If you are looking for something to do this Friday, May 8, 2026, consider coming to the National Museum of the United States Army for their 2026 Revolutionary War Symposium! There year has great lineup of speakers, including a few Emerging Revolutionary War historians.
The focus of the symposium is on the years 1777-1779. Billy Griffith will speaking about the Battle of Monmouth and Mark Maloy will be speaking about the Southern Campaign during these years. Other speakers include Michael Harris, Kevin Weddle, Gary Ecelbarger, Steven Elliott, and Iris de Rode. The symposium is free. For more information and to register to attend visit their website.
If you have never been to the museum, it is a fantastic experience, and you will be able to see the new 250th exhibitCall to Arms: The Soldier and the Revolutionary War, an exhibit Emerging Revolutionary War historian Mark Maloy helped write. They also have a new augmented reality exhibit focused on the Revolutionary War.
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Bjorn Bruckshaw
By the spring of 1776, the people of Rhode Island no longer needed to speculate about their relationship with Great Britain—they were already living in open resistance to it. War had begun the previous year, British naval power remained a constant threat along the coast, and the colony’s long history of defiance toward imperial authority had already brought confrontation to its shores. The destruction of His Majesty’s schooner Gaspee in 1772 had marked a decisive escalation, transforming protest into direct action against the Crown.¹ Now, as members of the Rhode Island General Assembly made their way to Providence in early May 1776, they did so with the reality of war firmly in mind. The question before them was no longer whether they opposed British authority, but whether that authority could continue to exist at all within their government.
Rhode Island Independence Document
Inside the Assembly chamber on May 4, 1776, that question was answered with clarity and finality. Without issuing a sweeping declaration or engaging in extended philosophical argument, the legislature passed an act that removed King George III from every function of governance within the colony. The law ordered that “in all commissions, writs, and other proceedings in the courts of law,” the name and authority of the king be omitted.² In their place stood the authority of the colony itself. The act further directed that royal authority was to be “totally suppressed.”³ Courts would continue to function, but under a new source of legitimacy. Officials would take new oaths. The government would proceed without reference to the Crown. Rhode Island did not simply declare independence—it enacted it.
This action did not emerge suddenly. For years, Rhode Island had been among the most resistant of the colonies to British imperial control, particularly in matters of trade and enforcement. British officials repeatedly complained of the colony’s defiance, noting the difficulty of imposing authority in a place where regulations were often ignored.⁴ That resistance became unmistakable with the Gaspee affair, and the Crown’s response—threatening to transport suspects to England for trial—provoked widespread alarm. Colonial critics warned that such measures would undermine “that great bulwark of English liberty,” the right to trial by a local jury.⁵ By the time hostilities began in 1775, many Rhode Islanders had already concluded that reconciliation with Britain was increasingly unlikely.
That understanding was reflected not only in legislative action, but in the colonial press. The Providence Gazette soon reported the Assembly’s proceedings, noting that the legislature had taken measures removing the authority of the Crown from government functions, a step consistent with the colony’s wartime posture and political condition.⁶ While not framed in celebratory or rhetorical language, the report treated the change as a matter of governance already in motion. Similarly, the Newport Mercury, writing amid growing military uncertainty, reflected a broader shift in tone, reporting colonial affairs in a way that assumed the imperial relationship was breaking down beyond repair.⁷
These accounts are significant not because they proclaim Rhode Island’s primacy, but because they demonstrate how independence was understood in real time—not as a single dramatic declaration, but as a series of actions already unfolding.
Join us on our Facebook page at 7 pm on Sunday, May 3, for a pre-recorded interview with Dr. Gordon Blaine Steffey, the Vice President of Research & Collections at Stratford Hall, and Director of Research and the Jessie Ball duPont Memorial Library. Dr. Steffey will discuss his research on the Lee family and their role in the cause of independence during the American Revolutionary Era.
The Revelry will be posted to Facebook and our You Tube Channel at 7pm.
Is the second sentence of the Declaration of Independence the greatest sentence ever written?
That’s the contention of historian Walter Isaacson in his slim new book, The Greatest Sentence Ever Written. As a refresher:
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.
“[E]ach of its words and concepts bears scrutiny and appreciation,” Isaacson says, and then goes about in short chapter-length essays to do just that.[1]
Or almost so. His execution doesn’t go off with quite that kind of exactness. For instance, “hold” doesn’t get any particular attention. The verbs is always the most important word in a sentence because it’s the engine that drives the action. One could spend a little time on “hold” and its specific meaning and the perils inherent in it (anything held can be dropped!). Isaacson may or may not have missed opportunities by skipping some of the words that he apparently deemed unimportant.
But where he does parse out parts of the sentence, he shines. He explores the common ground of “We,” what made “truths” “self-evident,” and the restrictiveness behind the seemingly inclusive “all men.” What is “equality” in the context of the rest of the sentence? What did the Founders mean by any of these things?
Emerging Revolutionary War is pleased to partner with the Adams Memorial Foundation to share some reading about America’s “Founding Family.” The Foundation holds a monthly book club, hosted by Board President Jackie Cushman. In special arrangement with the Adams Memorial Foundation, ERW is sharing links to the first few conversations from that book club.
The next book highlighted in our series is John Adams: Party of One by James Grant (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2005).
For weeks, colleagues in the Continental Congress had been asking John Adams for advice. If the colonies were to break away from Great Britain and established governments of their own, what should those governments look like?
The first request came from North Carolinians William Hooper and John Penn in late March. The duo had been recalled from Philadelphia so they could join in conversations about a new government for their home state. Before departing, they each asked Adams for his thoughts. Adams “wrote with his own Hand, a Sketch,” and gave copies to both delegates.[1] The ensuing discussions in North Carolina led to the April 12, 1776 passage of the Halifax Resolves, which authorized the colony’s Congressional delegation to vote in favor of independence—the first colony to formally grant such authorization.
Next came a request from George Wythe of Virginia and then one from John Dickinson Sergeant of New Jersey. Finally, Richard Henry Lee of Virginia asked for a copy.
Adams had already given the topic considerable thought. He had touched on it in early 1775 in a series of newspaper articles that he’d signed “Novanglus,” and during a trip home in late 1775, he had addressed it for the Massachusetts colonial assembly. “The Happiness of the People is the sole End of Government, so the Consent of the People is the only Foundation of it,” he had written.[2] “Happiness,” in Adams’s vocabulary, meant “ease, comfort, security.”[3]
As Adams sketched out his ideas for his colleagues, he took the same approach, and each letter allowed him to develop and refine his ideas even further. By the time he wrote out his thoughts for Wythe, those ideas had become so clear and well articulated that the impressed Lee asked if he could have the letter published. Adams agreed. Using Wythe’s letter as the basis, Lee threw it into shape and “put it under the Types.”[4]
Emerging Revolutionary War is pleased to partner with the Adams Memorial Foundation to share some reading about America’s “Founding Family.” The Foundation holds a monthly book club, hosted by Board President Jackie Cushman. In special arrangement with the Adams Memorial Foundation, ERW is sharing links to the first few conversations from that book club.
The next book highlighted in our series is Remembering John Adams: The Second President in History, Memory and Popular Culture by Marianne Holdzkom (McFarland, 2023).
ST. BONAVENTURE, N.Y., April 22, 2026 — As America looks ahead to the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence this summer, St. Bonaventure University invites the public and campus community to come together to discuss what “independence” means.
Since mid-March, St. Bonaventure’s “America’s 250 Series” has explored various facets of the American Revolution. To conclude the series, university historians will gather for a final panel discussion and open Q&A with the audience.
The program, “The Revolution Today,” will be held at 7 p.m. Monday, April 27, in Walsh Auditorium. The event is free and open to the public, and light refreshments will be served.
Discussion topics will include:
What themes have emerged from our series?
What questions have the Founders raised for us?
What does the American Revolution mean to us today?
What is our own role in remembering America’s 250th birthday?
The university’s “America’s 250 Series” is sponsored by the History Department, the Jandoli School of Communication, and Emerging Revolutionary War.
Emerging Revolutionary War is pleased to partner with the Adams Memorial Foundation to share some reading about America’s “Founding Family.” The Foundation holds a monthly book club, hosted by Board President Jackie Cushman. In special arrangement with the Adams Memorial Foundation, ERW is sharing links to the first few conversations from that book club.
The next book highlighted in our series is Making the Presidency: John Adams and the Precedents That Forged the Republic by Dr. Lindsay M. Chervinsky (Oxford, 2024).
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Ben Powers
Huw Davies’s work The Wandering Army: The Campaigns That Transformed the British Way of War posits that the British Army underwent a period of enlightenment during the late eighteenth century, inspired by its poor showing in the War of the Austrian Succession. Officers turned to continental Europe to study military art in the same spirit that enlightenment scholars studied moral philosophy. This period of military change, innovation, and adaptation encompassed what Davies refers to as “the interconnected relationship of these three areas: military thought, experience, and knowledge exchange, which together drove Britain’s accidental military enlightenment.”
Davies documents that the British Army in the 1700s entered a doldrums of intellectual and tactical stagnation in the early decades of the century, following its successful participation in the War of the Spanish Succession. Victory bred complacency, leading to a poor showing at Fontenoy in 1745. He goes on to demonstrate that defeat galvanized officers to undertake self-directed study of military theory and share lessons learned with other officers, forming a community of practice. Officers later combined these efforts with practical experience gained through active campaigns and peacetime training, resulting in cycles of learning throughout the latter half of the eighteenth century. Davies’s work contributes to the historiography of the British Army by demonstrating that officers actively sought to synthesize the latest military theories, their own combat experiences, and the ideas of their peers into innovative systems to address challenges across multiple theatres of war.
Davies uses a variety of evidence, including historical analysis, accounts of officer practices, and descriptions of training reforms. The bibliography of The Wandering Army contains almost 600 entries, ranging from period treatises, manuals, and official correspondence such as orderly books and military returns, to contemporary newspapers, to historical manuscripts. Davies traces a paper trail of British study of military art from 1745 to 1815, showing that officers studied war, applied what they learned, and discussed war in public forums and personal correspondence. He cites examples of General Henry Clinton walking and studying old battlefields in 1774 to prepare himself for future challenges (Davies, 82–83); Lord Charles Cornwallis’ establishment of a standardized system of drill and equipage for his troops in India, based on lessons he had learned during the War for American Independence (Davies, 204); and the establishment of a camp for the training of light troops at Shorncliffe, England, to teach innovative tactics to light infantry, developed by Sir John Moore (Davies, 287–315).
Emerging Revolutionary War Era 