There is an ongoing debate centering around the etymology of the term “Lynch’s Law” and its abbreviated form, “lynching”. The Patriot judge coined the term “Lynch’s Law” at Green Level, which is the present site of Avoca Museum. He used the term to describe the trials and punishment that occurred as a result of those trials. However, historians debate the origin of the word “lynching”. There are three major camps pertaining to the origin of the word.

 One camp has it that the term was instituted through the legend of Charles Lynch’s ancestor, FitzStephen Lynch in 1493. The following account was provided by Library Ireland and is attributed to the Dublin Penny Journal (1833):

“ A few years before the battle of Knocktuadh, an extraordinary instance of civic justice occurred in this town, which in the eyes of its citizens elevated their chief magistrate to a rank with the inflexible Roman. James Lynch Fitz-Stephen, an opulent merchant, was mayor of Galway in 1493. He had made several voyages to Spain, as a considerable intercourse was then kept up between that country and the western coast of Ireland. When returning from his last visit he brought with him the son of a respectable merchant named Gomez, whose hospitality he had largely experienced, and who was now received by his family with all that warmth of affection which from the earliest period has characterised the natives of Ireland. Young Gomez soon became the intimate associate of Walter Lynch, the only son of the mayor, a youth in his twenty-first year, and who possessed qualities of mind and body which rendered him an object of general admiration; but in these was unhappily united a disposition to libertinism, which was a source of the greatest affliction to his father. The worthy magistrate, however, was now led to entertain hopes of a favourable change in his son's character, as he was engaged in paying honourable addresses to a beautiful young lady of good family and fortune. Preparatory to the nuptials, the mayor gave a splendid entertainment, at which young Lynch fancied his intended bride viewed his Spanish friend with too much regard. The fire of jealousy was instantly lighted up in his distempered brain, and at their next interview he accused his beloved Agnes of unfaithfulness to him. Irritated at its injustice, the offended fair one disdained to deny the charge, and the lovers parted in anger.

On the following night, while Walter Lynch slowly passed the residence of his Agnes, he observed young Gomez to leave the house, as he had been invited by her father to spend that evening with him. All his suspicions now received the most dreadful confirmation, and in maddened fury he rushed on his unsuspecting friend, w ho, alarmed by a voice which the frantic rage of his pursuer prevented him from recognising, fled towards a solitary quarter of the town near the shore. Lynch maintained the fell pursuit till his victim had nearly reached the water's edge, when he overtook him, darted a poniard into his heart, and plunged his body, bleeding, into the sea, which, during the night, threw it back again upon the shore, where it was found and recognised on the following morning.

The wretched murderer, after contemplating for a moment the deed of horror which he had perpetrated, sought to hide himself in the recesses of an adjoining wood, where he passed the night a prey to all those conflicting feelings which the loss of that happiness he had so ardently expected, and a sense of guilt of the deepest dye, could inflict. He at length found some degree of consolation in the firm resolution of surrendering himself to the law, as the only means now left to him of expiating the dreadful crime which he had committed against society. With this determination he bent his steps towards the town at the eailiest dawn of the following morning; but he had scarcely reached its precincts, when he met a crowd approaching, amongst whom, with shame and terror, he observed his father on horseback, attended by several officers of justice. At present, the venerable magistrate had no suspicion that his only son was the assassin of his friend and guest; but when young Lynch proclaimed himself the murderer, a conflict of feeling seized the wretched father beyond the power of language to describe. To him, as chief magistrate of the town, was entrusted the power of life and death. For a moment the strong affection of a parent pleaded in his breast in behalf of his wretched son: but this quickly gave place to a sense of duty in his magisterial capacity as an impartial dispenser of the laws. The latter feeling at length predominated, and though he now perceived that the cup of earthly bliss was about to be for ever dashed from his lips, he resolved to sacrifice all personal considerations to his love of justice, and ordered the guard to secure their prisoner.

The sad procession moved slowly towards the prison amidst a concourse of spectators, some of whom expressed the strongest admiration at the upright conduct of the magistrate, while others were equally loud in their lamentations for the unhappy fate of a highly accomplished youth who had long been a universal favourite. But the firmness of the mayor had to withstand a still greater shock when the mother, sisters, and intended bride of the wretched Walter beheld him who had been their hope and pride, approach pale, bound, and surrounded with spears. Their frantic outcries affected every heart except that of the inflexible magistrate, who had now resolved to sacrifice life with all that makes life valuable rather than swerve from the path of duty.

In a few days the trial of Walter Lynch took place, and in a provincial town of Ireland, containing at that period not more than three thousand inhabitants, a father was beheld sitting in judgment, like another Brutus, on his only son; and, like him, too, condemning that son to die, as a sacrifice to public justice. Yet the trial of the firmness of the upright and inflexible magistrate did not end here. His was a virtue too refined for vulgar minds: the populace loudly demanded the prisoner's release, and were only prevented by the guards from demolishing the prison, and the mayor's house, which adjoined it; and their fury was increased on learning that the unhappy prisoner had now become anxious for life. To these ebullitions of popular rage were added the intercessions of persons of the first rank and influence in Galway, and the entreaties of his dearest relatives and friends; but while Lynch evinced all the feeling of a father and a man placed in his singularly distressing circumstances, he undauntedly declared that the law should take its course.

On the night preceding the fatal day appointed for the execution of Walter Lynch, this extraordinary man entered the dungeon of his son, holding in his hand a lamp, and accompanied by a priest. He locked the grate after him, kept the keys fast in his hand, and then seated himself in a recess of the wall. The wretched culprit drew near, and, with a faltering tongue, asked if he had any thing to hope? The mayor answered, "No, my son--your life is forfeited to the laws, and at sun-rise you must die! I have prayed for your prosperity: but that is at an end--with this world you have done for ever--were any other but your wretched father your judge, I might have dropped a tear over my child's misfortune, and solicited for his life, even though stained with murder; but you must die: these are the last drops which shall quench the sparks of nature; and, if you dare hope, implore that heaven may not shut the gates of mercy on the destroyer of his fellow-creature. I am now come to join with this good man in petitioning God to give you such composure as will enable you to meet your punishment with becoming resignation." After this affecting address, he called on the clergyman to offer up their united prayers for God's Forgiveness to his unhappy son, and that he might be fully fortified to meet the approaching catastrophe. In the ensuing supplications at a throne of mercy, the youthful culprit joined with fervor, and spoke of life and its concerns no more.

Day had scarcely broken when the signal of preparation was heard among the guards without. The father rose, and assisted the executioner to remove the fetters which bound his unfortunate son. Then unlocking the door, he placed him between the priest and himself, leaning upon an arm of each. In this manner they ascended a flight of steps lined with soldiers, and were passing on to gain the street, when a new trial assailed the magistrate, for which he appears not to have been unprepared. His wretched wife, whose name was Blake, failing in her personal exertions to save the life of her son, had gone in distraction to the heads of her own family, and prevailed on them, for the honour of their house, to rescue him from ignominy. They flew to arms, and a prodigious concourse soon assembled to support them, whose outcries for mercy to the culprit would have shaken any nerves less firm than those of the mayor of Galway. He exhorted them to yield submission to the laws of their country; but finding all his efforts fruitless to accomplish the ends of justice at the accustomed place and by the usual hands, he, by a desperate victory over parental feeling, resolved himself to perform the sacrifice which he had vowed to pay on its altar. Still retaining a hold of his unfortunate son, he mounted with him by a winding stair within the building, that led to an arched window overlooking the street, which he saw filled with the populace. Here he secured the end of the rope which had been previously fixed round the neck of his son, to an iron staple, which projected from the wall, and, after taking from him a last embrace, he launched him into eternity.

The intrepid magistrate expected instant death from the fury of the populace; but the people seemed so much overawed or confounded by the magnanimous act, that they retired slowly and peaceably to their several dwellings. The innocent cause of this sad tragedy is said to have died soon after of grief, and the unhappy father of Walter Lynch to have secluded himself during the remainder of his life from all society, except that of his mourning family. His house still exists in Lombard-street, Galway, which is yet known by the name of "Dead Man's Lane," and over the front doorway are to be seen a skull and cross bones executed in black marble, with the motto, "Remember Deathe, vaniti of vaniti, and all is but vaniti."

There are many reasons why this account is most likely not the origin of the word “lynching”. Firstly, both the Oxford and Collins dictionaries of the 19th century state that the term originated from a Virginia farmer named Lynch. Additionally, if the term does derive from fifteenth century Ireland, it would seem strange that the term does not reappear in the English lexicon until the 1800s. The proximity of the events of 1780 and the popular usage of the term favors a nineteenth century American origin.

A second camp claims that a relative of Colonel Charles Lynch, William Lynch, is the source of the term. According to his own account, he led vigilant justice forays against his neighbors in the years following the Revolution. However, there are some reasons to question the validity of this theory. For instance, one of the strongest proponents of this account was none other than Edgar Allen Poe, who was notorious for his literary hoaxes. Additionally, the only account of William Lynch’s activities show up in an unpublished article written by diarist Andrew Ellicott. Ellicott apparently found William Lynch’s testimony to sound rather outlandish and it is probably for this reason that he chose not to publish the story. The obscurity of William Lynch’s actions, coupled with the fame of Colonel Lynch legend, casts doubt upon these claims.

The Colonel Lynch narrative gives modern readers a third account that is likely because it possesses greatest amount of supporting evidence. This story begins in August of 1780 when a Patriot spy infiltrated a group of British Loyalists called “Tories” in southwestern Virginia. The spy learned of a Tory plot to sabotage Virginia’s lead and saltpeter mines, which were then under the superintendence of Lynch. The plot further contained the design to march on Charlottesville, free British prisoners-of-war, and overthrow the Virginia state government. When Governor Thomas Jefferson learned of this plot, he immediately ordered Lynch to find the ringleaders of the plot, arrange preliminary trials, and send those who appeared to possess the greatest amount of guilt to Richmond for further trial. Lynch quickly gathered about 75 prisoners and brought them to his plantation, Green Level (site of present-day Avoca Museum). With Judge Lynch presiding, some of the accused were acquitted for lack of evidence and others were imprisoned for terms ranging one to five years. Lynch chose to disregard Governor Jefferson’s directive to send the worst offenders to Richmond because of the time and cost of transporting his prisoners the considerable distance to Richmond. Beside these concerns, Lynch reasoned that Tories might arrange an ambush and spring upon the prisoner escort or furnish false witnesses that might serve to have guilty men acquitted. Hence, Judge Lynch would mete out his own version of frontier justice. Legend states that the worst offenders were tied by their thumbs to branches of a black walnut tree and given thirty-nine lashes with a whip known as the cat o’nine tails. If the convicted individual indicated a desire for mercy with the cry “Liberty forever!”, he would be spared the remaining lashes and would be entered into American military service for a period of one year. While Jefferson was displeased with Lynch’s disobedience, he admitted that Lynch’s “activity” deserved commendation. In 1782, the General Assembly passed an act indemnifying Lynch and his cohorts from legal action that might stem from this practice. The act asserted that the measures taken by the Judge against “evil disposed persons” were warranted given the emergency nature of the situation. This conclusion was reached despite the fact that those measures were “not strictly warranted by law”.

Although the definitive source of the word is unknown, some aspects of its origin are certain. Foremost, the term “lynching” is associated with the Lynch family. Charles Lynch was related to William Lynch and both counted FitzStephen Lynch as a forebear. Another surety is that the term did not originally pertain to racial violence. There is no evidence that violence was perpetuated against African-Americans for racist motivations on the land now occupied by Avoca Museum. In fact, there is no evidence that anyone met their demise due to an execution sentence from Judge Lynch. In 1780, Bedford County was a hotbed of Tory activity and sentiment. Prison rolls from that year reveal the names of Tory offenders that are recognizable to current community members. The names Hurt, English, Rust, and Huddleston all appeared on the rolls of suspected Tories. To execute one of these citizens was to invite no trifling amount of civil unrest. It would also have dramatically overstepped Governor Jefferson’s directive to merely try offenders on a preliminary basis and send the worst offenders to Richmond for further trial. All this is not to say, however, that African-Americans were not subjected to what modern observers might characterize the cruel and unusual punishment that Lynch’s Law has become synonymous. Several individuals whom Lynch identified as Negro laborers in his employ at the lead mines were subjected to Lynch’s Law for conspiring with Tories. They were subjected to such punishments at Oxford Furnace, on the grounds that, according to Lynch, they were engaged in activity deemed harmful to the Patriot cause. It should be noted, however, that the same fate was reserved for whites who were shown to be likewise employed. Indeed, the only time during the war that Lynch was accused of demonstrating a racial or ethnic prejudice was in his dealings with Welsh, not black workers.  

One possibility is that the Lynch’s Law story passed down to Charles, as he used the term to describe his enforcement of Patriot justice. Perhaps Col. Lynch heard his father spin yarns about his family history and the infamous event in which his ancestors had played a crucial role. 

The Patriot judge also served Virginia in a military capacity. In March of 1781, he led Bedford County militia into North Carolina to join forces with Gen. Nathaniel Greene’s army that was gathering in the vicinity of Guilford Court House. The battle that resulted in this confrontation saw Lynch’s militiamen assume a key position on the right flank of the first American line of battle. In this engagement, Lynch commanded riflemen armed with the famous Pennsylvania Rifle. According to an account of these men who were accustomed to hunting and outdoor life, the Virginia riflemen of the backcountry were a sight to see:

“The men generally wore hunting shirts of heavy tow linen; died brown with bark; they were open in front and made to extend down near to the knee and belted round the waist with dressed skin or woven girths. The sleeves were large, with a wrist band round the wrist and fringed over the upper part of the hand as far as the knuckles. Under the hunting shirt was a jacket made of some finer materials, and breeches of dressed buck or deer skin to just below the knees, with long stockings and moccasins of deer leather, and underneath the jacket or vest was also their linen which was made of the finer kinds of flax cloth. The hats were imported from England, Ireland or Scotland or as they said then “from home”—the crown was low round and fitted the head, with a broad a tree cornered or cock’d hat…profane language was very little used and continued to be so until the return however it became very prevalent and I believe was much used for many years afterward.”

The speaker provides a very telling statement concerning the tree cover along the second line as well as how the Virginia militia south of the road fought. He stated, “When we marched near the ground we charged our guns. Presently our brigade major came ordering us to take trees as we pleased. The men run to choose their trees, but with difficulty, many crowding to one, and some far behind others. Presently the Augusta men, and some of Col. Campbell’s men fell in at right angles to us” Houston’s version suggest that the tree cover south of the roadmay have been less thick were the speaker was stationed and also indicates that the Virginia militia fought not in a linear formation but as skirmishers.

Due to their proficiency with their rifled muskets, Lynch’s men were placed on the right flank and instructed to give the British two good shots before turning and fleeing from the enemy. The militia-surprisingly-fought well against their professional British counterparts in this battle. They inflicted high casualties, and fell back in an orderly fashion only to unleash additional volleys on the British as the King’s Army continued to advance. The battle was ultimately a victory for the British as they successfully chased the Americans from the field. However, this victory proved to be a pyrrhic one. One British Member of Parliament, George Fox, famously quipped that “Another such victory for our Army would ruin it!” The battle resulted in Lord Cornwallis’ loss of twenty-five percent of the army, leading him to eventually seek evacuation by the British Navy. He would by-and-by flee to the sleepy little fishing village of Yorktown, but his salvation would never arrive. The resulting siege would feature the last major battle of the Revolution. Colonel Charles Lynch was on the rolls as a field grade officer and present with his command at Yorktown. He was no doubt ecstatic to be there and participate in this last effort. It would not have been lost on him the significance of the situation, and the abiding effort of the tens of thousands of Americans like himself that helped bring about the result.