Religion & Rhetoric: The Significance of Religion to the Patriot Cause in the American Revolution

On By Ben PowersIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

     How significant was religious rhetoric in gathering support for resistance to Parliamentary authority in the lead-up to the American Revolution and the subsequent War for American Independence?  The historiography of the American Revolution includes several analyses of the struggle’s ideological roots. Historians consider whether colonial leaders identified with the Whig traditions of the Glorious Revolution, which placed monarchical power within a Parliamentary framework, or were more inspired by Enlightenment ideas focused on the natural rights of man and liberal notions of government by the consent of the governed.[1] The idea that the sources of inspiration for the rebellion, and much of its rhetoric, stemmed from religious rather than secular sources has received less attention, despite religion’s significance in the formation and administration of Britain’s North American colonies. Acknowledging the impact of religion on American revolutionary thought provides a more complete and balanced understanding of the inspiration for resistance during the War for Independence.

    Religious identity, clerical leadership, and the power of Scripture as an ideological rallying cry all played a role in shaping public opinion in favor of resistance to Parliamentary interference, and ultimately in supporting the movement for Independence in the American colonies.[2] While the group of colonial leaders known collectively as “The Founding Fathers” drew inspiration from the Enlightenment and political theorists such as John Locke, a great many of their supporters throughout the colonies viewed the conflict with England through a religious lens and employed the language of evangelicals inspired by the Great Awakening to frame their arguments against tyranny. [3]

     Additionally, many congregants of denominations established as Dissenters from the Church of England had extensive experience managing their own affairs, and they jealously guarded their sense of independence. As an example, Patricia Bonomi notes that Congregational Societies throughout colonial New England had extensive experience with governance systems in which the clergy and church members shared authority and responsibility. Through such arrangements, colonists learned to have a say in their own affairs, participated in a form of franchise through voting on church matters, and exercised budgetary control over ministers’ salaries.[4] In contrast to the traditions of Dissenting sects, the Church of England grew from a hierarchical tradition, in which centralized authority in the hands of the clergy controlled ecclesiastical affairs and church administration, with laity largely responsible for simply respecting the “descending hierarchy of the archbishop, bishop, and priest”.[5]

     Dissenting denominations other than Congregationalists, including Presbyterians, Baptists, and Quakers, participated in both spiritual and temporal activities in colonial parishes, largely due to an absence of qualified clergy. Communities throughout Britain’s North American colonies demanded centers of religious leadership and activity, and when qualified clergy was not available, they took matters into their own hands through lay preachers or, when possible, by availing themselves of visiting, itinerant clergy. The end result was a disparate collection of religious communities increasingly used to running their own affairs.[6] The Church of England in the colonies experienced the same shortage of qualified clergy, with no Archbishop for the American colonies and a tradition of locally elected vestrymen responsible for selecting and hiring ministers[7]. However, because the Anglican Church was hierarchical, with religious authority ultimately resting with the monarchy, local autonomy did not produce the same sense of independence found in other colonial denominations.[8] Dissenting sects specifically rejected the notion of being governed by a distant, centralized authority, and the sense of religious independence engendered by this development eventually entwined with a sense of autonomy in political affairs.

     The Great Awakening, an expansive revitalization of religious fervor experienced by Protestant congregations in Europe and the American colonies in the late 17th and early 18th centuries, reinforced the sense that religious communities existed within a covenant with God.[9] Great Awakening ministers such as George Whitefield preached a message of a personal relationship with God, brought on by encounters with the Holy Spirit, which detractors derided as religious enthusiasm that could upset the established social order.[10] Messages such as Whitefield’s shaped how many colonists viewed their relationship with God and fostered an interpretation that one’s natural rights stemmed from God rather than being granted by a sovereign. If a monarch refused to respect the natural rights of his people, the people had the right to resist. This interpretation meshed with the Enlightenment ideals of colonial leaders and served as a foundation for the movement towards American independence.[11]

     In the mid-19th century, a young man named Mellen Chamberlain interviewed an American participant in the first day’s fighting of the American Revolution, Captain Levi Preston of Danvers, Massachusetts. Preston fought against British troops as they retreated from Concord. Chamberlain’s record of the discussion included the following exchange:

              I suppose you have been reading Harrington, Sidney, and Locke about the eternal principle of liberty?”

             “I never heard of these men. The only books we had were the Bible, the Catechism, Watts’ psalms and hymns, and the almanacs.”

             “Well, then, what was the matter?”

              “Young man, what we meant in going for those Redcoats was this: we always had governed ourselves, and we always meant to. They didn’t mean we should.”[12]

      Preston’s responses to Chamberlain provide evidence of both the prevalence of religious literature in the homes of American colonists and their sense of autonomy. His statements are an example of what the Anglican Clergy of New York meant when they wrote to their superiors in England that Dissenters in general, and Presbyterians and Congregationalists in particular, were the active promoters of the rebellion.”[13]

     The religious rhetoric espoused by colonial clergy on the eve of the American Revolution nested especially well with the rational arguments of Enlightenment philosophers. As Mellen Chamberlain’s interview with Captain Levi Preston indicates, the average colonist was not familiar with arguments from Thomas Hobbes or John Locke about the natural rights of man or the social contract between those who governed and those who lived under that government. The appeals to Enlightenment ideals and Classical examples that inspired the leaders of the American Revolution who attended the Continental Congress would resonate little with the men who would be asked to fill the ranks of the rebellion’s regiments.[14] Leaders such as Thomas Jefferson recognized that the religious heritage of the American colonies, which included traditional calls to fast and pray for God’s intervention during times of crisis, was the exact language the colonial populations would understand, and that by invoking these traditions through the messages preached in colonial churches and meeting houses, common people would recognize the immediacy of the danger posed by Parliamentary interference in colonial affairs. Scriptural rhetoric was a common language that was understood throughout all of Britain’s American colonies, from New Hampshire to Georgia, recently strengthened and refreshed by the work of the ministers of the Great Awakening.[15]  Thus, American revolutionary leaders could link Enlightenment language to the Word of God to rally support for resistance.

     This linkage to Colonial American religious tradition proved particularly effective in support of calls to resistance because the forms of dissenting Protestantism practiced by the colonists embraced a tradition of martyrdom. Political resistance contained a religious element that professed that “(t)o be a ‘true American’ was to be willing to die for the revolutionary cause, and to die for the revolutionary cause was to earn a ticket to paradise.”[16] Thus, religious duty intertwined with political duty, and colonial clergy invoked the Gospels to call forth their congregations to fulfill their civic obligations. 

     Historian Karen O’Brien notes in her 2005 PhD dissertation that the leaders of the American Revolution recognized they needed to share their message through community religious activities. She describes how doing so helped in“building communal resolve for the war. . . help colonists dispense with their initial anxieties over war; (and) unite soldiers and their communities around a shared moral purpose.”[17] Additionally, O’Brien notes that “local religious meetings. . .—be they in a local church or a hastily improvised backcountry clearing— provided a stage for people to negotiate between individual moral duties and the greater public good. Furthermore, the Bible offered a common language of moral right and political resistance, a type of ethical lingua franca able to reach even the most common colonist.”[18]

     Religion played a significant role in community life from the establishment of Britain’s North American colonies. For example, when Puritans settled both the colony at Plymouth and the Massachusetts Bay Colony in the 17th century, a man had to be a full member of the church in order to exercise the right to vote.[19] Clergymen and religious lay leaders played prominent roles in their local communities, blurring the line between political and ecclesiastical affairs. Dissenting denominations became identified with colonial Whigs as tensions increased between the British Parliament and colonial legislatures after the Seven Years’ War. Revenue-producing legislation in the form of new taxes and stricter enforcement of mercantilist trading policies enacted in England became sources of political dissent, as colonial leaders viewed these policies as an infringement on their rights to govern their own affairs. Colonial pulpits broadcast calls to resist ministerial and monarchical oppression and rallied congregants to resist British tyranny. Massachusetts delegate to the Continental Congress extolled the clergy’s efforts, stating, “they with a fervor that will produce wonderful effects. Those … of every denomination . . . thunder and lighten every Sabbath.”[20]

     Ministers used the Scriptures to provide a moral undertone to messages of defiance of authority. Reverend Samuel Langdon, a New England Congregationalist Minister, raised the question of Divine protection of natural rights when he asked in a sermon, “may we not be confident that the Most High. . .will vindicate his owner, and plead our righteous cause against such enemies to his government, as well as our liberties?”[21] For Langdon, government ministers and members of Parliament were the enemies of the local governance colonists had practiced for generations. Likewise, Presbyterian Minister John Rodgers of New York preached a sermon on 1 Kings 18:12 in which he implored the men of his congregation to resist tyranny, expressing plainly that the colony’s “rights are now invaded, and your country’s cause now looks up to her free born sons for guardianship and protection.”[22] Rodgers not only made clear the threat of Parliamentary overreach, but implored his listeners to actively fight against it to protect their natural rights. 

     As affairs between England and her colonies deteriorated further, local Committees of Safety in New England, particularly in Massachusetts, began to reorganize and train militia forces and stockpile munitions. These efforts led to British operations to seize military stores, and one such operation on 19 April 1775 at Concord, Massachusetts, erupted into open, armed conflict. Eventually, the British government declared the American colonies in open rebellion against the monarchy; colonial clergy found their roles shifting from preaching the gospel of resistance to actively recruiting and supporting troops in the field.  Just as the clergy played a predominant role in calling for “liberty, independence, and a steady perseverance in endeavoring to shake off their allegiance to the mother country”[23], prior to April 19, 1775, they continued their efforts once the fighting began by assuming roles “peculiar to their character as ministers of the gospel, namely their activity as chaplains.”[24] Colonial ministers volunteered for military service, preached sermons to inspire men to arms, and joined military forces on campaign to provide spiritual comfort and mentorship.

     Once hostilities commenced, the need for chaplains exacerbated the lack of qualified clergy in the American colonies. As indicated previously, religion served an organizing function in colonial communities, and ministers were not always available to provide spiritual leadership. Once the War for Independence began, the need for chaplains in fighting regiments meant many communities lost their parish leadership, who volunteered their services with the Continental Army or local militias. As a result, the religious lives of those left behind might have suffered during the war because they lost the men who served pastoral functions in their communities in peacetime.[25]

     If religion was central to political and community life in Colonial America, it was no less important in military life once the colonies committed to armed resistance to British authority. Military leaders understood religion as a means to embolden, encourage, or chastise soldiers as the situation required, and they sought to ensure proper religious accommodations were available to their men.  This most often took the form of enlisting an appropriate clergyman to serve as a chaplain and look after the spiritual welfare of the men in the ranks. A good Chaplain ensured that men who came from different walks of life and disparate faith traditions were sustained by the message that God would bring them protection and victory if they adhered to his laws.[26] The role of a military chaplain covered three broad, but overlapping areas. For commanding officers, chaplains were critical for the maintenance of morale and good order and discipline; for the chaplains themselves, their role was an opportunity to be useful to the cause, placing the fight for independence in the context of the Scriptures, and another opportunity to spread the Gospel, while the troops in the ranks viewed chaplains as sources of comfort and aid while confronting loneliness, sickness and threat of wounds and death, as well as concern for families at home.[27]

      Continental officers codified the role of chaplains in maintaining good order and discipline almost immediately after Congress authorized the establishment of the Continental Army on June 14, 1775, appointing George Washington as its commanding general. Washington charged the chaplaincy with an array of duties, from looking after the morality of the soldiery, waging campaigns against vulgarity and alcohol in camp, setting an example of courage in combat, and providing the men the opportunity to regularly attend divine services.[28] Commanders expected chaplains to help inculcate in both officers and enlisted men a sense of moral superiority expected of soldiers fighting for republican ideals. Moral superiority went beyond merely displaying patriotic or soldierly behavior, but included behaving like a “virtuous, good man.”[29] According to historian Charles Metzger, developing this moral superiority proved challenging, as contemporary reports described Continental camps as filled with “the horrid sins of Cursing, swearing and other Vices with which . . . our Army vies with the most abandoned English troops.”[30] Chaplains also continued to attract fresh recruits to join Continental or militia regiments when other incentives, such as land or cash bounties, proved ineffective at enticing volunteers to the cause.[31]

      An examination of the Scriptural language employed by Continental and patriot militia chaplains throughout the war reveals that they utilized similar themes when addressing the troops consigned to their pastoral care. Issac Mansfield served as the chaplain of the Continental Army’s 2d Massachusetts Regiment during the Siege of Boston from the fall of 1775 through early 1776. Mansfield delivered A Sermon, Preached in the Camp at Roxbury, November 23, 1775; Being the Day Appointed by Authority for Thanksgiving through the Province as the men of the 2d Massachusetts faced cold, boredom, and restrictions of military discipline. The Siege of Boston began as a loose collection of Massachusetts militia regiments that surrounded Boston in the opening days of the American Revolution in April 1775. As the spring turned to summer, the other American colonies sent troops in support, and the Continental Congress in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, voted to organize these forces into a Continental Army, with Washington as its commanding general. The novelty, danger, and excitement of military life had long since evaporated by the fall of 1775. Mansfield used this sermon to remind his listeners that they had God to thank for protecting them throughout the siege and urged the troops to continue demonstrating Christian conduct to remain worthy of God’s blessings. 

     Mansfield’s sermon was laden with scriptural analogies, exemplifying how chaplains used religious allegories to demonstrate God’s sanction of the American Revolution. Mansfield’s preaching is biblically dense, beginning with Genesis 32:9–13 and the struggle between Jacob and Esau. The patriots are cast as Jacob, struggling against their more powerful brother, the British Army. Mansfield encourages the men of the regiment to continue to fight, illustrating through examples from Deuteronomy 28 and Proverbs 14 that God will bring success to their arms if they obey His commandments; if they fail to follow God’s laws, they will face a variety of calamities before being called before the Lord to face final judgment. Mansfield encourages the troops by reminding them that they have served for months in the field, with God protecting them from both disease and the death and wounds of battle, and that they have thrived by the grace of God rather than through their own efforts. He emphasizes that the men should endeavor to avoid sinful behavior that could offend God and thus bring about a reversal of fortune to the Continental Army. Mansfield cites Psalm 44 as he closes his sermon, encouraging the troops to place their faith in God rather than themselves for ultimate success.[32]

          Other Patriot chaplains from different regions and periods of the war used similar scriptural language when preaching to their military congregants. John Carmichael (A Self-Defensive War Lawful, June 4, 1775)[33], Israel Evans  (Brigade Thanksgiving Sermon, Dec 18, 1777)[34], and John Hurt  (The Love of Our Country, 1777, before Virginia troops)[35] all emphasized that God was on their side and they must continue to deserve God’s favor through morally correct behavior. The similarities between these sermons reveal a shared vocabulary of resistance rooted in Christian imagery that transcends any specific region or campaign of the American Revolution.[36]

     A Self-Defensive War Lawful, Proved in a Sermon, Preached at Lancaster, before Captain Ross’s Company of Militia, in the Presbyterian Church on Sabbath Morning, June 4th, 1775, marks the transition from political protest to armed resistance. Chaplain John Carmichael preached this sermon in Pennsylvania less than two months after the outbreak of hostilities at Lexington and Concord, Massachusetts. This moment carried significant weight, as it marked an irrevocable choice: men had to decide whether they were justified in taking up arms against their sovereign. Carmichael assured his listeners that they were embarking on a just war, in defense of their homes against an invasion. God provided all creatures with the means of self-defense, according to Carmichael, and He would not leave them “destitute of this necessary principle”. He further stressed that as followers of Jesus Christ, they were not only justified in, but duty-bound “to arm ourselves and use our arms for our own pre­servation against any invading enemy.”[37] Carmichael’s sermon is an excellent example of a chaplain motivating men to rally to the defense of their community while also assuaging their consciences that doing so was right in the eyes of God.

     Chaplains in the field used remarkably similar language to sustain the spirits of soldiers in vastly dissimilar circumstances. Sermons thanking God for victory or asking Him for strength and fortitude in times of trial could both emphasize doing one’s duty to please God, regardless of a battle or campaign’s outcome. Chaplain John Hurt served as the chaplain for the Virginia Regiments of the Continental Army, known as the Virginia Line, troops with an elite reputation. Hurt gave The Love of Our Country: A Sermon Preached before the Virginia Troops in New Jersey, June 1777,at the beginning of the 1777 Campaign season. This was a remarkably difficult time for the Continental Army, which had almost ceased to exist the previous year during the fighting around New York City. An invading British Army had seized the city from Washington and his troops, who took tremendous casualties, mostly taken prisoner, and were driven across New Jersey into Pennsylvania. Washington managed to secure victories with raids against Trenton and Princeton, New Jersey, at the end of the campaign, giving the patriot cause a glimmer of hope, but the British held the initiative as the 1777 campaign began. Hurt’s sermon exhorts the men to do their patriotic duty with a spirit of self-sacrifice, comparing duty to one’s country with duty to God. A soldier who fought well pleased the Lord as well as his country, regardless of outcome.

     Chaplain Israel Evans’ A Discourse, Delivered December 18, 1777, Being the Day of Public Thanksgiving, in the Brigade of the American Army Commanded by General Poor, celebrated the victory of General Horatio Gates’ Northern Army at the Battles of Saratoga in September and October of 1777. This victory marked the first instance of a British Army surrendering to American forces in the field in the War for Independence, with 8,000 British and Hessian troops captured, and resulted in overt French support for the American war effort. Evans preached that such a complete victory was Providential, but the troops could only deserve such Divine support by continuing to serve with a spirit of bravery, self-sacrifice, and moral correctness. He further emphasized that the troops should show such behavior regardless of whether they succeeded in battle, because in doing so they pleased God. The outcome of their battles was secondary to ensuring their behavior was correct according to the Lord’s commandments.

      It is worth noting the similarity of language, biblical themes, and messaging used by Mansfield, Carmichael, Hurt, and Evans in their messages to the troops. Despite coming from different faith traditions, geographic regions, and fighting in a variety of circumstances, each chaplain emphasizes that success at arms comes through the grace of God, yet the men must endeavor to prove worthy of that grace through upright conduct and obedience to God’s commands. Each sermon draws on the Psalms, Proverbs, and Deuteronomy, emphasizing that God protects the righteous and punishes the sinful, reinforcing the notion that Providence will favor the Patriot cause, but that they must do their part through proper conduct and devotion to the Lord.

    Rank-and-file soldiers sought out the preaching of their chaplains and took comfort from their sermons. Ammi Robbins, a Continental chaplain from Connecticut, wrote that “there appears a great desire among the people, at least many of them, to hear the Gospel” from among the men in camp. He observed that the men would travel great distances to hear a sermon preached, noting that many men had walked “some six or seven miles, as sheep without a shepherd.”[38]Despite the evident desire of the troops to hear their chaplains preach, they thought of the impact of Divine Providence in much more personal and pragmatic terms than those used by clergy in their sermons. Years of campaigning exposed the troops to primitive living conditions, extremes of weather, sudden violence, the risk of wounds and death, and bouts of homesickness. While the men sought comfort in the words of their chaplains, their view of God’s blessings commonly focused on Providence’s role in their personal experiences.[39]  Samuel Haws, who fought against the British at the Battle of Bunker Hill in Charlestown, Massachusetts, in June of 1775, attributed his survival to God’s grace, writing that despite being heavily engaged by British troops “through the good hand of Divine providence in all their firing they did not kill one man nor wound any except one or two slightly.”[40] Similarly, another Continental soldier, Joseph Plumb Martin, considered that the will of Providence was imponderable after one firefight, recording that a comrade was killed and “(H)had I been at the same business I might have been killed but it might have been otherwise order(ed) by Divine Providence, we might have both lived.”[41]

     The men did not consider only God’s blessings when thinking about surviving in battle. During the 1775 expedition through the Maine wilderness to besiege Quebec, Canada, the men lacked provisions, shelter, and clothing as they marched and paddled northward. One soldier, Abner Stocking, reflected that he had taken such things for granted until they were not available: “Little thought I, do we know of the value of the common blessings of Providence, until we are deprived of them.”[42] Thus, for the troops on the line, God and the chaplains who preached his word were more often sources of spiritual comfort rather than sacrificial inspiration. 

     The centrality of religion to the lives of colonial Americans, combined with the importance military commanders, clergymen, and the soldiers themselves placed on the availability of religious support, made chaplains an expected presence in nearly every campaign of the American Revolution, from William Emmerson accompanying the Minutemen at the Battle of Concord in April 1775, where he encouraged the militia to stand fast and telling them,  “Your cause is just and God will bless you!”[43], to John Ellis of the 1st Connecticut Regiment at the British surrender at Yorktown, Virginia, in October 1781. Ellis enlisted during the Siege of Boston in 1775, served through the winter at Valley Forge, Pennsylvania in 1777-1778, and stood in the firing line at the Battle of Monmouth, New Jersey. Chaplains served with regular troops, short-service militia, at sea with American warships and privateers, and even continued to minister to the troops when taken prisoner by the enemy. [44]

      Religious language fueled the rhetoric of rebellion throughout the American colonies between the end of the Seven Years’ War and the outbreak of the American Revolution. Colonists had grown used to self-determination in local affairs, religious practices independent of central authority, and the idea that their natural rights came from God alone. They found inspiration in clergymen who used Scripture to express resistance to tyranny. When political resistance turned to armed struggle, religious language continued to inspire men to enlist, fight, and endure. Clergymen became chaplains in a variety of Continental and militia military organizations, offering a message of continuity: the struggle for independence was a fight for their God-granted rights.

[1] Patricia U. Bonomi, “‘Hippocrates’ Twins’: Religion and Politics in the American Revolution,” The History Teacher 29, no. 2 (February 1996): 137.

[2] Bonomi, “‘Hippocrates’ Twins,’” 138.

[3] Bonomi, “‘Hippocrates’ Twins,’” 138.

[4] Bonomi, “‘Hippocrates’ Twins,’” 140.

[5] Bonomi, “‘Hippocrates’ Twins,’” 139.

[6] Bonomi, “‘Hippocrates’ Twins,’” 140.

[7] Bonomi, “‘Hippocrates’ Twins,’” 141.

[8] Bonomi, “‘Hippocrates’ Twins,’” 143.

[9] Thomas S. Kidd, America’s Religious History: Faith, Politics, and the Shaping of a Nation (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan Academic, 2019): 32.

[10] Hannah Schell and Daniel Ott, Christian Thought in America: A Brief History (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2015): 61.

[11] Kidd, America’s Religious History, 52.

[12] David Hackett Fischer, Paul Revere’s Ride (New York: Oxford University Press, 1994), 164.

[13] Bonomi, “‘Hippocrates’ Twins,’” 142.

[14] Emory Elliott, “The Dove and Serpent: The Clergy in the American Revolution,” American Quarterly 31, no. 2 (Summer 1979): 187.

[15] Elliott, “The Dove and Serpent,” 188.

[16] John Fanestil, American Heresy: The Roots and Reach of White Christian Nationalism (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2023), 149.

[17] Karen Elizabeth O’Brien, “Pragmatic Toleration: Lived Religion, Obligation, and Political Identity in the American Revolution” (PhD diss., Northwestern University, 2005): 92.

[18] O’Brien, “Pragmatic Toleration,” 92.

[19] John H. Schaar, “Liberty/Authority/Community in the Political Thought of John Winthrop,” Political Theory 19, no. 4 (November 1991): 517.

[20] Derek H. Davis, “Religion and the American Revolution,” Journal of Church and State 36, no. 4 (Autumn 1994): 710.

[21] Davis, “Religion and the American Revolution,” 710.

[22] Valerie Paley, “A Spirit of Patriotism: John Rodgers and New York City’s First Presbyterian Church in the American Revolution,” Journal of Presbyterian History 94, no. 2 (Fall/Winter 2016): 56.

[23] Charles H. Metzger, “Chaplains in the American Revolution,” The Catholic Historical Review 31, no. 1 (April 1945): 31.

[24] Metzger, “Chaplains in the American Revolution,” 31.

[25] Richard W. Pointer, “Religious Life in New York during the Revolutionary War,” New York History 66, no. 4 (October 1985): 361.

[26] O’Brien, “Pragmatic Toleration,” 124.

[27] O’Brien, “Pragmatic Toleration,” 147.

[28] Metzger, “Chaplains in the American Revolution,” 53-54.

[29] Craig Bruce Smith, American Honor: The Creation of the Nation’s Ideals during the Revolutionary Era (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2018), 106.

[30] Metzger, “Chaplains in the American Revolution,” 53.

[31] O’Brien, “Pragmatic Toleration,” 165.

[32] Isaac Mansfield, A Sermon, Preached in the Camp at Roxbury, November 23, 1775; Being the Day Appointed by Authority for Thanksgiving through the Province (Boston: S. Hall, 1776).

[33] John Carmichael, A Self-Defensive War Lawful, Proved in a Sermon, Preached at Lancaster, before Captain Ross’s Company of Militia, in the Presbyterian Church on Sabbath Morning, June 4th, 1775 (Lancaster, PA: Francis Bailey, 1775).

[34] Israel Evans, A Discourse, Delivered December 18, 1777, Being the Day of Public Thanksgiving, in the Brigade of the American Army Commanded by General Poor (Boston: Thomas and John Fleet, 1778).

[35] John Hurt, The Love of Our Country: A Sermon Preached before the Virginia Troops in New Jersey, June 1777 (Philadelphia: Styner and Cist, 1777).

[36] O’Brien, “Pragmatic Toleration,” 57.

[37] Carmichael, Self-Defensive War Lawful, 4–5.

[38] Roberto Oscar Flores de Apodaca, “‘Alas My Backsliding hart!’: The Religious Worldview and Culture of Continental Soldiers in New England, 1775–1783,” Journal of Presbyterian History 97, no. 1 (Spring/Summer 2019): 12.

[39] Flores de Apodaca, “‘Alas My Backsliding hart!,’” 8.

[40] Flores de Apodaca, “‘Alas My Backsliding hart!,’” 8.

[41] Flores de Apodaca, “‘Alas My Backsliding hart!,’” 8.

[42] Flores de Apodaca, “‘Alas My Backsliding hart!,’” 8.

[43] Jack Darrell Crowder, Chaplains of the Revolutionary War: Black Robed American Warriors (Jefferson, NC: McFarland & Company, 2017), 66.

[44] Crowder, Chaplains of the Revolutionary War, 66.

Book Review: Brady J. Crytzer, The National Road: George Washington and America’s First Highway West (Diversion Books, 2026), 368 pages, $32.50

On By Eric SternerIn Book Review, Uncategorized, Western Frontier1 Comment

After returning from the War of American Independence, George Washington turned to his pre-war focus on the west, the vast lands beyond the Appalachians that had launched his public career as young Virginia militia officer and messenger for Lieutenant Governor Robert Dinwiddie in 1753.   In 1784, he ventured to southwestern Pennsylvania and held a meeting with prominent locals.  The question he put before them was finding the best way to connect the Potomac River with the Ohio River.   It was rough country and the task would never be easy, but opening a reliable and robust route between the two would open Virginia’s access to the Ohio Valley more easily than the narrow passes and valleys that led to the Kanawha River or along the spine of the Appalachians to the Cumberland Gap through Kentucky.  Washington’s interests were, of course, personal.  He had invested heavily in the Ohio Country and stood to make, protect, or lose a personal fortune.  

But, Washington’s interests were also public.  He had long viewed the west as critical to the future of Virginia, and now the new United States.   With the war over and independence secured, it had only become more so.  Washington had personally experienced the sectional and regional differences that threatened to tear the country apart.  As people flooded into the new territories won in the war, the east-west divisions had grown worse.  Everything produced in one section and consumed in another had to be hauled across the Appalachians, a time-consuming, back-breaking effort that couldn’t happen fast enough for agricultural products.  By connecting the rivers, Washington hoped to bind east and west together, strengthening the economic, social, and political bonds that were critical to building the new country.  

The father of his country wasn’t alone in that thought.  The Swiss-born Albert Gallatin, who opted to make his home in the west, shared it.  Rising through a series of political offices, from state representative, to Federal representative, to Pennsylvania Senator, to Secretary of the Treasury for both the Jefferson and Madison Administrations, Gallatin picked up the baton as Washington passed from the scene.  Although they had radically different politics and ideas of national interest, Gallatin focused on establishing a national road at the federal expense by setting aside a portion of proceeds from land sales in the west.  After much political maneuvering, Gallatin and the westerners got a law for their road enacted in 1806.  The resulting work would become the National Road, America’s first federal interstate highway.  A decade later, as work progressed, Gallatin moved from the Treasury Department and national finance to the work of a diplomat with postings as the ambassador to France and then the United Kingdom.  

While Gallatin shifted his focus to foreign affairs, Henry Clay of Kentucky picked up the baton of tying the country together and using roads to build figurative, and literal, bridges among America’s different groups.  Clay served in the U.S. Senate early in his career, but it may have been his position as Representative from Kentucky and Speaker of the House that he learned the art of compromise and established his reputation as someone with the skills to bring warring factions together, at least sufficiently enough to keep the country growing and getting stronger.  The National Road became his project.

Award-winning historian Brady J. Crytzer takes up this broader tale of building a new country as it moved westward in his latest book: The National Road: George Washington and America’s First Highway West.  Ostensibly, it’s about building the road and tackles the nitty-gritty job of exploring a route, surveying, cutting, hauling, pounding, and managing the construction of a road in the 19th century.   Along the way, the technology changes, the money runs out, the road needs repairing, and competition crops up from canals and railroads.  The road ran from Cumberland, MD to Vandalia, Il, but by the time it reached its western portions, the hard road painstakingly built through Maryland, Pennsylvania, Virginia and Ohio had become a slapdash affair of dirt, mud, ruts, and washouts.  Eventually, time passed the road by and it fell into perpetual disrepair, useful more for local traffic than knitting states together.  

Ultimately, though, The National Road is really about the people, from world historical figures like George Washington and national leaders like Gallatin and Clay to everyday drovers, bridge builders, settlers, and legendary Black teamsters like Sam Nimmey.  The panoply of people that define a nation are all here. (Civil War buffs will even be pleased to find an appearance by Charles Ellet Jr., a civil engineer and bridge builder who went on to construct rams for United States Navy.) Building the road becomes a narrative structure for telling a larger story of the United States as it moved west from the time of the founding fathers through the time of governing compromises and pending Civil War.  Solidly grounded in history, Crytzer clearly writes with an eye on the reader’s experience. With The National Road, Crytzer has given the public another excellent work of early American history and a wonderful peek into the complexities of doing big things.  He ensures we understand it’s not just a road, it’s the story of diverse people coming together for a common purpose.

Yorktown, Duolingo, and Putting it to the Test

On By Phill GreenwaltIn 1775, America 250, Battlefields & Historic Places, Battles, British Leadership, Campaigns, Continental Leadership, Emerging Revolutionary War, Memory, Northern Theater, Revolutionary WarLeave a comment

Situated near the York River, across the street from the American Revolution Museum of Yorktown, sits a monument commemorating the French soldiers that fought, bled, and for some, gave their lives during the siege.

A few years ago, or 1421 days ago to be exact, I pulled over into the parking lot for that monument, walked up, and gave a cursory look at the names and the wording. I did not speak or read French–much to the detriment of my French teacher in high school I must say–but determined there that I would. Later that same evening I downloaded the language learning app Duolingo and started a streak, which if you had not guessed already, has reached 1421 straight days.

I recently went back to that monument and could at least interpret enough of the wording to understand the gist. Good start.

The monument in question
Author collection

I now take that rudimentary language foundation capability on the road. Where may you ask?

Screenshot to confirm streak

Next week, after deciding approximately a whole 10 days ago, that following the wedding of a cousin in Connecticut, I would drive the remaining 7 hours to Quebec, Canada. Impromptu? Kind of. Just have to remember to pack my passport!

A bucket list item of mine in the history column is to see the famous Plains of Abraham, from one of the climactic battles of the French and Indian (Seven Years’ War), fought 267 years ago this month, on September 13. I also want to walk the last footsteps of General Richard Montgomery as he led an unsuccessful attack by the fledging rebellious American military against the British during the first winter of the American Revolution. I may have missed the anniversary but at least I am within the same year-ish (since the battle was fought on New Year’s Eve 1775).

Side note, Maryland honors Montgomery by a county named in his honor, one of, if not the first, place, county, town, etc. to be named for a person not related to the British monarchy, aristocracy, or gentry. Along with Washington, the two counties in Maryland were siphoned off of Frederick in 1776.

Stay tuned next, week to Emerging Revolutionary War’s Facebook page as I will go live there.

And then I will retreat to a Quebec cafe…or brewery and test out my French…so if you have a suggestion of a can’t miss place, drop a comment below!

-à bientôt-








			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Rev War Revelry: Kip’s Bay and Harlem Heights

						

				On  By Daniel WelchIn 1776, America 250, Armies, Battlefields & Historic Places, Battles, British Leadership, Campaigns, Common Soldier, Emerging Revolutionary War, Emerging Revolutionary War Series, New York Campaign, Northern Theater, Preservation, Rev War Revelry, Revolutionary WarLeave a comment			

					


		

			








Join us this Sunday at 7pm as we ERW authors and historians Dan Welch and Mark Maloy continue their 250th anniversary coverage of the New York Campaign. They’ll chat with us about the events following the Continentals retreat from Long Island, Nathan Hale, the Turtle, the Peace Conference, and of course the fighting at Kip’s Bay and Harlem Heights. Welch and Maloy’s new book, “Conquer or Die” will be available this fall. This Revelry will be LIVE on our Facebook and You Tube pages at 7pm.





Be sure to subscribe to our You Tube Channel for hundreds of hours of free content on the American Revolutionary Era! https://www.youtube.com/@emergingrevolutionarywar8217







			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
If ERW were one of the Founders. . . .

						

				On  By Chris MackowskiIn America 250, Emerging Revolutionary War, Personalities, Revolutionary War1 Comment			

					


		

			

This week, during a conference call, someone asked Rob Orrison, Neil Chatelain, and me, “Which figure from the Revolution is ERW most like?”






Stephen Hopkins






The first person who jumped to mind was Stephen Hopkins of Rhode Island. Although none of us wears a cool hat like Hopkins does, it was easy to think of ERW as the guy in the back of the room, drinking a mug of rum or beer or grog and offering commentary on events. Hopkins had served several stints as Rhode Island’s colonial governor and served as chief justice of the colonial court during the infamous Gaspée affair. He was good natured and earnest, and John Adams said, “He kept us alive” with his energy. “Hopkins never drank to excess,” Adams said, “but all he drank was immediately not only converted into Wit, Sense, Knowledge and good humor, but inspired Us all with similar qualities.”





Or how about John Adams, as Rob suggested? (He knew I’d love that one!) Not only was Adams a writer, he was also a workhorse, like most of the regular contributors who keep ERW going—a small cadre of folks who each do a lot of work. Adams was also prickly, Rob pointed out, just as many of ERW’s folks are (a bit of self-revealing honesty there!). Adams preferred beer to cider, so I thought we’d have to swap that out, but Rob reminded me that few of us would turn down free cider.





I suggested Ben Franklin. Franklin had a background in printing and writing—something central to ERW—and was also generally good humored. He liked to have a good time—“Perhaps too good of a time,” someone in the conversation piped in—and always situated himself at the social center of any scene. ERW is, if nothing else, social. Rob did point out that Franklin was a genius in many, many areas, while ERW is pretty focused in its work, but personality wise, it’s a good match.





The question put us on the spot, so those were our initial answers. What do YOU think? If ERW was a figure from the Revolution, who would ERW be most like?







			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Review: “An Underappreciated Victory; Bernardo de Gálvez’s Mississippi River Campaign Against the British in 1779” by Stephen L. Kling, Jr. and Kristine L. Sjostrom

						

				On  By Phill GreenwaltIn Battlefields & Historic Places, Battles, Book Review, Emerging Revolutionary War, Memory, Personalities, Revolutionary War, Western Frontier1 Comment			

					


		

			

The American Revolution is often remembered through the familiar lens of successful campaigns and their contributing commanders: General George Washington at Yorktown, Virginia, and General Horatio Gates at Saratoga, New York, to name two of the most significant. Yet the Revolution was an international conflict fought across a much wider geographic area than just along the eastern seaboard of North America.  In An Underappreciated Victory, Stephen L. Kling, Jr. and Kristine L. Sjostrom seek to restore one of these overlooked campaigns to its proper place in the history of the war. Their study of Bernardo de Gálvez’s 1779 Mississippi River campaign demonstrates how Spain, despite pursuing its own strategic interests, contributed materially to the defeat of Britain and how Gálvez’s leadership produced significant results with remarkably limited resources.





The authors begin by establishing the strategic importance of Spanish Louisiana and the Mississippi River Valley. Following Spain’s entry into the war against Britain in 1779, Louisiana became both a potential target for British operations and a valuable base from which Spain could threaten British possessions. New Orleans was particularly vulnerable. British control of posts along the Mississippi posed a danger to Spanish interests while also threatening communications and commerce throughout the region. Rather than remain on the defensive, Gálvez recognized an opportunity to seize the initiative.





It is in this decision that the authors make one of their strongest arguments about Gálvez’s leadership. His forces were hardly overwhelming, and the campaign presented formidable logistical challenges. Distance, weather, disease, difficult terrain, transportation problems, and uncertain intelligence, all complicated operations. Gálvez nevertheless chose an offensive strategy. His willingness to act before the British could concentrate their forces became one of the campaign’s defining characteristics. The resulting operations against British positions, culminating in the capture of Baton Rouge and other posts, demonstrated the effectiveness of surprise, mobility, intelligence, and decisive leadership. 












Kling and Sjostrom are very effective in showing that the campaign cannot be understood solely through its engagements. Logistics and geography receive significant attention, revealing the extent to which environmental conditions shaped military possibilities along the Mississippi River. The campaign’s success therefore becomes more impressive when measured against the obstacles continuing to confront Gálvez. His achievement was not simply that he defeated British forces; it was that he managed to organize and sustain an offensive in an environment that severely restricted the movement and supply of armies.





Another of the book’s greatest strengths is its use of multinational sources. By incorporating Spanish, British, and German accounts, the authors move beyond the predominantly Anglo-American perspective that has traditionally dominated Revolutionary War narratives. These sources allow them to reconstruct events from competing viewpoints and provide greater insight into the decisions made by both sides. Their documentary approach also strengthens the case for reconsidering Gálvez’s campaign as a serious military operation rather than an isolated episode on the margins of the Revolution.





The book’s greatest historiographical contribution, however, lies in its reassessment of Spain’s role in the American Revolution. Spain did not enter the war solely to assist the American colonies; it had territorial, commercial, and geopolitical objectives of its own. Nevertheless, those objectives frequently aligned with the interests of the American revolutionaries. Gálvez’s campaign illustrates how Spanish military operations diverted British attention and resources while weakening British control of the Gulf Coast and Mississippi Valley. The authors therefore broaden the traditional interpretation of the Revolution from an Anglo-American struggle supported by France into a genuinely international conflict.





The study is not without potential limitations. This book is a deep and exhaustive study of a particular subsect of war, designed to be the volume on this aspect. Similarly, the authors’ admiration for Gálvez occasionally raises the question of whether they attribute his successes too heavily to exceptional leadership rather than to a combination of favorable circumstances, British weaknesses, and Spanish strategic interests. Nevertheless, the evidence presented makes a convincing case that Gálvez exercised considerable initiative and understood the advantages of striking quickly against dispersed British positions.





Ultimately, An Underappreciated Victory shows that the importance of a military campaign cannot always be measured by the size of participants or soldiers. Gálvez’s 1779 Mississippi campaign involved relatively modest forces compared with the armies that fought at Saratoga or Yorktown, yet its strategic consequences were considerably greater than its obscurity might suggest. Kling and Sjostrom provide a valuable reconstruction of the campaign while challenging readers to reconsider the geographic and international dimensions of the American Revolution. Their study establishes Gálvez not merely as a peripheral Spanish commander but as an important participant in the broader struggle against Britain. In doing so, An Underappreciated Victory makes a persuasive case that the campaign—and Gálvez himself—deserve a more prominent place in the history of the American Revolution.





THGC Publishing, St. Louis, MO
2026
634 pages, including images
$50.00







			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
250 Years Ago Today: The Heroic Charges of the Maryland 400

						

				On  By Mark MaloyIn UncategorizedLeave a comment			

					


		

			

On August 27, 1776, in Brooklyn, New York, a small contingent of Maryland soldiers showed the world what valor and patriotism looked like. During one of the largest and bloodiest battles of the Revolutionary War, the actions of these brave soldiers would earn them the venerated name of the Maryland 400.






The Maryland 400 monument in Prospect Park on August 27, 2026. (Author photo)






At the Battle of Long Island, the American Army was strung out in a long line across modern day Brooklyn facing south, with Washington and his headquarters located at Brooklyn Heights. However, Washington and the Americans had failed to guard the extreme left flank of the American line. As a result, British General William Howe divided his army in two, attacked the American main line head on to hold them in position, while British Generals Charles Cornwallis and Henry Clinton marched around the American flank and attacked from the east.






A statue of Minerva stands on Battle Hill in Green-Wood Cemetery with one hand placed on the Altar of Liberty, while her other hand salutes the Statue of Liberty in New York Harbor. (Author photo)






As the battle played out during the day of the 27th, the men of the 1st Maryland Regiment, under the temporary command of Major Mordeci Gist, were positioned on the right flank of the American Army, near present day Green-Wood Cemetery. Gist’s men were in General William Alexander’s (Lord Stirling’s) brigade. Stirling’s men were engaged heavily that morning as they fought the diversionary force in their front. The battle raged on what is today known as Battle Hill, and the Americans felt confident they were winning the day’s battle.






A new map of the Battle of Long Island from the book Conquer or Die: The 1776 New York Campaign by Mark Maloy and Dan Welch.






Late in the morning though, the Marylanders began to hear the sounds of musketry and cannon fire coming in from their left and rear. They soon realized that the American position had been flanked and that they would soon be totally surrounded and annihilated. They were immediately ordered to retreat. They fell back to the banks of Gowanus Creek, which had to be crossed to reach the relative safety of Brooklyn Heights. The bridge across the Creek had been burnt and the Americans would have to swim across to escape. As the Americans stood looking at the Creek, Cornwallis and his Light Infantry appeared and began to fire on the retreating American soldiers. Cornwallis sent some of his men to occupy an old stone house (the Vechte-Cortelyou House) near the creek and fire into the panicking men. At this critical juncture, with the whole of Stirling’s brigade about to be crushed, Stirling ordered Gist’s men to charge the British line.






The Vechte-Cortelyou House on August 27, 2026.  Today it is known as the Old Stone House in Brooklyn.  This is a reconstruction of the original building, using the original materials.  While most of the Brooklyn battlefield is unrecognizable from 1776, this building stands as a reminder of the borough’s Revolutionary War history and has a museum located inside it. (Author photo)






It was an impossible task, and Gist and his soldiers probably knew it too. Gist, with less than 400 men was to assault the vanguard of an entire British division, numbering at least 2,000 men with artillery. But, Stirling needed something to allow his division to escape into Brooklyn Heights. He himself would stay and fight with this rearguard. The Marylanders, in their first real battle, didn’t hesitate at all. Closing up their ranks, the Old Line pushed forward into the hailstorm of lead numerous times. As musket balls thinned their lines, the Marylanders would fall back, reform and strike again. On a hill at Brooklyn Heights, Washington watched the action in his spyglass. “Good God! What brave fellows I must this day lose!” he exclaimed as he witnessed the sacrifice of some of his best soldiers.






A 19th century image of the fighting by the Marylanders at Brooklyn. (New York Public Library)






The brash and bold attacks had the exact effect Stirling needed.  The British, temporarily stunned by the attacks, paused to fight this small contingent of soldiers.  Meanwhile the remainder of Stirling’s men successfully crossed Gowanus Creek and arrived in the main American lines.  General Stirling, still fighting from horseback was eventually surrounded and captured by some Hessian soldiers.





After a sixth and final charge by the Maryland troops, Gist’s command had been effectively destroyed. Gist and a handful of his men finally fell back and crossed Gowanus Creek themselves.  The Marylanders had helped many American troops escape capture and death, and also caused a diversion that stopped any possible assault on the main American position at Brooklyn Heights.  Gist and a few dozen survivors had made it back to the main army, but back on the fields around the Vechte-Cortelyou House 256 Marylanders lay dead or dying.  It was one of the highest number of casualties a regiment would lose in the war.






An old metal sign at an American Legion post in Brooklyn on August 27, 2026 denotes the possible burial location of the 256 Marylanders. (Author Photo)






The battle was all but over.  It appeared that the 9,000 Americans who were now holed up on Brooklyn Heights would all be captured, but Washington successfully evacuated the entire army over to Manhattan.  The war would continue for seven more years and end with independence for America, but that may not have been the case had the Maryland troops not sacrificed themselves for the fellow men, and bought the American Army precious time.






Cover of the upcoming book Conquer or Die: The 1776 New York Campaign.






250 years later, many New Yorkers walk throughout the Park Slope neighborhood, unaware of how hallowed the ground is they tread on. Thankfully, people are doing more to bring this history to light. This past weekend a reenactment of the battle was held in Brooklyn’s Prospect Park and at the Old Stone House museum. Check out Emerging Revolutionary War’s realtime coverage of the fighting on our Facebook page. This November Emerging Revolutionary War’s Mark Maloy and Dan Welch will release a new book about these battles and the places you can visit today.  Check out the new book Conquer or Die: The 1776 New York Campaign and pre-order it today!  This August 27, remember the brave men of the Maryland 400 and the freedom they died for.


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
The 1776 New York Campaign: 250 Years Later

						

				On  By Daniel WelchIn 1776, America 250, Armies, Battlefields & Historic Places, Battles, British Leadership, Campaigns, Charles Lee, Emerging Revolutionary War, Emerging Revolutionary War Series, Hessian (German), New York Campaign, Revolutionary WarLeave a comment			

					


		

			

The New York Campaign had been building for over year by August 1776. In July 1775, previous British commander of forces in America, Thomas Gage, had sent a request to his superiors to be allowed to leave Boston and begin a new campaign in New York. Following Lexington, Concord, and Bunker Hill, Gage’s force remained bottled up and besieged in and around Boston and Charleston. When word of approval of Gage’s plan reached Boston, so too did orders relieving him of command. Before he departed for England in October 1775, he met with his successor, William Howe, and greatly stressed the importance of moving the theater of war to New York. Howe would follow Gage’s preplanning and approval to the letter, including waiting until the spring to began the shift in the army’s base of operations. Howe’s timetable, however, was moved up after the arrival of Henry Knox’s artillery train and the placement of guns on Dorchester Heights. On March 17, 1776, Howe and 11,000 troops and Loyalist citizens sailed for Nova Scotia. Foreshadowing the British departure and the location of the next campaign in a letter written two days before they set sail, Col. Joseph Reed, later George Washington’s adjutant-general, correctly asserted, “If Howe should leave Boston, we expect he will make for New York; and, at all events, we look upon that as one of the scenes of the summer business.”





Meanwhile, George Washington also looked to New York as the next seat of this growing conflict. In January he sent Charles Lee to begin laying out a position for the Continental Army to take once it shifted southward from Boston. Not long after Lee arrived in February 1776 he assured the Committee of Safety that even though he could see no way to make New York into a “tenable fortification” he could make a position strong enough to be “a most advantageous field of battle” that would “cost the enemy many thousands of men to get possession of it.” Just two months later, on April 13, Washington and the Continental Army arrived. 





The Continental Army commander had no other choice than to do what he could in New York. There was immense political pressure on Washington not to abandon it, the Congress believing it had high political and psychological value. Many in Congress believed abandoning it would demoralize the Patriot cause and swell the morale of the Loyalist population in the city and colony thereof. Furthermore, it was a central location along the Atlantic coast and a conduit of communication and supplies between New England and the southern colonies via the Hudson River. Furthermore, the Hudson River/Lake Champlain corridor remained a vital passage to Canada and the Great Lakes. New York was also a bustling economic hub, the second largest urban center in the colonies, with a port, shipbuilding, and deep-water harbor had immense naval and trade value. Widely considered as the “key to the continent,” Washington would have a difficult task defend the city, it’s deep water port, and the numerous navigable waterways; all reasons the British wanted to seize the city in their effort cutoff New England from the middle and southern colonies. Writing to his brother, John Augustine Washington, between May 31 and June 4, 1776, he confessed, “We expect a very bloody Summer of it at New York . . . & I am sorry to say that we are not, either in Men, or Arms, prepared for it.”










Finally, after several months of resupplying and refitting his army in Nova Scotia, William Howe and his command arrived on Staten Island, unopposed, in June 1776. Pvt. Daniel McCurtin, 1st Company of Maryland Rifles, recorded the British arrival, noting he saw, “the whole Bay was full of shipping as ever it could be. I declare that I thought all London was afloat.”Over the coming weeks he would be joined by his brother, Richard, with large numbers of reinforcements, ships, transports, supplies, and Hessians. Although the two brothers leaned into their role of peace commissioners, attempting to end this growing rebellion through pardons and not bloodshed in July, by August, with no peaceful resolution insight, military preparations moved forward.





On August 20, 1776, British troops began loading onto ships and transports from their Staten Island camps, and 250 years ago today, August 22, 1776, the first British troops landed on Long Island at Denyse’s Ferry. Howe had chosen this site for its richness and crops and plentiful livestock in which to supply his army. Still unsure of Howe’s intentions, and constantly worried about his flank and rear being turned by the British Navy, Washington had spread his army dangerously thin across several islands with waterways separating reinforcements should the need for them arise. Thus, on August 22, Washington only had 3,000 men, John Nixon and Nathaniel Heard’s brigades, and some Long Island militia in which to contest the landing. All they could really do was raise the alarm. By the end of the day 20,000 British troops were on Long Island. Only time would tell, at least for Washington, whether or not this would be Howe’s main push or simply a diversion to another beachhead and main strike. 










Learn more about the 1776 New York Campaign with ERW’s forthcoming release, Conquer or Die: The 1776 New York Campaign, by Dan Welch and Mark Maloy. Pre-order here!







			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Book Review: Closing the Ring, Geoge Washington’s War in the North, 1778 – 1781 by Jeffrey A. Denman

						

				On  By Phill GreenwaltIn Book Review, Continental Leadership, Emerging Revolutionary War, Memory, Northern Theater, Personalities, Revolutionary WarLeave a comment			

					


		

			

From June 28, 1778, until October 1781, there is a gap in major engagements by the main Continental Army under the command of General George Washington. A few minor engagements, at Springfield, Connecticut Farms in New Jersey or Stony Point in New York, occurred. Actions in the Southern Theater occupied much of that period and Newport, Rhode Island became a focal point as well, especially with the French arrival. Historians, especially popular and public historians, tend to quickly cover these approximately three years of war in short order, moving onto the finality.





Yet, these years are important, especially to understand the other facets of warfare, rebellion, and revolution. Diving into the primary sources, from the quill pens of Washington, his fellow generals, staff officers, Continental Congress, and the soldiery that comprised the Continental and militia forces, and one can easily surmise how important those non-major-warfare years were. Luckily for the avid students and enthusiasts of the American Revolutionary War, we now have a concise, richly researched, and impactfully created prose published by Casemate and authored by Jeffrey A. Denman to fill this gap. 












A glance at Denman’s biography reveals that he was a public-school teacher and historian who has a resume filled with publications and researched articles. He takes that acquired skill set into this publication, weaving the story, sprinkled with direct quotes and primary source material, for an accurate and compelling overview of the high-stakes of the American Revolution and how success very much so hung in the balance from 1778 – 1781.





At the center is Washington, as the “book tracks…strategic and personal contributions across multiple theaters of war…” (pg. xv). This includes relationships with other military and political leaders, along with the French commander, Rochambeau, in how he “carefully navigated French egos, the paralysis of Congress, and state politics…” (pg. xvii). Yet Denman’s goal is to provide a balanced approach to these years from Monmouth Courthouse in 1778 to Yorktown in 1781, “History proves that Washington was not a great military strategist…committed serious tactical mistakes” but “no man…could match Washington in courage, fearlessness, and devotion to his country.” (pgs. xvi-xvii).





Concluding his introduction, Denman clearly states the purpose of the following pages and why, although no major engagements were fought for over three years under Washington’s command, “this book, focusing on moments and locales rarely chronicled, provides an in-depth and captivating window into how one individual galvanized meager resources to accomplish the extraordinary” (pg. xvii).




 Continue reading “Book Review: Closing the Ring, Geoge Washington’s War in the North, 1778 – 1781 by Jeffrey A. Denman” →
			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Rev War Revelry: Western North Carolina and Eastern Tennessee in the American Revolution

						

				On  By Rob OrrisonIn America 250, Armies, Arms & Armaments, Battlefields & Historic Places, Book Review, Civilian, Common Soldier, Loyalist, Memory, Militia (Loyalist) Leadership, Militia (Patriot) Leadership, Native American, Rev War RevelryLeave a comment			

					


		

			








Join us this Sunday at 7pm as we welcome author and historian Michael C. Hardy. Hardy, best known for his many Civil War and North Carolina history published works, he’ll chat with us about the American Revolution in southern Appalachia and the raw and uncertain conflicts that occurred there between Patriots, Loyalists, and Indians. Hardy’s new book “Western North Carolina and Eastern Tennessee in the American Revolution” is now available and worth a read. There are few that know North Carolina history and can tell a story quite as good as Mike can. This Revelry is pre-recorded and will post to our Facebook and You Tube pages at 7pm. 





Be sure to subscribe to our You Tube Channel for hundreds of hours of free content on the American Revolutionary Era! https://www.youtube.com/@emergingrevolutionarywar8217