Caucus(n = 60)

4

(6.7)

17

Long Room Club(n = 17)1(5.9)

Boston Committeeof Correspondence(n = 21)0

23

Total (Average %)Maier’s
Index
Mean

No. ofMemberships
Mean

(1.9)

.62

1.15

1

(10.0)

1.30

1.50(28.3)

7(11.7)

1.73

1.33

6

(35.3)

10(58.8)

6.24

1.71

(0.0)

12

(57.1)

5(23.8)

4.57

1.71(16.8)

47(34.3)

24(17.5)
2.19

1.37

4.11**

3.88**

4

4

11.69**

12.69***

Average
2

L

22.05

***

21.26

***

29.85

***

F-ratio
d.f.

4

4

4

τ-b

***

***

***

-.308

Linearity

.254

.314

Note: * p < .05, ** p < .01, *** p < .001

Note too the changes in these characteristics over time. In terms of τ-b and ANOVA
linearity tests reported in the bottom panel of the table, all five variables show clear statisticalsignificance, with the p-values ranging from .000 to .001. The finding implies that there has
been a generational shift in the movement’s organizational base, especially in its leadership.
Some—Thomas Urann, for instance—were central during the early period by holding thegroups together through their joint memberships. When they faded out, a new group emerged,
which included such well-known figures as Samuel Adams, John Adams, and James Otis.
This new generation was educated and well-off, led the revolution at the front, and later
became prominently associated with the revolution. In this shift, Warren and Revere were theonly exceptions who sustained the level of centrality throughout the period, spanning thegeneration gap as well as various social chasms.

Paul Revere

157

THE OTHER RIDE: DISCUSSION AND CONCLUSIONS
It is impossible not to notice the elaborately sculpted hills of the founding fathers in thehistoriographical landscape of the American Revolution. Overshadowed by those hills in the
backdrop are the vast heath of the Unknowns and the occasional glades of the middlingcharacters that had played various supporting roles. Such selective memory, after all, has
always been the way in which histories are written. However, failing to be evenhanded inallotting historical recognition is one thing; missing the underlying historical process isanother (Fischer 1970; Stinchcombe 1978). With regard to the former, the analysis brings
Revere and Warren to light, which they rightfully deserve. As to the latter, it frames theAmerican Revolution as an incipient social movement and highlights the structural problems
inherent in a large-scale mobilization process, thus emphasizing the organizational work andthe social structural basis on which it played out. As in any effort at extensive, robust, andsustained mobilization, the revolution required hard work to articulate and organize the identities and interests of those involved. This understated, yet more fundamental, aspect ofmaking the Revolution was examined here.
My focus was on two characters, Paul Revere and Joseph Warren. Revere of course has
hardly been forgotten. From Longfellow’s poem to the painting in the Metropolitan Museumof Art, he enjoys “posthumous panegyrics” (Triber 1998: 196) in abundance. All of these,
however, center exclusively and misleadingly on the single episode of his ride to Lexington
on the night of April 18-19, 1775, whereas his real substantive importance has not been given
due attention. What Fischer (1994: xv) alludes to as his “uncanny genius for being at thecenter of events,” the analysis has shown, had more to do with where he was in the networkthat formed the core of the mobilization effort. Warren, too, has suffered the same predicament, being remembered only for his role in that episode. Moving away from the spotlight on the ride itself, the paper recast them in terms of their roles in the social andorganizational structure of the Revolutionary movement.
The analysis showed that Revere and Warren played critical roles by being extraordinarily effective bridges. The effectiveness of their brokerage was due to its high multiplexity and the unique ways in which it was embedded in the institutional and organizationalsetting of eighteenth-century New England. There were grave fault lines, along which thesociety was divided, posing significant challenges to the effort to mobilize men of all orders.
Furthermore, the revolutionary movement was structurally quite fragile, for it consisted ofdiverse and changing groups and their loosely connected networks, and lacked centrallyorganized leadership. Paradoxically, these adverse conditions made Revere and Warren’sroles as bridges all the more crucial. No one could have contrived it just so; yet they were at
the right place at the right time. In spanning various social chasms and connecting disparateorganizational elements, and thus, in bringing them together to forge an emerging movement,
their brokerage role was highly instrumental, if not indispensable, for its success.
Reassessing their case also allowed an opportunity to recalibrate the key structural concept of brokerage. The roles Revere and Warren played fit perfectly into the general
conceptual framework of brokerage. However, the brokerage role they played diverges fromits currently prevalent usage in two related aspects, providing a critical corrective. Both bear
upon the issue of incentives in brokerage. First, in the case of Revere and Warren, the commission, typically associated with the brokerage positions like theirs, was not found in any
tangible, personal form. And second, instead of maintaining the holes to keep exploiting them,Revere and Warren closed them up. These considerations expand the purview of the conceptof brokerage to encompass noncompetitive settings, including that of movement mobilization.
In structural terms, what I presented here is another case of strength of weak ties andstructural holes arguments. Yet, in the context of mobilization, its theoretical and substantive
implications are made more vivid, showing how networks matter and how the micro-macroMobilization

158

linkages operate (Burt 2000; Diani 2003; Gould 1991; McAdam, Tarrow, and Tilly 2001;
White 1992). In accounting for collective action dynamics from a relational point of view,
Granovetter (2002: 53) distinguishes three kinds of configuration of social networks and theircorresponding potentials. One, fragmented social structures deficient in bridging ties, arelikely to find collective action difficult, failing to mobilize politically. Two, those that aredensely connected, though amenable to a high level of cooperation, are even less likely to beeffectively coordinated from a center. Lastly, in the structures characterized by cluster-andbridge configuration, the presence of a limited number of actors towards whom mostinteractions converge greatly facilitates the transformation of an aggregate of largely isolatedgroups into a connected and coordinated movement network, as it opens up channels ofpotential communication and mutual recognition (Diani 2003: 118; Simmel 1955). This iswhere Granovetter (2002) expects to find the greatest potential efficacy for large-scale social
phenomena. Revere and Warren found themselves in precisely such a setting, and they acted
to couple the decoupled (Breiger 1995: 126-127; White 1992). In mobilizing for the American
Revolution, this was the other—and, as I have argued, far more important—ride.

NOTES
1

The ideal-typical configuration of strong weak ties requires a number of structural conditions to be jointly at work.
It involves, at the very least, the conditions described in the discussions of betweenness centrality (Freeman 1977)
and range (Lin, Ensel, and Vaughn 1981). More broadly, the discussions on graph connectivity (Wasserman and
Faust 1994), power in exchange networks (Cook, Emerson, Gillmore, and Yamagishi 1983), homophily (McPherson,
Smith-Lovin, and Cook 2001) and focused organization (Feld 1981) all bear upon the underlying mechanism.
2This is the principle of “divide and rule (divide et impera)” illustrated in the countless historical examples, such as
the Medici in Florence of the 15th century (Padgett and Ansell 1993) and the Ottoman Empire in the 17th century(Barkey 1994). Given the built-in pressures toward closure, such as the tendency toward balance (Granovetter 1973;
Harary, Norman, and Cartwright 1965), however, it requires a great deal of effort and shrewdness to sustain theseholes over time.
3
As Lin (2001) points out, this is one of the issues to be resolved in the debate on social capital (also see Portes
1998), that is, at which level is return or profit on social capital to be conceived and accounted, and similarly, whether
it is a collective or an individual good.
4
At the war’s end, for instance, about eleven hundred Tories went to England with General Howe (Triber 1998). Andof course much of Canada was settled by those Americans loyal to the Crown, who fled north.
5
See, for example, John W. Tyler’s Smugglers and Patriots: Boston Merchants and the Advent of the American
Revolution (1986), a careful and sophisticated analysis of divisions within Boston’s merchant community and how
they played into revolutionary politics.
6
Due to the range of their contacts on the job, some occupations seem to be better positioned to play the bridging rolein the mobilization settings that require broad bases, such as shopkeepers and bartenders in Boston’s West End and
New York City (Gans 1974a; Jacobs 1993), shoemakers and electricity meter readers in Ireland (Boissevain 1974),
traveling agitators in Sweden (Hedström, Sandell, and Stern 2000), African-American hair salon owners in South
Carolina, and cab drivers in South Korea.
7
In many local settings, those in similar positions served as the links helping to gain the confidence of the populace,such as Sears and Lamb in New York, Spooner in Newport, and Putnam and Durkee in Connecticut (Maier 1991: 87-9).
8
The St. John’s Lodge seems to have been more upscale in its membership than the St. Andrew’s. Among theirbrethren were James Otis, two Gridleys, three Quincys, and “Merchant” Rowe (Forbes 1942: 59).
9John Avery, a Harvard classmate of Joseph Warren, had purchased a silver tankard from Revere on October 19,
1764, and Thomas Crafts had been a lodge brother at the St. Andrew’s since 1761. Captain Henry Welles, who may
have been one of the Loyal Nine, was another member of the St. Andrew’s Lodge. Thomas Chase, who joined the St.
Andrew’s Lodge in 1769, Henry Bass, and Benjamin Edes were later Revere’s fellow members of the North End
Caucus. Revere may have known Bass, Edes, Chase, and other members of the Loyal Nine even earlier because ofgeographic proximity and their similar social status (Triber 1998).
10
The strains within the nonimportation movement, for instance, clearly illustrated that the patriot cause was often
riding on a fragile coalition (Triber 1998; Tyler 1986). Even when the Stamp Act in 1765 managed to offend
everyone, much of the organizational structure, including the Sons of Liberty, quickly dissipated after its repeal in
1766 (Countryman 1985; Forbes 1942).
11
This, of course, is not meant to slight the others in different roles. For instance, Samuel Adams was especially
important in managing the town ,eetings and the machinery of local government, and thus was much in the publiceye. Otis was among its most impassioned orators, John Adams “the penman of the revolution,” and John Hancock its“milch cow,” as a Tory described him (Fischer 1994).

Paul Revere

159

12
The Loyal Nine were identified by name and occupation in the diary of John Adams, who visited them in January
1766. However, there are confusions surrounding the list. It has been conjectured, for instance, that Field’s presence,
like Adams’s, was as a guest, and that Henry Welles, a mariner, was the ninth member. When Gordon compiled hislist of those who prepared Boston’s August 14 effigies, he gathered eight names, including Welles’s, but excluding
both Field and Trott (Maier 1991: 307). I err on the conservative side by including them all, making it 10 instead of 9.
13
Apparently, Fischer’s data do not include all the groups in Boston at the time. There were, for instance, at least twoother Masonic lodges in Boston, including St. John’s, at various periods before and during the Revolution. There
were also the South End and Middle Caucuses in addition to the North End Caucus, yet no definitive membershiplists are available for them. Fischer speculates that the overall pattern would not be significantly altered by additional
data (1994: 301-2). I note that while these organizations were of clear relevance to the mobilization, they were not the
only sources for mobilization. Family and kinship, church, and neighborhood, for instance, could have also affected
the network. Given the limited data availability, though, they had to be put aside for future research.
14
For instance, while there were no direct links between the Loyal Nine and the Long Room Club, the Loyal Nine had
three members in common with the North End Caucus, which in turn shared two members with the Long Room Club,
creating indirect links between the two. They were also linked in the same manner through the St. Andrew’s Lodge.
15
Although the two clusters are joined through the North End Caucus, these overlaps are to be taken cautiously, forthey are likely to be overstated due to the large size of the North End Caucus.
16
Degree centrality, another often-used measure of centrality, is not suitable for this particular setting, for it is likely
to be heavily biased upward for those who belong to large groups (Faust 1997; Wasserman and Faust 1994: 322-24).
17
For a binary network, the density is the total number of observed ties divided by the total number of possible ties;
for a valued network, the total of all values divided by the total number of possible ties. The connectivity is measured
by the number of actors that need to be removed from the network to leave no path connecting the two actors.
18
Widely considered a definitive treatment on the subject, it focuses on the period that coincides precisely this article.
19
For example, Samuel Adams, primus inter pares among them, is mentioned 31 times, followed by John Adams
with 25 times. Joseph Warren was mentioned 13 times. Paul Revere, however, was mentioned only once (!).

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