Author: erwguest

Hessian Origins of the Headless Horseman

On By erwguestIn 1776, America 250, Battles, Emerging Revolutionary War, Memory, Personalities, Revolutionary War4 Comments

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Evan Portman

“The Headless Horseman Pursuing Ichabod Crane” by John Quidor
(Google Art Project)

It’s a scene familiar and frightening to most American schoolchildren. A headless horseman riding down a dark road, his jack-o’-lantern face alight.

But the Headless Horseman is not strictly an American legend. In fact, it probably didn’t even originate in America. An Irish legend tells of a rider who allegedly carries his severed head under his arm and wields a whip made of the spines of human corpses. A similar revenant is said to haunt the Rhenish valleys of Germany. Thus, it is no surprise that an American twist on the headless horseman tale emerged from the revolutionary era—and the imagination of Washington Irving.

Irving’s life was intertwined with the history of the American Revolution. He was born in Manhattan in 1783 the same week that the city learned of the Treaty of Paris, which ended the Revolutionary War. Of course, Irving’s namesake was the hero of the revolution, George Washington. Irving briefly met the father of the country when he was only 6 years old in 1789, when Washington came to New York City for his inauguration as president. It is therefore no surprise that Irving decided to base his version of the horseman on Revolutionary War lore.[1]

Published in 1820, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow follows Ichabod Crane, a tall, lanky, superstitious man from Connecticut who had traveled to Sleepy Hollow (just outside of Tarrytown, New York) to become a schoolmaster. Much to Crane’s fright, the town is said to be haunted by “the ghost of a Hessian trooper, whose head had been carried away by a cannon-ball, in some nameless battle during the Revolutionary War.”[2] Despite this, the timid but ambitions teacher quickly infatuates himself with the young lady, Katrina Van Tassel, but competes for her attention with the brawny Abraham “Brom Bones” Van Brunt.

On the way home from a gathering at Katrina’s house, Crane encounters a lone rider who appears to be headless. Recalling the ghost stories he had heard, Crane gallops across a bridge that the horseman reportedly cannot pass. But just as he crosses the bridge, the rider strikes him with what seems to be a severed head. The following morning, Crane’s horse arrives home without him, and all that is left by the bridge is a smashed pumpkin. Brom Bones marries Katrina, and the narrator is reluctant to accept whether the stunt was orchestrated by Van Brunt himself or that the Headless Horseman might truly haunt the valley of Sleepy Hollow.

The Headless Horseman of Irving’s imagination might have grown from one of the European myths of old, but the legend may also have origins rooted in the history of the Revolutionary War.

Washington Irving by Charles Robert Leslie

In 1776, British Gen. William Howe had slowly but surely pushed Washington’s Continental Army from Long Island to Upper Manhattan over the course of three months. After a daring escape across the East River, Washington’s army narrowly avoided destruction and lived to fight another day. That day came on October 28, as Howe attempted to encircle the Continental Army. Washington withdrew his forces to White Plains where he fought a valiant, but unsuccessful, defensive battle.

During that battle, British cannons bombarded the Continental lines, and several American guns responded in what became a brief artillery duel. According to Maj. Gen. William Heath, this counter-battery fire decapitated one of the Hessian soldiers. “A shot from the American cannon at this place took off the head of a Hessian artillery-man,” he recorded in his diary on November 1, 1776.[3] Perhaps this fellow became the inspiration for Irving’s headless horseman, or the author based him on one of the other Hessian casualties of the New York Campaign.

By late autumn in 1776, the area south of the Bronx River had become a veritable no-man’s-land. That included Westchester County, where Tarrytown—the setting of the legend—is located. Scores of Loyalist militiamen, British infantry, and Hessian Jägers roamed the countryside and skirmished with Patriots, vigilantes, and raiders. Irving’s specter could have been based on one of the feared Hessian soldiers who patrolled and “haunted” Sleepy Hollow during the war. His legend also might have grown from the alleged headless Hessian corps discovered near Tarrytown after the battle of White Plains. The corpse was later buried in the Old Dutch Burying Ground, where other inspirations for characters in Irving’s story can be found.[4]

Regardless of its origins, the headless horseman and The Legend of Sleepy Hollow looms large in our collective memory, even two centuries later. Perhaps the “Galloping Hessian,” as Irving called him, still patrols the quiet roads of Sleepy Hollow, 250 years after his untimely demise. I, for one, don’t want to find out!

[1] Donna Davies, “Halloween History: The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” New York Historical Quarterly, October 24, 2019, accessed September 2026, https://www.nyhistory.org/blogs/halloween-history-the-legend-of-sleepy-hollow-2.

[2] Washington Irving, “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” in The Sketch Book of Geoffrey Crayon, Gent., (New York: C. S. Van Winkle, 1820), 425.

[3] William Heath, Memoirs of Major General William Heath, (New York: William Abbatt, 1901), 73.

[4] Jonathan Kruk, Legends, and Lore of Sleepy Hollow & the Hudson Valley, (Charleston, SC: History Press, 2011), 117–118. 

Maryland Loyalists in the American Revolution: Politics, War, and Exile

On By erwguestIn 1775, 1776, 1777, British Leadership, Emerging Revolutionary War, Loyalist, Memory, Militia (Loyalist) Leadership, Personalities, Revolutionary War2 Comments

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Drew Palmer of Revolutionary Maryland

Part I

The historical memory of the Revolutionary War in Maryland generally focuses on the state’s Patriots. Men such as Otho Holland Williams and John Eager Howard are remembered fondly for their committed, heroic military service to the American cause. Politically, men such as Charles Carroll and William Paca—both signers of the Declaration of Independence and Maryland Patriots—are remembered for their commitment to the cause. Studying and remembering these men is vital to understanding Maryland’s role in the conflict. However, the Revolutionary War was a civil war. A civil war that made men from the same states sworn enemies. Though Maryland is rightly known as a state that contributed immensely to the Patriot cause, both ideologically and materially, it had a sizable and vocal minority of Loyalists who took it upon themselves to fight against the Patriot cause. Just like Maryland Patriots, Maryland’s Loyalists supported their cause both politically and militarily.

Maryland Loyalist courtesy of Don Troiani Art


Geography and Religion

The strength of Loyalist sentiment depended on where you were in Maryland. Baltimore, Annapolis, and the surrounding area mostly favored the Patriots. After the Patriot Committees of Correspondence in Baltimore and Annapolis developed their own networks of communication and governance, they strictly enforced conduct among people living within their areas of control. Anyone deemed an enemy “to the cause of liberty” faced strict legal and extralegal proceedings, along with harsh punishments. Though the Patriot cause already preached ideals of liberty, free speech, and self-governance, Patriot governments ironically cracked down hardest on political dissent early in the conflict. The accused dissenters were expected to beg for forgiveness before a Patriot tribunal.

Many such instances occurred in Baltimore in 1775, when James Dalgleish, a merchant, was accused of saying, “that as soon as the English troops shall land here, he will join them against the Americans, it being a folly for him to longer deny his principles.” The Baltimore Committee of Correspondence deemed Dalgleish dangerous to the cause and an “incurable enmity to this country.” Dalgleish was summoned before a tribunal where he had to beg for forgiveness and blamed his Loyalist speech on his drinking. The Continental Congress declared Dalgleish an “enemy to the liberty of Americans.” Out of fear of violent retribution, Dalgleish fled Baltimore and was never seen again.1

James Christie, another merchant from Baltimore, faced ridicule and ousting from the Baltimore Committee of Observation for saying in a letter that, “we are in such terrible confusion here with our politics, there is no depending on anything, and that makes me wish myself out of this province. We have some fanatical spirits among us, who do everything in their power to run things to the utmost extremity, and they are gone so far, that we moderate people are under a necessity of uniting for our own defense, after being threatened with expulsion and loss of life.”2 Christie was arrested, deemed an enemy to liberty and the people of America, and, “banished from the province forever.”3 Early in the conflict, it was not realistic to be an outspoken Loyalist in most of the Baltimore and Annapolis region due to organized systems of punishment for speaking against the Patriot cause. Outspoken Loyalism was minimal in the greater Baltimore and Annapolis regions. Maryland’s Eastern Shore, on the other side of the Chesapeake Bay, was a different story.

Continue reading “Maryland Loyalists in the American Revolution: Politics, War, and Exile” →

The “Battle” of Fort Thicketty

On By erwguestIn America 250, Battlefields & Historic Places, Battles, Emerging Revolutionary War, Memory, Militia (Patriot) Leadership, Revolutionary War, Southern Theater2 Comments

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Tom Elmore.

Throughout history many battles have been decided by little things, sometimes even before the battle. This is true of the Battle of Kings Mountain in South Carolina whose outcome was influenced by a little-known battle about thirty miles away on July 26, 1780, at Fort Thicketty in modern-day Cherokee County, S.C.

The fort was built circa 1769 when local farmer David Anderson converted his barn into a blockhouse outpost. Originally called Fort Anderson, it became known as Fort Thicketty (or Thicketty Fort) after a near-by creek that had unusually thick vegetation along its banks. Though the fort was intended to defend the area population from hostile Native Americans, it mainly saw action against outlaw gangs.[i]

In early June 1780, the fort was occupied by Captain Patrick Moore and his Loyalist followers. Moore was born in Virginia in 1750. Since 1768 he had lived about a mile southwest of the fort along Thicketty Creek. He was described as a fierce, intimidating man who stood six foot seven.[ii]

Moore’s men used the fort as a base of operations for raiding Patriot’s homes and farms. One historian described his men as “politically neither British nor American. They were simply robbers…preying upon defenseless women and children.” Another historian noted that “[Fort Thicketty] became a great place of resort and protection for Tory parties. They would sally forth and plunder Whig families in every direction – so that women and children were often left without clothing, shoes, bread, meat, or salt.” [iii]  

Continue reading “The “Battle” of Fort Thicketty” →

“Mostly Members of the Old Flatbush Families”: The Kings County Historical Society and the Battle of Long Island in Memory – Part Two

On By erwguestIn 1776, UncategorizedLeave a comment

ERW welcomes back historian Keith J. Muchowski as he concludes his series.

A new Brooklyn, a new century
This all happened at a moment of great economic, political, and demographic transformation in Brooklyn. For many residents of Dutch colonial heritage, life had changed surprisingly little since the seventeenth century. Well into the twentieth century, families like the Lotts, Bergens, Kouwenhovens, and Remsens and others lived comfortably in houses built by their ancestors. Some even continued farming the same fields that their forbears had tilled centuries earlier.1 Besides enjoying a domestic life that would have been recognizable to their ancestors, many worshipped in the same Dutch Reformed Churches those ancestors had built. When the time came, they often buried their loved ones in plots beside family members who had been resting there for centuries.

Continue reading ““Mostly Members of the Old Flatbush Families”: The Kings County Historical Society and the Battle of Long Island in Memory – Part Two” →

“Mostly Members of the Old Flatbush Families”: The Kings County Historical Society and the Battle of Long Island in Memory

On By erwguestIn 1776, UncategorizedLeave a comment

ERW welcomes back historian Keith J. Muchowski for a two part series in honor of the 250th anniversary of the New York Campaign and the Battle of Long Island.

Continue reading ““Mostly Members of the Old Flatbush Families”: The Kings County Historical Society and the Battle of Long Island in Memory” →

My 4th of July in Quincy, Massachusetts: Where else would I be?

On By erwguestIn Adams, John and Abigail, America 250, Battlefields & Historic Places, Emerging Revolutionary War, Revolutionary War8 Comments

ERW is pleased to welcome back guest author Marianne Holdzkom.

July 4, 2026, was a big moment for the United States. This day marked the 250th anniversary of the adoption of the Declaration of Independence, what many call the birthday of the United States. As people were making plans, the question was always, “Where do you want to spend this important anniversary?” There were certainly many fantastic choices: New York City, Boston, Philadelphia, and Colonial Williamsburg, just to name a few.  Yet I have known for a number of years where I would be. It was a no-brainer. I would spend that day in Quincy, Massachusetts. There is no place else for me. Not only was this 4th the 250th birthday of the Declaration of Independence, but it also marked the 200th anniversary of the deaths of John Adams and Thomas Jefferson—fifty years to the day that the Declaration was adopted by the Continental Congress. It was that anniversary that drew me to Quincy. As a John Adams scholar, I was compelled to be in the town where he lived and where he died. I needed to pay my respects. While others were deciding what fireworks display to see, I was on a mission: Quincy or bust!

Even when Adams was serving abroad, his hometown was never far from his thoughts. “I know not the Reason but there is some Strange Attraction between the North Parish in Braintree [now Quincy] and my Heart,” he wrote to Abigail. “It is a remarkable Spot. It has vomited Forth more Fire than Mount Etna. It has produced three mortals, Hancock and two Adams’s, who have, with the best Intentions in the World, set the World in a blaze.”[1] He was writing from Paris at the time. Now, as the locals will tell you, Quincy is full of history that goes well beyond the Adamses. From the early years of the Massachusetts Bay colony, this region has been one of the historically richest areas of the country. Even in the early colonial period, the South Shore was the center of controversy with the antics of Thomas Morton and some of the Puritan disputes of the 17th century taking place here. The city also honors the history of the Quincy family for which the town was named. In addition, Quincy is the birthplace of both Dunkin’ Donuts and Howard Johnson. There is also a Quincy Quarry and Granite Workers Museum in the city.[2] There is no doubt that the city’s history is fascinating. Yet the attraction for many is always the remarkable Adams family.  In this Semiquincentennial year, when Americans are remembering their founding moment, many of us came to Quincy to honor John Adams.

My husband, Dr. Albert J. Churella, ever the good sport about my John Adams fandom, had secured hotel reservations for us in my home from home in Quincy.  The hotel is conveniently located across the street from the Quincy North T Station and makes it easy to get around Quincy on the Red Line.  On the evening of July 3, after settling into our hotel, we rode the two T stops to Quincy Center.  From here, it is a short walk to the Hancock-Adams Common, United First Parish Church, the Adams National Historical Park Visitors Center, and the Quincy Historical Society. As we strolled to dinner, I took the time to pose with the statues of John Adams and Abigail Adams on the Common. We also visited the new John Quincy Adams statue which I had never seen. This statue and the little park surrounding it are nice additions!

The author with Quincy’s new statue of John Quincy Adams

On the morning of July 4, the big day, we arrived early at the Adams National Historical Park. We knew the temperatures would soar, and the earlier we arrived the better chance we had of getting into the historic homes. Here, we met Mr. Scott McKinley, a fellow Adams family fan, and a talented voice actor as well as scholar. It was a delight to meet him and share part of the day with him. 

The author (right) with Scott McKinley at Peacefield

As the Visitors Center opened, we took our place in line with the other people who had decided to spend part of their day with the Adamses. We were fortunate to get a condensed tour of Peacefield in the morning as the temperatures in the house were becoming unbearable. Unfortunately, I could not see the one room that really mattered to me on that day.  Reportedly, John Adams died in his upstairs study, and we were not allowed to go there due to the heat. The best thing I could do was take a picture of the staircase.  However, according to our guide, one of the staff members at the park is doing some research into the exact place of John Adams’s death. He is not convinced that it happened in the study so stay tuned. I am still grateful that I was able to be in the house, however briefly.

Staircase in Peacefield to the study

One of the special events the park planned for that day was a public reading of the Declaration of Independence. Hilary Miller, Chief of Interpretation at the park, arranged for volunteers from the audience to read portions of the Declaration.  Of course, all three of us in our party participated. It was a great way to remind ourselves of the power of those words.  While I was disappointed that there was no programming surrounding the death of John Adams on that day (that happened the following weekend), I was happy to be a part of this nod to the Declaration of Independence.

I had several nice moments that day at Adams.  I was happy to see, for example, that the park is still selling my book, Remembering John Adams: The Second President in History, Memory and Popular Culture. For an academic author, seeing one’s book on sale is always a win!  Yet the nicest gift of all that day came from Hilary Miller.  She remembered me from past visits and had something to share with me. Miller had requested a Cameo Video from William Daniels for her team as part of their July 4th celebration. She was kind enough to show it to me! The 99-year-old actor, John Adams to so many of us, recorded a wonderful tribute to the park and thanked them for all they are doing to preserve the legacy of John Adams and his family. I was touched that Hilary wanted to share that with me, knowing how much I would appreciate it.

Albert Churella, the author, and Scott McKinley

Finally, that afternoon, we arrived at United First Parish Church, or The Church of the Presidents. The church was completed in 1828 and built in part from granite donated by John Adams.  He was a life-long member of the congregation here and wished to see a “Stone Temple” built to replace the wooden meeting house in his beloved town.  He, along with Abigail, John Quincy Adams, and Louisa Catherine Adams, are buried in the church’s crypt.  This is where I had to be, more than any other place that day.  As we met up with Bill Westland, the delightful church historian who has been a tremendous help to me in my research, I prepared myself for my visit to John Adams’s grave.  I knew that I would not have a moment alone there.  That just doesn’t happen although I have never requested it.  I was just hoping to be able to shut out everything else and pay my respects.  John Adams’s words were swirling around in my brain. “Posterity! You will never know, how much it cost the present Generation, to preserve your Freedom! I hope you will make a good Use of it. If you do not, I shall repent in Heaven, that I ever took half the Pains to preserve it.”[3]  “Yet through all the gloom, I can see the rays of Ravishing Light and Glory.”[4]  Meanwhile, my husband was taking pictures of me so that I could remember the moment.  This was my chance to pay my respects. He understood how important that was to me as did Scott.

As I was standing by John Adams’s tomb, another woman came up and said that she was there to pay her respects and thank him for his service.  I was touched by this and didn’t mind sharing the moment with her. Then I had to try and put into words what I was feeling.  I looked down at the tomb and asked Mr. Adams, “What do we do now?” The woman standing with me thought that was a very good question. I asked this question because I have been struggling to see those rays of ravishing light and glory lately. I love the optimism and hope in the statement, and I remind myself daily that if John Adams could say this given what he was up against then surely I can, too. Still, I needed his help that day. However, we did not get an answer to my question. Silence. 

When you spend as much time studying a historical figure as I have John Adams, you believe that you can know how they would respond to questions or statements in conversation. I know what I wanted to communicate, and I was only getting started. Next, I said to John, “I’ve done the best I can for you and your legacy. Thank you for everything.”  It was then that I could imagine a reply. “Thank you, Madam. And I have done the best I can for you.  For all of you! What do you do now, you ask?  That is up to you. I can do no more but to wish you well!”  Fair enough, President Adams. Message received. And thank you!

Communicating with John on July 4, 2026.

Marianne Holdzkom, Professor of History at Kennesaw State University, is the author of Remembering John Adams: The Second President in History, Memory and Popular Culture. She is also an Adams Memorial Foundation Scholar.

[1] John Adams to Abigail Adams, 15 August 1782, Adams Family Papers, An Electronic Archive, Massachusetts Historical Society, https://www.masshist.org/digitaladams/archive/doc?id=L17820815ja.

[2] For the early history of this region of Massachusetts, see Nina Sankovitch, American Rebels: How the Hancock, Adams and Quincy Families Fanned the Flames of Revolution (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2020); For exhibits and resources concerning all aspects of Quincy history, visit the Quincy Historical Society and Museum, https://quincyhistory.org/; For more info on Quincy granite, see the Quincy Quarry and Granite Workers Museum, http://www.quincyquarrymuseum.org/

[3] John Adams to Abigail Adams, 26 April 1777, Adams Family Papers: An Electronic Archive, Massachuetts Historical Society, https://www.masshist.org/digitaladams/archive/doc?id=L17770426ja.

[4] John Adams to Abigail Adams, 3 July 1776, Adams Family Papers: An Electronic Archive, Massachusetts Historical Society, https://www.masshist.org/digitaladams/archive/doc?id=L17760703jasecond.

From Muster Roll to Lost Note: The Paper Trail of Edmund Fowler’s Revolutionary War Compensation

On By erwguestIn America 250, Common Soldier, Emerging Revolutionary War, Memory, Revolutionary WarLeave a comment

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Marc Lee.

At first glance, it is an unremarkable accounting ledger filled with columns of figures and financial calculations. Yet hidden among its entries is the story of a Revolutionary War soldier whose compensation claim continued to circulate through Connecticut’s bureaucracy years after the fighting had ended. The surviving manuscript, together with wartime muster rolls and treasury records, allows us to follow Edmund Fowler’s claim from military service to a replacement for a lost note, revealing how the Revolution’s paperwork could outlive the war itself.[i]

The document at the center of this story is an Invoice of Officers’ and Soldiers’ Notes, Payable June 1783, a manuscript created as Connecticut settled the financial obligations left by the Revolutionary War. Rather than recording the service of a single soldier, the ledger summarizes military notes issued to officers and enlisted men, listing an aggregate amount exceeding £10,700 and bearing a notation that the account was “charged July 9, 1784.” At first glance, it appears to be little more than a routine accounting record.[ii]

Figure 1. Invoice of Officers’ and Soldiers’ Notes, Payable June 1783, showing the original heading and later accounting calculations.

A closer examination tells a different story. The manuscript remained in active use long after it was first prepared. While the principal heading and endorsements were written in one hand, later calculations were added in a different ink and by a different hand, indicating that officials returned to the account years after the notes first became payable.[iii]

Those physical clues reveal an important reality about the Revolution’s aftermath. Paying veterans was not accomplished through a single transaction. Military service had to be verified, financial obligations reconciled, and documentary evidence maintained as claims moved through the state’s accounting system. What appears to be an ordinary ledger therefore preserves part of the administrative machinery that transformed wartime service into recognized financial compensation.

Among the many entries associated with Connecticut’s officers’ and soldiers’ notes is one that allows this broader process to be examined on a human scale. Through a series of surviving military and treasury records, the documentary trail of Revolutionary War veteran Edmund Fowler can be followed from his wartime muster rolls to the postwar administration of his compensation claim, offering a rare glimpse into how one soldier’s service continued to generate paperwork long after the fighting had ended.[iv]

The ledger identifies many officers and enlisted soldiers, but one name stands out because his surviving records extend well beyond this single document. Edmund Fowler appears in a series of Connecticut military records that preserve different stages of his wartime service, allowing his postwar compensation to be traced across several distinct record groups.[v]

Continue reading “From Muster Roll to Lost Note: The Paper Trail of Edmund Fowler’s Revolutionary War Compensation” →

“In the Ranks of the Revolution: James Johnston’s War” Part II

On By erwguestIn America 250, Battlefields & Historic Places, Battles, Common Soldier, Emerging Revolutionary War, Memory, Personalities, Revolutionary War, Southern TheaterLeave a comment

Part I

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historians Lori Amos Doss & Jarred Marlowe

Part 2: A Veteran in the Southern Campaign and the Road to Yorktown

In early 1781, after years of nearly continuous service, James Johnston finally set out for home on furlough. It must have been a long-awaited journey. Yet before he could reach his destination, events once again pulled him back into the war.

While passing through Prince Edward County, Virginia, Johnston learned of the difficult situation facing General Nathanael Greene in the South. British forces under Lord Cornwallis were pressing hard, and Greene’s army was in poor condition. Supplies were scarce, clothing was inadequate, and many of the soldiers were inexperienced militia. Previous defeats at Charleston and Camden had weakened the Continental presence in the region, leaving Greene with a force that struggled to match the discipline of British regulars.

Johnston understood the danger. Rather than continue home, he took action. Drawing on his experience in the northern campaigns, he recruited twelve veteran soldiers who had completed their terms of service. Together, they traveled south to join Greene. Their arrival was timely. Greene assigned them as adjutants to officers commanding Virginia militia, where their role was to help bring order and discipline to units that often lacked both.

Time was short. Cornwallis was advancing, and a major confrontation was approaching. Johnston worked to train the militia as best he could, instilling in them the habits and expectations of seasoned soldiers. The results became clear at the Battle of Guilford Court House on March 15, 1781.

Greene arranged his army in three lines. The North Carolina militia formed the first, the Virginia militia the second, and Continental regulars the third. When the British advanced, the North Carolina militia broke quickly, some retreating without firing. The Virginia militia, however, held their ground. They fought with determination and inflicted significant casualties on the advancing British.

Although Greene eventually ordered a withdrawal, the battle came at a high cost for Cornwallis. His army suffered heavy losses, weakening his campaign in the South. Later observers noted the steadiness of the Virginia militia, and some accounts credited Johnston and his fellow veterans with helping prepare them for that moment.

After the battle, Johnston returned home at last, reuniting briefly with his family after years away. But the war was not yet finished, and his rest did not last long. Within days, he learned that Lafayette was now operating in Virginia and facing British forces under William Phillips and Benedict Arnold. Once again, Johnston chose to return to service.

Continue reading ““In the Ranks of the Revolution: James Johnston’s War” Part II” →

The Burning of “Madam Souchong” and the Women of Providence Who Burned Her

On By erwguestIn America 250, Civilian, Emerging Revolutionary War, Memory, Politics, Revolutionary WarLeave a comment

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Bjorn Bruckshaw

On a chilly but sunlit afternoon in Providence, smoke began to rise over Market Square—not from hearth fires meant to warm the town, but from a blaze built in defiance. As the smell of burning tar and tea drifted through the streets, cheers and shouts of defiance echoed through the square. Nearby, a man moved quickly from shop to shop, brush and lampblack in hand. One by one, he painted over a single word on storefront signs: TEA. This was no act carried out in secret. According to the Providence Gazette, he was “a spirited Son of Liberty,” and he worked in full view of the town as a crowd gathered around the growing fire.¹  

Just beyond him, the protest had already begun.

Earlier that day, a town crier had moved through Providence announcing that a quantity of India tea would be burned in the Market Square that afternoon, calling upon “all true friends of their country, lovers of freedom, and haters of shackles and hand-cuffs” to assemble and cast the tea into the flames.² By the appointed hour, the square was filled. This was no spontaneous outburst. It was organized, deliberate, and intended to be seen.

At the center of the gathering, flames climbed upward as a barrel of tar was placed upon the fire. Into it were thrown not only tea—hundreds of pounds of it—but also printed copies of Lord North’s speech and other “obnoxious English papers.” ³ the destruction was more than economic protest. It was a public repudiation of British authority itself. And then came the moment that set Providence apart.

These were not men disguised as Mohawk Indians, shrouded in secrecy under the cover of night as in Boston. This was something different—an open, public act carried out in daylight. At its center stood the women of Providence, dressed in everyday clothing, without disguise, stepping forward with the same patriotism and candor to cast the tea into the flames before the gathered town.⁴

In that moment, the Providence Gazette captured one of the most remarkable features of the event, noting that the tea was “fed to the fire by the women of the town.”⁵ Women, long central to colonial resistance through boycotts and the management of household consumption, now stood in the public square, actively participating in the destruction itself. This was not quiet resistance confined to the home. It was visible, communal, and unmistakable.

The prominence of women in the Providence protest did not go unnoticed beyond Rhode Island. In Virginia, the event was reported in the Virginia Gazette, where the destruction of tea was described in strikingly gendered and satirical terms. The article referred to the event as the “funeral of Madam Souchong,” personifying the tea as a female figure while simultaneously reinforcing contemporary stereotypes about women.⁶ In doing so, the report transformed the protest into a symbolic spectacle, revealing how acts of resistance in one colony could be interpreted—and reshaped—by observers in another.

Rhode Island had already established itself as one of the most defiant colonies in British North America. Its long-standing resistance to imperial regulation, fueled by its maritime economy and frequent clashes with customs enforcement, made it a persistent source of frustration for British authorities. Loyalist observers took note. Writing during the conflict, Peter Oliver described resistance in New England as the work of “lawless men” driven by mob influence, portraying their actions as rooted in disorder rather than lawful opposition.⁷ British officials expressed similar concerns in the aftermath of the Gaspee Affair, viewing the destruction of the customs schooner as a “daring insult to the authority of the Crown” and evidence that resistance in Rhode Island had reached a dangerous level.⁸ In June 1772, that defiance became unmistakable when local patriots burned the Gaspee, a British vessel sent to enforce imperial law.

The British response only deepened colonial fears. Officials threatened to transport suspected participants to England for trial, raising concerns about the erosion of traditional rights and legal protections.⁹ In Rhode Island, the lesson was clear: British authority was not only intrusive but increasingly dangerous.

Continue reading “The Burning of “Madam Souchong” and the Women of Providence Who Burned Her” →

That Chess Story

On By erwguestIn 1776, Emerging Revolutionary War, Hessian (German), Memory, Revolutionary War, UncategorizedLeave a comment

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Michael Aubrecht

If one was to define the life and legacy of Colonel Johann Gottlieb Rall (Rahl) they may use the term “victim of circumstance.” His is the ironic tale of a military man, whose stubborn nature and bad luck resulted in an untimely death. As the commander of the Hessian Troops garrisoned at Trenton New Jersey, Rall was the unfortunate recipient of General George Washington’s surprise attack that followed his brilliant crossing of the Delaware River on Christmas night in 1776.

There have been many different versions of this story, but a reexamination of the events by modern military historians has yielded a more redeeming conclusion to Rall’s defeat. Whereas it was once believed that the Hessian troops were celebrating the holiday and simply too intoxicated to properly defend the garrison and themselves, experts now believe that Rall and a sober regiment of German soldiers may have underestimated the resolve of their adversaries.

One aspect of this story that hasn’t changed took place prior to the attack…

A young boy had been given a spy report from a local Loyalist with directions to deliver it to a Hessian colonel who was in occupation of the City of Trenton. The note, written in English, was intended to inform the commander that the Continental Army was crossing the river and planning to attack. It is said that the colonel did not want to be interrupted during his Chess game (some say cards), so he put the unread note in his pocket. The story concludes with the note being found, still in his pocket, unopened, after he died in battle.

As both a Chess and Rev-War aficionado, I decided to do a little research into this specific part of the story to see what information was available. What I found was completely different than I had originally anticipated.

Continue reading “That Chess Story” →