A quick Google search reveals that approximately 230,000 men served in the Continental Army during the eight years of the American Revolutionary War. A handful of those rank-and-file soldiers are well known, like Joseph Plumb Martin. A smattering of junior officers, like John Eager Howard or Robert Kirkwood, Jr. usually ring a bell of memory for those enthusiasts of the Revolution. Of the 73 generals that received, earned, or were granted commissions in the Continental Army more names are what we colloquially refer to as “household names.” Thousands more served in militias and on the water with the fledgling Continental Navy or aboard privateers.
I would not be raising a contentious point when I say that the majority of the men who donned the Continental uniform, fought, froze, starved, were wounded, and/or survived are lost to history. Through a myriad of reasons and mostly not from any fault of theirs. That is why, when doing research, especially with the aid and power of the internet, finding personal accounts, reminiscent, and battlefield stories, the Revolutionary era historian gets excited. That excitement generated this post.
While researching in general, for posts to bring to you, and for potential upcoming publications, I came across, naturally, the website for the National Archives. Many of you have accessed the site and/or visited the archives in Washington D.C. to do primary research. Nothing new to elaborate with on that point. However, I was intrigued by a new–to me–section of the website research section. The page was labeled “Citizen Archivist Dashboard, Stories from the Pension Files.”
Situated near the York River, across the street from the American Revolution Museum of Yorktown, sits a monument commemorating the French soldiers that fought, bled, and for some, gave their lives during the siege.
A few years ago, or 1421 days ago to be exact, I pulled over into the parking lot for that monument, walked up, and gave a cursory look at the names and the wording. I did not speak or read French–much to the detriment of my French teacher in high school I must say–but determined there that I would. Later that same evening I downloaded the language learning app Duolingo and started a streak, which if you had not guessed already, has reached 1421 straight days.
I recently went back to that monument and could at least interpret enough of the wording to understand the gist. Good start.
The monument in question Author collection
I now take that rudimentary language foundation capability on the road. Where may you ask?
Screenshot to confirm streak
Next week, after deciding approximately a whole 10 days ago, that following the wedding of a cousin in Connecticut, I would drive the remaining 7 hours to Quebec, Canada. Impromptu? Kind of. Just have to remember to pack my passport!
A bucket list item of mine in the history column is to see the famous Plains of Abraham, from one of the climactic battles of the French and Indian (Seven Years’ War), fought 267 years ago this month, on September 13. I also want to walk the last footsteps of General Richard Montgomery as he led an unsuccessful attack by the fledging rebellious American military against the British during the first winter of the American Revolution. I may have missed the anniversary but at least I am within the same year-ish (since the battle was fought on New Year’s Eve 1775).
Side note, Maryland honors Montgomery by a county named in his honor, one of, if not the first, place, county, town, etc. to be named for a person not related to the British monarchy, aristocracy, or gentry. Along with Washington, the two counties in Maryland were siphoned off of Frederick in 1776.
Stay tuned next, week to Emerging Revolutionary War’s Facebook page as I will go live there.
And then I will retreat to a Quebec cafe…or brewery and test out my French…so if you have a suggestion of a can’t miss place, drop a comment below!
The American Revolution is often remembered through the familiar lens of successful campaigns and their contributing commanders: General George Washington at Yorktown, Virginia, and General Horatio Gates at Saratoga, New York, to name two of the most significant. Yet the Revolution was an international conflict fought across a much wider geographic area than just along the eastern seaboard of North America. In An Underappreciated Victory, Stephen L. Kling, Jr. and Kristine L. Sjostrom seek to restore one of these overlooked campaigns to its proper place in the history of the war. Their study of Bernardo de Gálvez’s 1779 Mississippi River campaign demonstrates how Spain, despite pursuing its own strategic interests, contributed materially to the defeat of Britain and how Gálvez’s leadership produced significant results with remarkably limited resources.
The authors begin by establishing the strategic importance of Spanish Louisiana and the Mississippi River Valley. Following Spain’s entry into the war against Britain in 1779, Louisiana became both a potential target for British operations and a valuable base from which Spain could threaten British possessions. New Orleans was particularly vulnerable. British control of posts along the Mississippi posed a danger to Spanish interests while also threatening communications and commerce throughout the region. Rather than remain on the defensive, Gálvez recognized an opportunity to seize the initiative.
It is in this decision that the authors make one of their strongest arguments about Gálvez’s leadership. His forces were hardly overwhelming, and the campaign presented formidable logistical challenges. Distance, weather, disease, difficult terrain, transportation problems, and uncertain intelligence, all complicated operations. Gálvez nevertheless chose an offensive strategy. His willingness to act before the British could concentrate their forces became one of the campaign’s defining characteristics. The resulting operations against British positions, culminating in the capture of Baton Rouge and other posts, demonstrated the effectiveness of surprise, mobility, intelligence, and decisive leadership.
Kling and Sjostrom are very effective in showing that the campaign cannot be understood solely through its engagements. Logistics and geography receive significant attention, revealing the extent to which environmental conditions shaped military possibilities along the Mississippi River. The campaign’s success therefore becomes more impressive when measured against the obstacles continuing to confront Gálvez. His achievement was not simply that he defeated British forces; it was that he managed to organize and sustain an offensive in an environment that severely restricted the movement and supply of armies.
Another of the book’s greatest strengths is its use of multinational sources. By incorporating Spanish, British, and German accounts, the authors move beyond the predominantly Anglo-American perspective that has traditionally dominated Revolutionary War narratives. These sources allow them to reconstruct events from competing viewpoints and provide greater insight into the decisions made by both sides. Their documentary approach also strengthens the case for reconsidering Gálvez’s campaign as a serious military operation rather than an isolated episode on the margins of the Revolution.
The book’s greatest historiographical contribution, however, lies in its reassessment of Spain’s role in the American Revolution. Spain did not enter the war solely to assist the American colonies; it had territorial, commercial, and geopolitical objectives of its own. Nevertheless, those objectives frequently aligned with the interests of the American revolutionaries. Gálvez’s campaign illustrates how Spanish military operations diverted British attention and resources while weakening British control of the Gulf Coast and Mississippi Valley. The authors therefore broaden the traditional interpretation of the Revolution from an Anglo-American struggle supported by France into a genuinely international conflict.
The study is not without potential limitations. This book is a deep and exhaustive study of a particular subsect of war, designed to be the volume on this aspect. Similarly, the authors’ admiration for Gálvez occasionally raises the question of whether they attribute his successes too heavily to exceptional leadership rather than to a combination of favorable circumstances, British weaknesses, and Spanish strategic interests. Nevertheless, the evidence presented makes a convincing case that Gálvez exercised considerable initiative and understood the advantages of striking quickly against dispersed British positions.
Ultimately, An Underappreciated Victory shows that the importance of a military campaign cannot always be measured by the size of participants or soldiers. Gálvez’s 1779 Mississippi campaign involved relatively modest forces compared with the armies that fought at Saratoga or Yorktown, yet its strategic consequences were considerably greater than its obscurity might suggest. Kling and Sjostrom provide a valuable reconstruction of the campaign while challenging readers to reconsider the geographic and international dimensions of the American Revolution. Their study establishes Gálvez not merely as a peripheral Spanish commander but as an important participant in the broader struggle against Britain. In doing so, An Underappreciated Victory makes a persuasive case that the campaign—and Gálvez himself—deserve a more prominent place in the history of the American Revolution.
THGC Publishing, St. Louis, MO 2026 634 pages, including images $50.00
From June 28, 1778, until October 1781, there is a gap in major engagements by the main Continental Army under the command of General George Washington. A few minor engagements, at Springfield, Connecticut Farms in New Jersey or Stony Point in New York, occurred. Actions in the Southern Theater occupied much of that period and Newport, Rhode Island became a focal point as well, especially with the French arrival. Historians, especially popular and public historians, tend to quickly cover these approximately three years of war in short order, moving onto the finality.
Yet, these years are important, especially to understand the other facets of warfare, rebellion, and revolution. Diving into the primary sources, from the quill pens of Washington, his fellow generals, staff officers, Continental Congress, and the soldiery that comprised the Continental and militia forces, and one can easily surmise how important those non-major-warfare years were. Luckily for the avid students and enthusiasts of the American Revolutionary War, we now have a concise, richly researched, and impactfully created prose published by Casemate and authored by Jeffrey A. Denman to fill this gap.
A glance at Denman’s biography reveals that he was a public-school teacher and historian who has a resume filled with publications and researched articles. He takes that acquired skill set into this publication, weaving the story, sprinkled with direct quotes and primary source material, for an accurate and compelling overview of the high-stakes of the American Revolution and how success very much so hung in the balance from 1778 – 1781.
At the center is Washington, as the “book tracks…strategic and personal contributions across multiple theaters of war…” (pg. xv). This includes relationships with other military and political leaders, along with the French commander, Rochambeau, in how he “carefully navigated French egos, the paralysis of Congress, and state politics…” (pg. xvii). Yet Denman’s goal is to provide a balanced approach to these years from Monmouth Courthouse in 1778 to Yorktown in 1781, “History proves that Washington was not a great military strategist…committed serious tactical mistakes” but “no man…could match Washington in courage, fearlessness, and devotion to his country.” (pgs. xvi-xvii).
Concluding his introduction, Denman clearly states the purpose of the following pages and why, although no major engagements were fought for over three years under Washington’s command, “this book, focusing on moments and locales rarely chronicled, provides an in-depth and captivating window into how one individual galvanized meager resources to accomplish the extraordinary” (pg. xvii).
Have you ever heard of the popular saying, “No good deed goes unpunished?”
I wonder if there is a reverse to that, especially when it comes to stumbling into history?
Earlier in June, my uncle needed to go out of town and wanted someone to watch his house and two cats. He resides outside of Wilmington, Delaware. Thinking mid-June would be a good time to catch some of the historical sites in Philadelphia on the brink of the 250th in July, and with World Cup soccer games being played in the same city, even better.
I planned to go into the “City of Brotherly Love” one day, but thought the other day I would just drive around Wilmington and New Castle and see what I could discover. A day with no set plans. And that is when I stumbled into “Separation Day” in New Castle.
Depicted in various paintings, still standing watch over Breed’s Hill, his name is synonymous with the heroic American defense of the earthen redoubt that graced the aforementioned hill. Although forced to evacuate the work when overwhelmed by the third British advance and out of ammunition, Prescott had shown his value as a competent battlefield leader. Especially of the militia.
Yet, as America approached the 250th anniversary of the country, there had not been a single dedicated biography that covered his entire life. Prescott is mentioned in plenty of great historical works on the battle, the region, and the lives of other patriots who fought that day. But the Massachusetts native deserved more. Entered Donald R. Ryan.
Ryan, a volunteer historian and guide for Boston National Historical Park, took on the task of researching, locating, and even contacting living descendants of Prescott. You can now hold in your hands and read his excellent work on this great military figure, best known for his role in one of the most iconic battles of the American Revolution.
Before you do get your copy and settle in to read, tune in on Sunday evening, as Ryan will appear on our popular “Rev War Revelry” to discuss his book. Emerging Revolutionary War will go live at 7 p.m. EDT. and stream to our Facebook page.
Cannot make the live program on Sunday evening? Don’t fret, the program will be posted to our podcast and YouTube channels in the days after. Either way, hope you tune in to learn about Col. Prescot!
Dr. Richard Bell, historian and professor of history at the University of Maryland, will discuss his new book, “The American Revolution and the Fate of the World.” Published by Penguin Random House, this “revelatory and enthralling book, award-winning historian Richard Bell reveals the full breadth and depth of America’s founding event. The American Revolution was not only the colonies’ triumphant liberation from the rule of an overbearing England; it was also a cataclysm that pulled in participants from around the globe and threw the entire world order into chaos.”
We look forward to you tuning in to this Sunday evening, 7 pm EDT on our Facebook page for this discussion with Dr. Bell!
When you think of Maryland in the American Revolutionary War, what are the first connections that come to mind? Taking a stab at it, probably the Maryland 400 during the Battle of Brooklyn in 1776? Or possibly the 1st Maryland at the Battle of Guilford Court House in 1781? If you are a national park junkie, potentially Thomas Stone National Historic Site, home of one of Maryland’s four Signers of the Declaration of Independence, may come to mind. If you are not familiar with that NPS unit, click here.
To fill in those gaps, Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes historian Drew Palmer. He is the creator of Revolutionary Maryland, which is an online public history blog that is “dedicated to uncovering and sharing all things related to the state’s experience during this transformative period.”
Palmer is a Revolutionary War historian, a U.S. high school history teacher, and the creator of Revolutionary Maryland. Palmer has worked as a public historian at numerous historic sites over the years, including Appomattox Courthouse, Fort Ticonderoga, Adams National Historical Park, and Fort McHenry National Monument and Shrine. Palmer’s research primarily focuses on the Revolutionary War in Maryland and the South. Most recently, he published his research on Fort Whetstone and the Maryland Matrosses during the Revolutionary War. He also worked with Fort McHenry to direct a short documentary on Fort McHenry’s 250 years of history. Palmer earned his B.A. in history from DeSales University in 2023 and his M.A. in applied history from Shippensburg University in 2024. He currently lives outside of Baltimore and is working on multiple research topics involving the Revolutionary War.
Emerging Revolutionary War is proud to welcome a great emerging historian of the Revolutionary War Era to the “Revelry.” We hope you can join us, live, on Sunday, April 19, at 7 p.m. EDT on our Facebook page.
If one peruses the shelves of their favorite bookstore, histories line the shelves with words in their title “new look,” or “fresh perspective,” or “revisited,” or “rediscovered.” Usually, I am skeptical about what that history entails and whether that perspective will be based on a factual foundation or the author’s interpretation. That last word, “rediscovered,” graces the subtitle of William Edmund Fahey’s edited volume for The History Press. Fahey, who holds a doctorate degree and is a Fellow and President of Thomas More College in Merrimack, New Hampshire. In 2024, he was appointed the historian of the New Hampshire Society of the Sons of the American Revolution.
With that background, one can be assured that his “rediscovered” history will be based on impeccable research and accounts that have, unintentionally, been overlooked through the passage of time. That is the case in “New Hampshire and Independence, Rediscovered Writings from the Sons of the American Revolution.” As “questions or even needs that have arisen in recent years. The 250th anniversary of sovereignty is upon Americans” (pg. 29). This is the volume to understand and, if I may, borrow a word, rediscover the role of this small but important colony and its contributions to American victory in the American Revolutionary War.
“The structure of this book is rather straightforward…” (Pg. 30). Part one “sets the mood…the multi-generational effort to reflect, remember, and value the past” (Pgs. 30-31). “The heart of the book is found in the six addresses…” that comprises the entire second part of the publication (Pg. 31). Fahey wraps up this edited volume with the last section, part three, offering “readers key resources to become involved in the Sons of the American Revolution” (Pg. 31). Part four provides key legislative and primary source material for referencing and sparking research into the period. Now, let’s examine key points from each section to show Fahey’s mastery of the material and editorial prowess.
A time travel work of non-fiction to a foreign country are words usually not associated with a history of “the American Founding.” Yet that is exactly the intent of historian and author Joseph Ellis as he begins his exploration of this most important era of American history. Unlike those science-fiction journeys, this “trip will be different. Our tour will focus on the downside of the American founding.” (Pg. ix).
That downside is quickly explained by Ellis in his book The Great Contradiction: The Tragic Side of the American Founding. The past winner of a National Book Award for his work on the character of Thomas Jefferson, Ellis plans to “focus on two unquestionably horrific tragedies the founders oversaw: the failure to end slavery, and the failure to avoid Indian removal.” (Pg. ix).
Let’s review how this seasoned historian fulfilled his tour outline. “Most of the achievements were unprecedented…” as the triumphant British colonies made “the United States the political model of the liberal state.” That is the truth, “but it is not the whole truth…” as Ellis explains, “there are two legacies of the founding era…and both qualify as enormous tragedies.” Combined, “these triumphal and tragic elements constitute the ingredients for an epic historical narrative.” Ellis’s tour will include this “coexistence of grandeur and failure, brilliance and blindness, grace and sin” in his attempt to counteract how the narrative has so long been written by historians, which is of the “either/or” persuasion (Pgs. 17-18).
Since his aim is to provide context for how the world of the founding generation is vastly different than the one that has congealed over time, Ellis quickly reorients the lodestar of that time. “As far as the American founding is concerned, it is a lie—or, if you prefer less disturbing language, a massive delusion. None of the prominent founders believed they were creating a democracy” (Pg. 17).
“The political lodestar for the revolutionary generation was not ‘the people’ but, rather, ‘the public,’ or public things” rather “the public interest was the long-term interest of the people…” (Pg. 17).
As he further develops his approach, Ellis provides parameters: “if the original sin of American history is slavery, and racism its toxic residue, the original sin for American historians is ‘presentism.” In other terms, utilizing 21st-century “political and moral values” as the criteria to assess those in the Revolutionary era (Pg. 18).
Although there are two tragedies, the role of slavery and the failure to provide a roadmap to extinction have more dedicated pages in this book than the plight of the Native Americans, and Ellis admits that early on. Discussing the saga of the potential to end slavery, the debates, factors, and ultimate outcome are propped up by astute analysis by Ellis, and uncovering primary sources to let the founders speak as often as possible. The failure to end the institution of slavery must be judged the greatest failure of the revolutionary generation.” The passing of Benjamin Franklin, the “Virginia Staddle”, and other near chances provide a fascinating, yet tragic, “what if” scenario that Ellis unpacks with brilliant prose. (Pg. 129).
The same can be said about the early republic and the relations with Native Americans, as “there is an almost irresistible urge to wonder if the story could have turned out differently.” The failure, though, once again, is frustrating. Part of that reason was the weakness of the Federal government and the inability to “impose its will on the state of Georgia and the white population” when facing the boundary of the Creek country. Although exceptional leadership by George Washington as president and Henry Knox as secretary of war, did formulate a treaty with the Creeks, due to the lack of strength and minuscule numbers in the United States Army, “at virtually every level—logistical, economic, political—there was not the remotest chance of implementing” the treaty. As the Federal government grew and the white population expanded, this scenario would transform somewhat—the Federal government gaining strength—but the conclusion for the Native Americans, sadly, was always the same. Loss of standing and loss of land and loss of ability to dictate terms or maintain their way of life (Pgs. 166-167).
Ellis addresses the questions that lie at America’s twisted roots and, with candor and deftness, successfully rises above the presentism that he highlighted as a curse for historians and history enthusiasts, especially of the current culture wars. This narrative is a must-read to understand these pivotal questions and ultimate failures of the early American republic, which even the “sharpest minds of the revolutionary generation” could not solve.
Book Information: Alfred A. Knopf, New York, 2025, 226 pages, including images, bibliography, and index $31.00
