Author: erwguest

Sacred Honor: The Conundrum of Oaths during the American Revolution

On By erwguestIn Personalities, Revolutionary War, Social History, Uncategorized2 Comments

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Avellina Balestri

My American Revolution historical fiction trilogy, “All Ye That Pass By,” is thematically centered upon the pros and cons of oath-taking. Although the topic has been very much on my mind during the researching and writing process, I think many people who engage with the American Revolution on a popular level forget about the profound moral quandary of making
and breaking solemn declarations before God and Man.


When the signers of the Declaration of Independence pledged their “lives, fortunes, and sacred honor” to the cause of rebellion, there could not help but be an element of contradiction, for they
were committing an act of treason against the King to whom they had previously sworn fealty. Too often we reduce this decision to a test of courage, necessary to take the risks and face the consequences that accompany defying one’s sovereign. We get a certain thrill from the idea of
defiance because it fits a certain popularized narrative framework. But perhaps this is partly because we have forgotten the rubrics of more religious ages in which hierarchies represented divine realities that dignified mankind.


Swearing oaths to kings and queens was a grave matter in both a spiritual and interpersonal sense. Most oath-taking rituals involved placing one’s hand (and often lips) upon the Cross on the Holy Bible, the symbol of salvation, and in the old rendering of such vows, wishing that one’s heart be cut out if proven false to the liege lord or lady, who would henceforth be held higher than family ties or even one’s own life. Calling down the heart-cutting curse was both a literal reference to execution and a symbolic statement of self-destruction, for what was a man’s heart if his word was worthless to the one you had sworn to defend by your life or death?


By contrast, unwavering zeal for one’s royal master may lead to one’s early demise, but that is not merely tolerable, but glorious, indeed, the most glorious hour of one’s life (as Major John Andre declared before minutes before his own life was taken), because it proved the depths of
one’s ability to be a good and faithful servant, and what is a man without a lord to serve? What
liberty can a knight enjoy if he will not swear his sword and be chained? These perennial
questions hearken back to the Anglo-Saxon epic of the Men of Maldon, who preferred death to
abandoning their lord, even as he lay slain by Norsemen upon the field. It is no small irony that
one of Maldon’s other famous sons was General Horatio Gates, whose trajectory runs in quite a
different direction.

Duke of Marlborough


On that note, it is worth turning to the various figures in the long history of the British Isles and her overflowing empire who chose to break their oaths to reigning sovereigns by way of rebellion, from Lord Brooke (who fought in The English Civil War against Charles I), to the
Duke of Marlborough (who took part in The Glorious Revolution against James II), to Lord Murray (who fought in The Second Jacobite Rebellion against George II). To justify themselves under God and before Man, they usually appealed exception clauses based on a higher religious
obligation or a superior royal claim. For Brooke and Marlborough, it was because the kings were leaning too Catholic for their Protestant convictions; for Murray, it was because the Stuarts were the rightful rulers, unlawfully sent into exile.


Even in these cases, however, there is a sense that the participants never fully managed to
escape the shadow over their broken oaths. Yes, they might appeal to those “rare cases” brought
forward by philosophers and theologians from Thomas Aquinas to Samuel Rutherford, but they
had still committed what Dante deemed the most mortal of sins in the depths of his inferno.
Bearing that weight is exhausting for any mortal man, doomed to make constant self-defenses
while knowing the world will never truly trust them again. It is, in effect, to be branded by the
mark of Caine, for one who breaks his oaths has murdered the worth of his own word, a nearer
thing than even his own brother.


Jumping forward in time, the American Revolution is a unique case in that it was not fundamentally grounded in either a doctrinal nor a dynastic dispute. One would have to squint
incredibly hard to make the arguments of either Aquinas or Rutherford translate neatly into a
stamp of approval for the American Revolution. This is not to say the revolutionaries did not
borrow from the rhetoric of past uprisings, especially regarding the curbing of royal prerogative
(albeit colonial complaints were more directed at Parliament than at the King, even though the
King upheld his Parliament). But humanistic philosophies that flourished during the
Enlightenment introduced rubrics for revolution based on the will of the people. This, in turn,
started the domino effect that established the modern consensus of Democracy being inherently
positive, even though General Thomas Gage’s warning about the effects of “democratic
despotism” is perhaps more relevant than we wish to admit.


Coming back to my own literary exploration, I strive to cast a particular light upon the experiences of Catholic recusants in the British Isles and North America from the 16th-18th centuries, who found themselves between a rock and a hard place in terms of oath-taking. This was especially the case for English Catholics of prominent lineage, who were forced to pay taxes
and tithes for refusing to conform to the Anglican Church, leaving their resources drained and their status diminished. By the latter part of the 18th century, following multiple failed Jacobite risings in favor of Catholic claimants, most were eager to dispel accusations of cowardice at best
and treason at worst for the old faith they keep against the odds. Even the pope acknowledged the House of Hanover by 1766. But in order to participate fully in British society, it was mandatory to take the Test Act, an oath acknowledging the King as Governor of the Church in England, a claim inherently repugnant to Catholic consciences.


Some resisted this temptation; others yielded to it. One of the most famous cases of apostasy in the period pertains to General Gage’s father and his father’s cousin, both coming from a staunchly Catholic lineage, who took the Test Act ostensibly to save their racing horses from being confiscated. That was the tip of the iceberg, of course; Catholics were not only forbidden from owning horses, but also bearing arms, voting, holding most offices, attending universities, serving in the military, and much more.


The decision to conform to the religion of the state often haunted those who made it. Oaths were understood religiously by society as whole, but for noble families there was a particular weight involved, since the Test Act was a successor of ancient chivalric vows taken by their ancestors. By taking it, Catholics would have sworn their souls to something which they believed put them in a state of mortal sin. Yet…would not breaking that oath be a mortal sin too?

St. Thomas More

In this quandary, whatever they did would be a slap in the face to saints and martyrs most highly praised in their tradition, such as Thomas More and Edmund Campion, who preferred to die rather than sign the Oath of Supremacy. Nevertheless, they met their fates praying for the King and Queen who killed them, embodying fidelity under fire. Another case honored by the oppressed Catholic community was Lord Derwentwater, who rose up in the first Jacobite Rebellion of 1715, and preferred beheading to either recanting his faith or swearing an oath to the House of Hanover which he deemed to be illegitimate. Interestingly, it was said Derwentwater’s heart remained incorrupt, in counteraction to the curse of having it cut out.


Again, we see the crushing effects of previous failed rebellions, and cannot help but compare
them to the effects of the American Revolution. The rebellion, predicted to be a flash in the pan
by the British establishment, proves more successful than most imagined, shattering old
structures in a manner which some will find terrifying and others liberating. In this new world,
many hope to enjoy a chance to start over with a clean slate. But for those who have taken the
Test Act, going down such a path would require trekking into uncharted territory, calling into
question every aspect of loyalty and identity, on earth as it is in heaven. Embracing the
revolutionary cause would inherently be a process of unbecoming, shedding one’s understanding
of past obligations and hoping the gamble would pay in the end.


For Catholic recusants, the experiences of Charles Carroll of Carrollton served as an example of what might be possible in America. His claim was that King George is a traitor to them rather than them being a traitor to him, and that having been placed under religious suppression, his fellow Catholics had the right to seek alternative options for their own betterment as a community of faith. The outcome of the revolution might have been a risk, but he had proven that it was already disrupting the old order and causing the disabilities placed upon Catholics to crumble. Prejudice might remain, but Carroll has already overcome various civil obstacles against his faith in Maryland, the one-time Catholic colony laid low, and George Washington, commander-in-chief of the Continental Army, who once took the Test Act himself, had demonstrated his willingness to uphold religious toleration in his army.


And yet…the question of an oath’s weight still bore down on those confronted with such a choice, raised with the conviction that even an oath with questionable aspects was considered worthy of adhering to “as far as the law of God allows.” The way in which each man and woman wrestled with their conscience when it came to such heavy matters was as complex and fascinating as the war itself, and my experience of bringing that inner conflict to life as a writer has been one of the most rewarding aspects of the creative process.

Avellina Balestri is a Catholic author and editor based in the historic borderlands of Maryland and Pennsylvania. She represented the state of Maryland at The Sons of the American Revolution National Orations Contest and is the author of the American Revolution historical fiction trilogy “All Ye That Pass By,” the first installment of which, “Gone for a Soldier,” is available on Amazon. Avellina is also the Editor-in-Chief of Fellowship & Fairydust, a magazine inspiring faith & creativity and exploring the arts through a spiritual lens. 

For more information about the author and her various projects, please visit the following websites:

www.fellowdustmag.com www.avellinabalestri.com

Book Review: “Making the Presidency: John Adams and the Precedents That Forged the Republic” by Lindsey Chervinsky

On By erwguestIn Book Review, Continental Leadership, Emerging Revolutionary War, Memory, Personalities, Revolutionary War, Uncategorized2 Comments

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian and reviewer Al Dickenson

No president has an easy job. But imagine holding the position of president immediately after undoubtedly the best president the United States has ever had.

That was John Adams’ conundrum. Additionally, it is the subject of renowned historian Lindsey Chervinsky’s new book, Making the Presidency: John Adams and the Precedents That Forged the Republic. Initially released last year, in the midst of a politically fraught election season, Chervinsky places the modern world into a context we should all understand better: the history of the 1790s.

After a brief introduction regarding the Revolutionary War, the early republic, and George Washington’s presidency, readers are thrown into John Adams’ presidency. Federalists opposing Democratic-Republicans (commonly referred to as simply “Republicans” in Chervinsky’s text, as they referred to themselves), the Americans opposing the French, the North opposing the South, Federalists opposing Federalists: it seemed there could be no peace in the nation so split apart. Yet the nation stood for another 220 years. Why is that?

Chervinsky argues that the reason we are a nation today relies on how John Adams served his presidency, specifically the power sharing he enacted in his cabinet amongst Republicans (like Vice President Thomas Jefferson), Federalists (like Secretary of State Timothy Pickering), and Archfederalists (like Secretary of War James McHenry), the successful navigation of foreign affairs (see the ongoing French Revolution, specifically the XYZ Affair), and the peaceful transfer of power.

The final focus of Chervinsky’s book, Adams’ loss in the 1800 election, perhaps offers the most original outlook on Adams’ presidency. Being the loser of the election, and being the first incumbent president to lose an election, historians have often treated Jefferson a little kindlier than Adams. Where Chervinsky’s work shines, however, is in showing how these great, powerful men, the leaders of their respective parties, differed in how they saw power, and in how they wielded it.

Little scholarship focuses on Jefferson’s machinations to gain the presidency. Rarely researched are his Virginia and Kentucky Resolutions, which called for nullifying federal law, even though these ideas were eventually adapted into various Confederate causes and mentalities in the following decades. Nor are the essentially political and emotional blackmail Jefferson laid on Federalist members of Congress who refused to vote for him over Aaron Burr. Jefferson threatened the members of Congress with, in essence, secession of Republican states if they did not pick a president soon, given that this was the only election in American history where the House of Representatives made the presidential selection. The dirty tricks of politics manifested themselves in this election, including smear campaigns against Adams and unfounded warnings that the Federalist Party would forego the will of the people and simply appoint a new, Federalist president.

Compare this to John Adams, who, while certainly desirous of a second term, largely laid low during the turmoil occurring on the other side of the Capitol. When presented with suggestions to keep himself as president, he refused. When asked to annul the election, Adams refused. When asked to stand for himself and campaign in the final months of the election season, and during the contingent election in the House between Jefferson and Burr, Adams refused and stayed silent. He did not cling to power, nor did he view his opinion better than that of the American people who voted for a Republican and the House members who would choose the next presidency. Though he was a lame duck president in every sense of the word, he held true to his convictions of propriety in politics, though privately he fumed.

In this way, though history often sheds more light on the winner, makes historians wonder what other ways “losers” of an election may have impacted our politics and history. An interesting study question for any intrigued historian, but one that Chervinsky shows is vital to understanding American history and modern politics alike.

Major John Van Dyk, and the Bones of Major John André. Part III

On By erwguestIn British Leadership, Continental Leadership, Emerging Revolutionary War, Memory, Northern Theater, Personalities, Revolutionary WarLeave a comment

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back Jeffrey Collin Wilford
Part I, click here. Part II, click here.

Major Andre’s Reckoning

Along the way from Tarrytown, New York, to West Point, Benjamin Tallmadge conversed almost nonstop with the freshly captured British prisoner John André and learned much about the youthful officer. It was perhaps Major Tallmadge’s background as George Washington’s chief intelligence officer as well as recollections illuminated by the light of André’s charisma, that helped begin to paint a picture of an honorable soldier. After countless hours of conversation during their journey north  he became convinced that André’s “Head was in fault, & not his heart.” Tallmadge commented later that André was “a most delectable Companion. It often drew tears from my Eyes to find him so pleasant & agreeable in Conversation on different Subjects, when I reflected on his future fate, & that too, as I believed, so near at hand—” In the short time the two spent together Tallmadge seemed to have grown extremely fond of the British Major. 

One can sympathize with Tallmadge’s point of view. After all, André was merely another victim of the traitor Arnold. He had intended to meet him on board the Vulture but when Arnold failed to show he was forced to go ashore with Smith.  After the Vulture was scared off by artillery and Arnold convinced him to don civilian clothes, plying him with incriminating materials and sending him through enemy territory, the stage was set.  In his testimony, he said it was General “Clinton’s directions not to go within an Enemy post or to quit my own dress.“ Even so, by his own admission, it was the ruling of the military Proceedings that “he changed his Dress within our Lines and under a feigned Name and in a Disguished [sic].”

Perhaps Tallmadge’s sympathies toward André were accentuated by his hatred for Arnold. Tallmadge’s characterization of André becomes clearer in a simple personal act from his testimony when he stated that “André kept reviewing his shabby Dress, & finally remarked to me that he was positively ashamed to go to the Head Qrs of the American Army in such a plight. I called my Servant, & directed him to bring my Dragoon Cloak, which I presented to André. This he refused to take for some time, but I insisted on it, & he finally put it on & rode in it to Tappan.”

By the time they made Tappan, André was under heavy guard and imprisoned at Mabie’s Tavern. Just a few hundred feet away, Washington convened 14 of his top military officers who, over two days of testimony, found André guilty and sentenced him to death. On October 1st André personally requested from Washington the honor of a firing squad over a “gibbet.” Knowing the favor could not be granted, Washington opted to ignore the request. 

On October 2nd, just before noon, André appeared on the stoop of Mabie’s Tavern. Four officers were present to escort the convicted spy to his final judgment.  One of the four officers was Captain Lieutenant John Van Dyk, with just six months separating this moment from his own capture by the British off the coast of New Jersey. “There were about six steps which led into the stoop of the house, on the light of these, one American officer with myself were standing when Major André came out of the front door of the house in regimentals, hooking his arm with the two American officers (his attendants) one on his right and left. He ran down the steps of the stoop as quickly and lively as though no execution was to take place, and immediately fell into the centre of the guard, a place assigned him.”

 André exits Mabie’s Tavern on the day of execution.
   (copyright: New York Public Library)

Escorting André with his four guards was also Major Benjamin Tallmadge. “I walked with him to the place of execution, and parted with him under the gallows, entirely overwhelmed with Grief, that so gallant an officer, & so accomplished a Gentleman should come to such an ignominious End.” Echoing that sentiment in writing nine days after his execution was Alexander Hamilton, saying “Never perhaps did any man suffer death with more justice, or deserve it less.”

Mabie’s Tavern today (Wilford)

When André had turned the corner to see the gallows before him, Van Dyk recorded his statement. “Gentlemen, I am disappointed, I expected my request…would have been granted.” According to Van Dyk, preparations were made and André’s final words when asked if he had any were “I have nothing more to say, gentlemen, but this, you all bear me witness, that I meet my fate as a brave man.” With that came the untimely end of Major John André who was then cut down and not allowed to fall to the ground and “every attention and respect was paid to Major André that it is possible to pay a man in his situation.” He was placed in a simple coffin and buried in a shallow grave close to the site. Over the following 40 years, a peach tree grew above the grave, ostensibly from a peach given to André by a woman as he marched to his execution. 

When the Duke of York requested the return of his remains in 1821 it was not without fear of a backlash, specifically from the residents of Tappan. Many felt it was an affront to the memory of George Washington. British consul James Buchanan found that the protestations dissipated quickly after he agreed to buy those who were against the idea a drink at the local inn. The bones were then dug up with the root of the peach growing through the skull’s eye socket. They were placed in a mahogany ossuary and shipped by way of a British mail ship called a packet to New York City where they awaited their return to London.  

Captain, now Colonel, John Van Dyk, 67 years old and working for the New York Customs House near the docks of the North (Hudson) River heard about the impending exhumation and, using his connections with influential New Yorker John Pintard, requested a dialog with Buchanan. Through the British consul, he obtained a penned introduction to the captain of the packet where André’s bones lay. Van Dyk made his way to the North River and found the captain just leaving to go back aboard the packet. Upon handing him the introduction from Buchanan, the captain requested that he return at 10 o’clock the following morning and a barge would be waiting to take him to the ship.

Coincidentally, that same day Dr. Valentine Mott, considered by many to be the greatest surgeon of his time, was treating one of Van Dyk’s children and heard of Van Dyk’s plan. Naturally, he was invited along for the next morning’s visit. That day, the two reached the docks just before 10 o’clock and met the barge which took them to the ship.  “We went together on board the Packet. The bones were in a superb urn, and we were permitted to handle them. I mentioned the circumstances, as I have related them above, to the Captain [about André’s execution] — bid him goodbye, and we came on shore.” Van Dyk’s motivations for wanting to visit the remains of André are lost to history and probably best understood by those who experienced the emotions of that fateful day in  American history.  

André chest: © 2025 Dean and Chapter of Westminster

Amidst a boat of mail destined for England, John André left New York for the last time, traveling back to London where his remains were repatriated. His ossuary was emptied of its contents and his remains were buried in Westminster Abbey with the inscription “universally beloved and esteemed by the Army in which he served, and lamented even by his foes, now lay alongside medieval kings, Renaissance statesmen, and Georgian poets.” Arnold and his wife Peggy lived the rest of their lives post-Revolution in London, reviled by most, and are buried just 3 miles away at St. Mary’s Church in Battersea, in a vault that sits behind a wall in a basement kindergarten classroom.  

Bibliography

“New York City Inhabitants, Occupations & Address 1775.” New York Ancestors History & Genealogy Project. Accessed October 5, 2024. https://nyahgp.genealogyvillage.com/new_york_city_inhabitants_occupations_address_1775.html

“The London Gazette, Issue 12419, Page 3.” The Gazette. Accessed October 4, 2024. https://www.thegazette.co.uk/London/issue/12419/page/3

Mount Vernon Ladies’ Association. “John André.” George Washington’s Mount Vernon. Accessed October 4, 2024. https://www.mountvernon.org/library/digitalhistory/digital-encyclopedia/article/john-André/.

“Benedict Arnold.” American Battlefield Trust. Accessed October 4, 2024. https://www.battlefields.org/learn/biographies/benedict-arnold

“From Hero to Traitor: Benedict Arnold’s Day of Infamy.” National Constitution Center, September 21, 2022. 

https://constitutioncenter.org/blog/from-hero-to-traitor-benedict-arnolds-day-of-infamy.

“Proceedings of a Board of General Officers, 29 September 1780.” Founders Online, National Archives. https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/03-28-02-0182-0009 

[Original source: The Papers of George Washington, Revolutionary War Series, vol. 28, 28 August–27 October 1780, edited by William M. Ferraro and Jeffrey L. Zvengrowski, 291–296. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2020.]

“To George Washington from Major John André, 24 September 1780.” Founders Online, National Archives. https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/03-28-02-0182-0003 

[Original source: The Papers of George Washington, Revolutionary War Series, vol. 28, 28 August–27 October 1780, edited by William M. Ferraro and Jeffrey L. Zvengrowski, 277–283. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2020.]

“From George Washington to Samuel Huntington, 17 October 1779.” Founders Online, National Archives. https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/03-22-02-0616 

[Original source: The Papers of George Washington, Revolutionary War Series, vol. 22, 1 August–21 October 1779, edited by Benjamin L. Huggins, 745–746. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2013.]

“To George Washington from Major John André, 1 October 1780.” Founders Online, National Archives. https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/03-28-02-0182-0014 

[Original source: The Papers of George Washington, Revolutionary War Series, vol. 28, 28 August–27 October 1780, edited by William M. Ferraro and Jeffrey L. Zvengrowski, 303–311. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2020.]

Van Dyk, John. “Major André, Letter of Col. Van Dyk to John Pintard, August 27, 1821.” Historical Magazine 7, no. 8 (August 1863): 250-252.

Van Dyk, John. “Major André.” Martinsburg Gazette, August 20, 1835.

Miller, Tom. “The 1849 Dr. Valentine Mott Mansion – No. 1 Gramercy Park West.” Daytonian in Manhattan (blog), January 9, 2012. https://daytoninmanhattan.blogspot.com/2012/01/1849-dr-valentine-mott-mansion-no-1.html. 

Nolan, John. “The Death and Resurrection of Major John André.” Journal of the American Revolution, August 13, 2018. https://allthingsliberty.com/2018/08/the-death-and-resurrection-of-major-john-André/

“John André.” Westminster Abbey. The Dean and Chapter of Westminster. Accessed October 4, 2024. 

https://www.westminster-abbey.org/abbey-commemorations/commemorations/john-André/

Diamant, Lincoln, and Carl Oechsnew. “André’s Map.” Hudson River Valley National Heritage Area, Hudson River Valley Institute, 2005. https://www.hudsonrivervalley.org/documents/401021/1055071/Andrésmap.pdf/34027eeb-a4e9-4077-ac3b-57c46cc6e23a.

Stokes, I. N. Phelps. The Iconography of Manhattan Island 1498-1909. Vol. 1. New York, 1915-1928.

“Benedict Arnold.” SmugMug. Accessed October 4, 2024. 

https://benedictarnold.smugmug.com/.

Clements Library. “André-Clinton Letter.” Spy Letters of the American Revolution. University of Michigan. Accessed January 30, 2025. https://clements.umich.edu/exhibit/spy-letters-of-the-american-revolution/gallery-of-letters/andre-clinton-letter/.

The Zenger Trial and Seeds of The American Revolution

On By erwguestIn Civilian, Emerging Revolutionary War, Memory, Personalities, Revolutionary War1 Comment

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Eric Wiser

On August 4, 1735 printer John Peter Zenger was acquitted of seditious libel in a dramatic trial before a crowded courtroom in New York’s City Hall.  Zenger languished nine months in jail before his acquittal for “printing and publishing a false, scandalous and seditious libel, in which His Excellency the Governor of this Province, who is the King’s immediate representative…” Zenger’s odds were long given New York Supreme Court’s disbarment of his original attorneys in the pre-trial stage. Aggrieved Royal Gov. William Cosby had a legitimate claim under English Common Law that he was seditiously libeled.[1]  

Zenger’s fame as an early martyr of freedom of the press is well known.  In terms of America’s founding, it’s difficult to imagine independence without the dissemination of ideas through pamphlets and newspapers. Benjamin Franklin, a printer himself whose own brother James was imprisoned by authorities in Massachusetts a decade before Zenger, commented on freedom of the press: “This sacred Privilege is so essential to free Governments, that the Security of Property, and the Freedom of Speech always go together; and in those wretched Countries where a Man cannot call his Tongue his own, he can scarce call any Thing else his own.”[2] 

Despite being thirty-years before the Stamp Act of 1765, the Zenger trial and political conditions surrounding it have seedlings sprouting growth in the Revolution. The substance of these can be traced to the colonial grievances inspired by acts of Parliament which in turn became articulated in the Declaration of Independence. Factionalism between supporters of Crown representatives and those opposed was present in the Zenger episode in nascent form.  The rhetoric expressed by Zenger’s attorneys is indistinguishable from the much of the lofty language in the Revolution less “independence.”  

Continue reading “The Zenger Trial and Seeds of The American Revolution” →

Major John Van Dyk and the Bones of Major John André. Part II

On By erwguestIn British Leadership, Continental Leadership, Emerging Revolutionary War, Memory, Northern Theater, Personalities, Revolutionary War1 Comment

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back Jeffrey Collin Wilford
For Part I, click here.

General Benedict Arnold’s Betrayal

On the morning of September 21, 1780, while Captain John Van Dyk, only recently freed from the prison ship Jersey, was guarding West Point as part of Colonel John Lamb’s artillery unit, the HMS Vulture arrived at Haverstraw Bay and anchored just off Teller’s Point. Two men pressing apples at a cider mill on the shore became alarmed at the presence of a British warship on the river north of the “neutral ground,” and a barge disembarking from it filled with Redcoats. Not knowing their intent, both decided to take matters into their own hands and opened fire on the soldiers. John “Rifle Jack” Peterson, a veteran of the Battle of Saratoga, received his nickname due to his superior marksmanship. The other, Moses Sherwood was just 19 years old and a friend of Jack Peterson. Both were enlisted in the Westchester County militia. Their relationship was very close as Rifle Jack had held Sherwood’s father in his arms as he died at Saratoga three years earlier. 

Croton (Teller’s) Point today – (Wilford)

Several of their shots hit their mark, wounding soldiers and prompting the barge to return to the Vulture which opened fire with a barrage of grapeshot on the two men as they crouched behind rocks. This signaled to the pair that the ship was within cannon range and they quickly made their way in the darkness to Fort Lafayette ten miles to the north to secure a cannon from the officer in charge, Colonel James Livingston.

Cannon that fired on the Vulture
Peekskill Museum (Wilford)

At Peterson and Sherwood worked with several other soldiers to lug the 4-pounder back to the point while, unbeknownst to them, André slipped away from the Vulture. He made his way from the Vulture to shore, at around midnight, with Loyalist Joshua Hett Smith who had been instructed to gather him from the ship.  His destination was a clandestine meeting on the river bank with American General Benedict Arnold, the famous war hero of Saratoga who had been plotting for months to turn against the cause of American independence. What was clear, by André’s account, was that this meeting was to be a fairly quick round-trip between the Vulture and shore under cover of darkness. 

Instead, an unraveling of the circumstances dictated that he shed all previous warnings from British General Sir Henry Clinton to stay dressed in his regimental uniform, avoid enemy checkpoints, and not possess any incriminating papers. André admitted this to Clinton in a letter written after his capture and dated September 29, 1780 stating, “The Events of coming within an Enemys posts and of Changing my dress which led  me to my present Situation were contrary to my own Intentions as they were to your Orders.” This would force him to become, in his own words, “involuntarily an impostor.”      

As negotiations on the riverbank dragged on, likely due to Arnold’s negotiations around rank and compensation, daybreak drew near. Fearing discovery, and clearly against André’s original plan, they moved their talks to the home of Smith, which overlooked the river and the Vulture at anchor. During the meeting at Smith’s house, Arnold eventually handed over the defensive plans of the Continental Army’s citadel, West Point, and the minutes from General George Washington’s September 6th War Council meeting that created a vulnerability for the Americans that could have proved catastrophic. 

It is easy to understand why West Point was so significant to the British.  It was crucial, not just as a military installation situated on the banks of the Hudson between New England and the Southern Colonies, but as a symbol of American strength and resolve. Perched on the high ground overlooking the Hudson, West Point had been there to thwart British attempts to dominate the 300-mile-long river which would have allowed them to effectively cut off the rebels of New England from the rest of the colonies. Losing West Point would have taken an important strategic foothold away from the Americans. The potential of losing General Washington in the process would have also dealt a severely damaging blow to the American cause, if not ending the war altogether. 

While the Arnold and André negotiations were taking place, a contingent of men, along with Peterson and Sherwood, had dragged the 4-pounder to Teller’s Point into position on the riverbank within range of the Vulture. 

Early in the morning, awakened by cannon fire, the conspirators at Smith’s house could see the Americans in the distance opening fire on the ship. Though he did not immediately know it, this would permanently separate André from his only means of a safe escape. Hit several times and stranded in the middle of the Hudson by a slack tide and unfavorable winds, the Vulture endured the cannon fire but eventually cut her cables to drift with the currents south to Dobbs Ferry. 

As a result of the retreat of the Vulture, an alternative plan was devised to get André back to the British lines. On the morning of the 22nd, in disguise and with a pass written by Arnold to travel unmolested behind American lines under the alias John Anderson, he and Smith began the overland trek back to British-occupied New York City.  Arnold returned to his home at West Point. What was clear from André’s later testimony was that he felt like this change of plan made him a victim of circumstance saying he “thought it was settled that in the way I came I was also to return.”

What were the motivations for the thirty-nine-year-old hero of Saratoga, who had risen through the military ranks to become one of Washington’s most effective field generals, to give up not only West Point, but his reputation in history? Much has been written, but what is known is that he had been living a life well beyond his means. His wife Peggy Shippen, half his age and from a prominent Philadelphia Loyalist merchant family, had a taste for luxury. To woo the 19-year-old, Arnold openly lived a life of excess while in Philadelphia which turned more than a few heads, wondering if he had secretly been trading with the British. 

Benedict Arnold was also known for his self-assured nature and temper. Infighting within certain circles of the military, and his discovery that several junior officers had received promotions ahead of him, provided him even more motivation to turn. Arnold felt the military did not display the respect that was due a war hero and this sentiment was on display in a letter to Washington on May 5, 1779.  “Having made every sacrifice of fortune and blood, and become a cripple in the service of my country, I little expected to meet the ungrateful returns I have received of my countrymen.”  Perhaps the influence placed upon him by his relationship with Peggy due to her father’s position, and his criticism of the American cause added more weight to his self-imposed need to betray his country. Consequently,  he began to develop a plan to turn over West Point to British General Sir Henry Clinton, with Major John André as the British intermediary.

The second day treading enemy soil was rather uneventful as André and Smith carefully made their way south to the original King’s Ferry which crossed the Hudson between Stony Point and Verplanck, the site of the former Fort Lafayette. The crossing was a nerve-wracking affair for André as this was the main ferry crossing for all Continental troops and supplies just outside of the watchful eye of the British forces in New York City 45 miles to the south. Following the Crom-Pond Road, the journey was slow and deliberate, befitting a spy and his Loyalist guide. As nightfall approached, they bedded down at a farmhouse before continuing their journey early the next morning. 

Isaac Underhill House – Where André ate his last breakfast (Wilford)

The pair continued to make their way along the Croton River until reaching the southernmost lines of the Continental Army where Smith left André just after finishing their breakfast at the Isaac Underhill house. By the time André had reached Tarrytown, New York, by way of the Albany Post Road, a road he had been told to avoid, his luck had run out. Isaac Underhill House – Where André ate his last breakfast (Wilford)

      At 9 o’clock on the morning of September 23, 1780, André was stopped by three militiamen at Clark’s Kill, a stream that today marks the boundary between Sleepy Hollow and Tarrytown, New York. According to André, he “was taken by three Volunteers who not Satisfied with my pass riffled me and finding papers Made me a prisoner.” Isaac Van Wart, John Paulding, and David Williams would go on to be considered heroes by most, but certainly not by all. One of their leading detractors was the person George Washington entrusted with returning André to West Point and ultimately Tappan for trial, Major Benjamin Tallmadge. Tallmadge was Washington’s chief intelligence officer and he believed the three militiamen were “of that class of person who passed between both armies.” He felt they lacked the very character he would end up heaping upon André.

André Capture Site (Wilford)

While the circumstances surrounding Major John André’s capture unfolded in Tarrytown, General Arnold, aware that his treacherous plot had been uncovered, and leaving behind his baby and a hysterically distraught Peggy Shippen, raced to avoid capture and meet up with the HMS Vulture. Upon his return from a meeting with French General Rochambeau at Hartford Connecticut, Washington, unaware of any involvement by Shippen, allowed her to return to her family in Philadelphia, perhaps letting go of an important bargaining chip in the process. It would later be learned that she might have been complicit in her husband’s treason. While she openly denied it, an admission from Theodosia Burr, Aaron Burr’s wife, that she admitted to her involvement as well as a £500 annual pension from King George III would suggest this.

Review: Matthew E.  Reardon, The Traitor’s Homecoming: Benedict Arnold’s Raid on New London, Connecticut, September 4-13, 1781.

On By erwguestIn Battlefields & Historic Places, Battles, Book Review, British Leadership, Continental Leadership, Emerging Revolutionary War, Memory, Militia (Patriot) Leadership, Personalities, Revolutionary WarLeave a comment

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Riley Sullivan, Professor of History at San Jacinto College in Houston, Texas.

While many might be familiar with famed engagements at places like Bunker Hill, Saratoga, and Yorktown during the Revolutionary War, few are familiar with the actions that took place near New London, Connecticut in September of 1781. However, for the people of Connecticut, the battles that took place near Groton Heights and New London have been immortalized as a campaign highlighted by treachery and massacre. Largely, this interpretation has been adopted due to the commander of the British forces who engaged in this raid, Benedict Arnold.

Perhaps no other name in American History brings about more scorn than that of Benedict Arnold. Having defected to the British cause late in the Revolutionary War, for Americans at the time–and even today–he is viewed as a modern day Judas. However, with such infamy ultimately comes much misinterpretation of this historical figure and the events he was involved in. In Matthew E. Reardon’s recent study The Traitor’s Homecoming, he attempts to undo much of this misinterpretation. Drawing on previously unused primary sources, Reardon constructs an engaging argument that challenges the traditional view of Arnold’s conduct in the New London raid.

To construct this narrative of the New London raid, Reardon attempts to place into context the setting of the New London raid. By this stage in the war, the conflict in New York had been a state of stalemate for the previous few years. However, with Generals Washington and Rochambeu’s combined Franco-American forces on the move, the British commander in the region, Henry Clinton—informed by faulty intelligence as Reardon demonstrated—was convinced that an attack on New York was imminent. As a result, to divert Washington’s attention away from a possible attack on New York, Clinton authorized Arnold to lead a contingent of British troops to attack the vulnerable Connecticut coastline.

New London made the ideal target for a British raid as it had been a hotbed for commerce and privateering for the Patriot cause. To conduct such a raid, Clinton turned to Arnold as he was both a native of Connecticut and familiar with the New London area. Largely only being contested by militia behind a number of forts that guarded approaches to both the town and the Thames River, Arnold’s combined force of Loyalists, Hessian Jaegers, and British regulars made quick work of the Patriot militia throughout the campaign. Even with New London in their hands, outside events–notably Clinton’s realization that Washington was moving on Cornwallis at Yorktown–led to Arnold having to relinquish his gains. However, with the high casualties suffered by both sides during the raid, coupled with the burning of much of the town, the events “cemented Benedict Arnold’s reputation for villainy.” (x)

When considering the traditional interpretation of Arnold’s raid on New London, Reardon makes it clear throughout his work that a “distorted interpretation” of the events had emerged (ix). From veterans to the Groton Battle Monument at Fort Griswold Battlefield State Park, the events that took place in Connecticut in 1781 have been enshrined as a massacre of Connecticut militia at the hands of Arnold. However, when looking at contemporary letters, diaries, and later pension records, Reardon demonstrates that there are some noticeable gaps within the traditional account of this campaign. In particular, when examining the death of Colonel William Ledyard–who was alleged to have been killed while attempting to surrender–Reardon concluded that through these sources, the traditional accounts accepted proved to be inconsistent with contemporary accounts of the campaign.

But, even with these inconsistencies, this is not to say that the fighting at Fort Griswold and the subsequent burning of New London was less than brutal. Reardon wrote that “the immediate reaction of the community was shock” and that “for many it was beyond comprehension.” (339) To no surprise, this sheer shock of the fighting coupled with Arnold’s involvement led to this distorted narrative of the campaign.

Through the examination of contemporary letters, diaries, and later pension applications, Reardon is able to reconstruct in great detail the events of Arnold’s New London raid and offer an unbiased narrative. By providing these fresh sources in The Traitor’s Homecoming, Reardon effectively builds on the existing literature of the subject and demonstrates how public perception can lead to the misinterpretation of historical events like that of the New London raid.

Details:

Matthew E.  Reardon, The Traitor’s Homecoming: Benedict Arnold’s Raid on New London, Connecticut, September 4-13, 1781. Published by: Savas Beatie LLC. Summer 2024. 448 Pages.

*Check out Emerging Revolutionary War’s YouTube page as well for a “Rev War Revelry” interview with author Matthew E. Reardon.*

Major John Van Dyk and the Bones of Major John André. Part I

On By erwguestIn British Leadership, Continental Leadership, Emerging Revolutionary War, Memory, Militia (Patriot) Leadership, Personalities, Revolutionary War4 Comments

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes historian and educator Jeffrey Collin Wilford to the blog. A brief biog is at the bottom of this post. A list of sources will be at the bottom of the concluding Part III.

Major John André and John Van Dyk: Continental Artillery Soldier 

Much has been written about the betrayal of America by Benedict Arnold. However, one small but candidly morbid fact buried in the story has not. It relates to the disposition of British Major John André’s remains as they lay in a wooden ossuary on a British mail ship on the banks of the Hudson River while awaiting their return to England in 1821. The only recorded recollection of this event was in a letter written by a 67-year-old former Revolutionary War soldier and published in a Virginia newspaper in 1825. This man also happened to be one of the four officers who escorted André to the gallows in Tappan, New York, on October 2, 1780. 

John Van Dyk lived a storied life, serving America as a militiaman, Continental Artillery soldier, customs officer, New York City assessor, and assistant alderman. He came from an old Dutch family that had settled in the original New Amsterdam colony, which would eventually become Manhattan. There is ample evidence that, in 1775, he was actively involved in significant acts of disobedience against British rule with other “Liberty Boys,” as the New York Sons of Liberty preferred to call themselves. 

One of these acts was stealing muskets and cannons from the Royal Armory and Fort George.  Under the encouragement of Isaac Sears and Marinus Willett,  he was one of a crowd of colonists who broke into the Royal Arsenal at City Hall on April 23, 1775, stealing  550 muskets, bayonets, and related munitions. The angry mob had been spurred to act by the attacks on their fellow countrymen the week previous at Lexington and Concord in Massachusetts. Every person who took a musket was required to sign for it, signaling a promise to return it if it was needed to fight against British occupation. That call came on July 4, 1775, when the New York Provincial Congress ordered them recalled to outfit newly commissioned  Colonel Alexander McDougall’s 1st New York Regiment. It was relayed that anyone who refused would be deemed an enemy of the state. In all, 434 muskets were returned. 

Exactly four months later, Captain John Van Dyk was one of sixty or so men who, under Liberty Boys Colonel John Lasher and Colonel John Lamb, executed the orders of the New York Provincial Congress to remove the cannon from Fort George at the southern tip of Manhattan and drag them back to the area of City Hall. With tensions high in the city, the state leaders feared they would be turned against the colonists if they were left in the hands of the British. One of the militia members assisting in the removal effort was 19-year-old King’s College student Alexander Hamilton of the Hearts of Oak independent militia. By this time, civil unrest had relegated the British colonial government to operating from naval ships anchored in New York Harbor, which made keeping the cannon secure from a more agitated population nearly impossible. 

Just before midnight on August 23, 1775, a skirmish ensued between  Lasher and Lamb’s men removing the cannon, and a British barge near the shore. It had been sent to monitor the rebels’ activity by Captain George Vandeput from the HMS Asia, a 64-gun British warship anchored near shore. Musket shots rang out, presumably started by the British, which resulted in the killing of a King’s soldier on the barge. As a result, the Asia turned broadside and opened fire with their cannons in a barrage on the city that lasted for three hours. A city whose population had already been diminished by the fear of a coming conflict, shrunk even further due to the terror experienced that night.  

John Van Dyk spent most of the next eight years as an officer in General Henry Knox’s artillery while under the command of Colonel John Lamb.  During the war, he saw action at Brooklyn, Harlem Heights, White Plains, Trenton, Brandywine, Germantown, Crosswicks Creek, Monmouth, and Short Hills. He was also at both Morristown winter encampments and Valley Forge. In 1780 he was captured by the British off the coast of New Jersey and confined on the prison ship HMS Jersey in Brooklyn before being released that summer.  

Van Dyk had spent months out of commission in late 1779 and early 1780 with what, according to his symptoms, was probably malaria or yellow fever.  He petitioned General Knox, who, in turn, appealed to General Washington for leave to recuperate. Making his way to West Point to meet with General Washington he was instructed by the Commander-in-Chief’s aide-de-camp to be evaluated by Dr. John Cochran, physician and surgeon general of the army of the Middle Department. On Cochran’s recommendation, General Washington wrote to President Samuel Huntington asking that the Continental Congress grant Van Dyk’s petition for an 8-month Furlow to sea to convalesce, which was common at the time as it was believed the fresh sea air was helpful to healing. Approved, it would take six months before he boarded the brig General Reed with a crew of 120 and 16 guns, a privateer out of Philadelphia commanded by  Samuel Davidson. Once aboard ship he was temporarily made a Lieutenant of Marines. 

Only two days into the voyage, on April 21, 1780, things took an immediate turn for the worse when they were intercepted and captured by the 28-gun HMS Iris and the 16-gun sloop HMS Vulture. The Iris was the former American warship USS Hancock, captured in July of 1777 and renamed by the British. Van Dyk was brought to Brooklyn and placed on the prison ship Jersey in Wallabout Bay, one of the most notorious and deadly places for holding American prisoners of war. Conditions were so poor that, while approximately 6,800 American soldiers died in battle during the Revolution, over 11,000 prisoners died on the Jersey alone! Fortunately for John Van Dyk, American officers were often traded off the Jersey for British officers who were in the custody of American forces. Within two months he was released and traveled to his temporary home of Elizabethtown, New Jersey to finish recuperating before rejoining Lamb’s artillery in Tappan, New York. 

John Van Dyk had experienced many horrors of war in the years and months leading up to the morning of September 21, 1780, when British Major John André, an Adjutant General to British General Sir Henry Clinton, left New York City and sailed up the Hudson River. This pivotal incident would brand one of Washington’s closest generals a traitor and lead to the death of the esteemed and well-liked André. Ironically, Major André traveled on the very same sloop that had assisted in the capture of Captain Van Dyk just six months earlier. 

Bio:

Jeffrey Wilford has been an educator in Maine for over 30 years where he holds certifications in history and science. He received a bachelor’s degree in communications with an emphasis in journalism from California State University – Fullerton and a master’s degree in education, teaching and learning, from the University of Maine. In addition to his career teaching, he has worked as a general assignment newspaper reporter and an assistant to the press secretary of former Maine Governor and US Congressman Joseph Brennen. He lives in Maine with his wife Nicolette Rolde Wilford.

Francis Channing Barlow: Chief Marshal of Concord’s Centennial

On By erwguestIn Battlefields & Historic Places, Emerging Revolutionary War, Memory, Revolutionary War3 Comments

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Andrea Quinn.

In April 1875, Concord, Massachusetts, commemorated the centennial of the American Revolution’s beginning with a celebration that merged historical remembrance with contemporary national healing. At the heart of this tribute stood Major General Francis Channing Barlow, chosen as Chief Marshal for the event. His presence and leadership embodied the spirit of both Concord’s revolutionary origins and the sacrifices of the recent Civil War. Though his life included many achievements—from battlefield valor to public service—it was in this role as Chief Marshal that Barlow served as a living link between generations of American struggle and aspiration.

Photo Credit: Library of Congress 1864 Photo General Francis Channing Barlow

Barlow’s appointment was no mere formality. A Civil War general known for integrity, courage, and commitment to reform, Barlow had deep ties to Concord. As a youth, he was shaped by the town’s intellectual and moral environment, attending lectures by Ralph Waldo Emerson and immersing himself in the ideals of Transcendentalism. This upbringing instilled in him a strong sense of civic duty, justice, and personal responsibility—qualities that defined his wartime leadership and post-war public service.

The Concord Centennial was intended as more than a local remembrance—it was a national event. The town’s planning committee sought a figure who could represent both the revolutionary past and the post-Civil War Union. Barlow, whose own life had traced the arc of American idealism—from Brook Farm to the battlefields of Gettysburg and Spotsylvania—was their clear choice.

Continue reading “Francis Channing Barlow: Chief Marshal of Concord’s Centennial” →

The Bloody Battle Road: Battle of Menotomy

On By erwguestIn 1775, America 250, Arms & Armaments, Battlefields & Historic Places, Civilian, Common Soldier, Lexington and Concord, Militia (Patriot) Leadership, Minute Men, Patriots Day, Personalities, Preservation, Revolutionary War, Uncategorized1 Comment

ERW Welcomes Matt Beres, Executive Director of the Arlington Historical Society

On the morning of April 19, 1775, the first shot of America’s War for Independence was fired on the Lexington Green. Later that morning, Major John Buttrick, commanding the local Provincial forces, gave the order to fire on the British Regulars at the North Bridge. This act would later be remembered as the “Shot Heard ‘Round the World,” a phrase immortalized by Ralph Waldo Emerson.

As Lt. Col. Smith’s British Regulars began their retreat back to Boston, Governor Thomas Gage sent a relief column of Regulars, led by General Hugh Percy. Meanwhile, Provincial militias and minute companies from surrounding towns marched toward the conflict, firing on both sides of the main road leading back to Boston. The Battle was just beginning.

While Lexington is famous as the site of the “first shot” and Concord for the “Shot Heard ‘Round the World,” Menotomy (present-day Arlington) is known as the site of the largest battle of the day, where fierce fighting erupted between the retreating British forces and the growing Provincial forces. The following stories are from this Battle.

David Lamson

Earlier that day, a convoy of provisions and supplies, protected by a detachment of British Regulars, arrived behind the main force heading toward Lexington and faced difficulties crossing the Brighton Bridge. Before their arrival, the Committee of Safety had removed the planks, and the combination of heavy wagons and repairs to the bridge caused the convoy to become separated from the main force, rendering it vulnerable.

An alarm rider from Cambridge alerted locals, prompting men from the ‘exempt’ or ‘alarm’ list—those unfit for regular Militia or Minute companies—to gather at Cooper’s Tavern to plan to capture the convoy. Among them was David Lamson, a biracial French and Indian War veteran, whose experience and bravery made him a natural leader. The group quickly appointed him as their Commanding Officer.

According to a story derived from Lamson himself, they positioned themselves behind a stone wall near the First Parish Meeting House. As the convoy approached, they ordered it to surrender. When the drivers urged their horses forward, Lamson’s men fired, killing the driver and several horses, and wounding two Regulars. In panic, the remaining six Regulars fled toward Spy Pond, and discarded their weapons.

It is said they then surrendered to an old woman, Mother Bathericke, who was in the field picking flowers. The old woman forced them to the house of Ephraim Frost, Captain of the Menotomy Militia, and stated, “… you tell King George that an old woman took six of his grenadiers prisoners.”

Samuel Whittemore

Aiden Lassell Ripley (1896-1969), Retreat from Lexington at the Foot of the Rocks. A.2.509. Arlington Historical Society Collections

Around 4:00 pm, the retreating British Regulars arrived at the village Menotomy. It was here where Samuel Whittemore, the oldest known combatant of the Revolutionary War, earned his fame. During the conflict, Whittemore took cover behind a stone wall. He reportedly fired at five soldiers but was soon overwhelmed. He suffered a gunshot wound to the cheek and a bayonet stab wound. When the Regulars continued their retreat, the locals carried him to Cooper’s Tavern, where Dr. Tufts of Medford treated his injuries.

Remarkably, Whittemore survived for another 18 years after suffering these life-threatening wounds. He lived long enough to see the birth of a new and independent nation.

Jason Russell

Later during their retreat, Gen. Percy ordered his men to enter the residences along Concord Road (now Massachusetts Avenue) to eliminate the Provincials who were firing from inside these houses. One notable example was the site of Jason Russell House.

Ruth L. Berry, 1975. Jason Russell House in Battle With British Soldiers 1990.19.1. Arlington Historical Society Collections

Jason Russell was a middle-aged farmer who reportedly had a leg disability. He barricaded his property and refused to leave, asserting, “An Englishman’s house is his castle.”

As British Regulars surrounded his home, several Provincials from different towns sought refuge inside. Tragically, Jason Russell and several others lost their lives on his property.

Today, the c. 1740 house, still bearing musket ball holes in the remaining structure from the fight, is at the heart of the Arlington Historical Society’s regional history museum, offering guided tours and engaging exhibits that highlight the lasting impacts of the American Revolution and Arlington’s broader history.

Explore more at: https://arlingtonhistorical.org/

Matt Beres

Executive Director

Arlington Historical Society

“…there never was a more ridiculous expedition…” Oswego Raid 1783 – Part I

On By erwguestIn Battles, Common Soldier, Emerging Revolutionary War, Memory, Northern Theater, Personalities, Revolutionary War, UncategorizedLeave a comment

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Eric Olsen. Eric is a historian with the National Park Service at Morristown National Historical Park. Click here for more information about the site.

Years ago, while I was looking at a list of disabled Revolutionary War veterans from Rhode Island I noticed some curious things. The list didn’t provide much information. It just gave the name and age of the veteran, their disability and how they were injured. At first, I was excited because I found a couple of guys who were wounded at the battle of Springfield in June 1780. But then I noticed a number of other men whose information seemed a little odd.

Several men were listed as having lost toes. Those same men had all lost their toes at a place called Oswego. Their wounds had all occurred in February 1783. A couple of the men even had the same unusual name of “Prince.”  For me this raised several questions which required more research.

Fort Ontario at Oswego in 1759

Where in the World is Oswego?

It turns out Oswego is a town in New York state on the eastern shore of Lake Ontario where it connects with the Oswego River. The name “Oswego” comes from the Iroquois word meaning “pouring out place” which is appropriate since it is where the Oswego River flows out into Lake Ontario. Heading inland, the Oswego River connects with the Oneida River which flows out of Oneida Lake.

In the 18th century lakes and rivers were the interstate highways of the day. Boats traveling on water could travel faster and carry heavier loads than wagons could on dirt roads. As a result, settlements developed along waterways and forts were built at strategic points where waterways connected.

The British originally established Oswego as a trading post on the northwest side of the mouth of the Oswego River. It was first fortified in 1727 and was known as the Fort of the Six Nations or Fort Oswego. By 1755 Fort Ontario was built on the opposite side of the river to bolster the area’s defenses during the French and Indian War. That fort was destroyed by the French in 1756 and rebuilt by the British in 1759. During the Revolutionary War, the fort was the starting point for St. Leger’s march against Fort Stanwix in 1777. Later the fort was abandoned by the British and destroyed by the Americans in 1778. The British returned and rebuilt the fort in 1782.

Continue reading ““…there never was a more ridiculous expedition…” Oswego Raid 1783 – Part I” →