Part of an ongoing series about the Continental Army in Morristown, New Jersey. To read previous posts, click here.
All that remains is a historical marker, on the side of North Park Place across the street from Morristown Green. For a few months, between January 1777 and May 1777, in this location, the headquarters of the Continental Army was located. Within that headquarters, obviously, was George Washington.
Although no specific date of construction exists, it is believed that Arnold’s Tavern was built by Samuel Arnold between 1735 and 1750. By the time of the American Revolution owned by the son, Colonel Jacob Arnold. The structure was three stories high, with a wide hallway that bisected the building, a front and back parlor, barroom, dining room, and kitchen. Continue reading “Uncovering the Continental Army in Morristown”→
Part of an ongoing series of about the Continental Army in Morristown, New Jersey. For the first post, click here.
“The smallpox has made such head in every quarter that I find it impossible to keep it from spreading thro’ the whole army the natural way.” General George Washington wrote in February 1777.
By the time the Continental Army was encamped in Morrristown, Washington had become a firm believer in the inoculations for smallpox for the entire army. The inoculation process would entail the following: Continue reading “Uncovering the Continental Army in Morristown”→
Approximately one month ago, I took a temporary detail assignment to Morristown National Historical Park. The national park preserves the winter cantonments of the Continental Army during the American Revolution; including the harshest winter, weather-wise, of the entire war, in 1779-1780.
For parts of multiple winters and even during the campaigning season, Washington’s forces would come to Morristown, situated behind the Watchung Mountains, which provided safety but also a perch to monitor the British in the New York City.
The town still bears witnesses to this rich legacy of housing soldiers, with historic buildings and signs dotted around the spiraling town. On a walk the other day, I came across the house below, with a small plaque situated on the front of the dwelling.
The home saw soldiers use it for their encampments throughout the majority of the war years. On his return to the United States the Marquis de Lafayette was welcomed with a reception in the building as well, which is in the photo below.
Morristown is filled with tidbits of history from the American Revolution and I as spend the next few months there as a park ranger, I will share what I come across. So, stay tuned as I uncover the history of the place that “Saved America” according to the park’s unofficial slogan.
When writing a book, one of the most important initial aspects is picking a title. The author needs one that is expressive, attracts attention, but has some overall tie-in that provides a fitting capture of the essence of the book.
One of the advantages of writing history is the use of quotes. Let the participants, combatants, or witnesses of the event provide the context for a title. When one resonates, go with it!
With the recent publication, the co-author, Robert Orrison and myself bounced various potential titles off each other. Then we had a list of our favorites included in the initial information sheet sent to Ted Savas, of Savas Beatie, LLC, the publisher. Yet, one continued to stand out, as it was written in a diary by a British junior officer slightly more than a month before the Battles of Lexington and Concord.
The entire inscription is below:
“It is certain both sides were ripe for it, and a single blow would have occasioned the commencement of hostilities.” —Lieutenant Frederick Mackenzie, Royal Welch Fusiliers, March 6, 1775.
Mackenzie’s uncanny foresight predicted the exact outcome of the fighting that erupted on April 19, 1775. With casualties suffered by both sides, the war of words and near-misses became a war of shot and shell.
Hostilities had commenced and we had a title. A Single Blow: The Battles of Lexington and Concord and the The Beginning of the American Revolution.
Love brought Dr. Samuel Prescott, a practicing physician, to the town of Lexington on the night of April 18, 1775. The young doctor was courting Ms. Lydia Mulliken, when the alarm of the British soldiers marching from Boston went out to the local militia. Lydia’s brother was one of those called to gather.
Love. That emotion also drew Dr. Prescott back toward his hometown of Concord—this time to alert friends, neighbors, and family members of the urgent news of the evening. En route, Dr. Prescott along with Paul Revere and William Dawes, alerted the countryside of the moving British troops. After being vetted and vouchsafed as a true friend of liberty, Dr. Prescott rode posthaste to his hometown, where his word carried greater weight.
A artist’s interpretation of Paul Revere’s (or maybe William Dawes or Dr. Samuel Prescott)’s ride to warn the Massachusetts countryside. (courtesy of VFW)
“the Country was an amazing strong one; full of Hills, Woods, stone Walls, & c., which the Rebels did not fail to take advantage of, for they were all lined with People who kept an incessant fire upon us…”
From the diary of Lieutenant Frederick Mackenzie who was part of the 23rd Regiment–the Royal Welch Fusiliers that survived the ordeal of April 19, 1775. He would keep a diary until the early 1790’s and chronicled his experiences in the American Revolutionary War. His account on April 19, of the retreat from Concord is most descriptive. The British did not just take the brunt of the firing as the marched hurriedly back toward Boston and safety, but;
“as we did too upon them, but not with the same advantage, as they were so concealed there was hardly any seeing them: in this way we marched between 9 and 10 miles, their numbers increasing from all parts…”
The column was led by Lieutenant Colonel Francis Smith and had been tasked by General Thomas Gage, British military leader in North America, to root out the military supplies being stored in Concord by the colonials. The mission, albeit supposedly secretive, did not remain so for long, and the colonials got word out to the countryside. After initial firing at Lexington Green and then at the North Bridge in Concord, the British had to march back through the countryside, facing arriving militia and minute men.
“while ours was reducing by deaths, wounds, and fatigue; and we were totally surrounded with such an incessant fire as it is impossible to conceive; our ammunition was likewise near expended.”
Modern-day view along Battle Road, the route the British column retreated back toward Boston on (author collection)
Luckily, for Mackenzie and the other struggling British officers and rank-and-file, on a rise in the ground, outside the town of Menotomy, was a relief column, ready to provide a few moments’ respite.
While reading background on the siege and victory at Yorktown, Virginia in October 1781, I came across the following passage written by historian Jerome Greene.
“The officer was then quickly escorted to Washington’s headquarters in a nearby house, where he delivered Cornwallis’s message: “I propose a Cessation of Hostilities for 24 hours, & that two Officers may be appointed by each side, to meet at Mr. Moore’s house to settle terms for the Surrender of the Posts of York & Gloucester.” One can only imagine the emotions coursing through Washington’s body as he read these words.”
That last line is what really struck me.
Every image we have of George Washington depicts a stoic expression staring back out of us. Historians have a few instances from a long life of the Washington behind the marble, behind the self-imposed restraint, that he crafted for posterity.
However, he was human, he did have a fiery temper and he was a passionate person. One of the reasons he strove so hard to mask those emotions, to keep them in check, to keep perspective, and to persevere.
Those competing inclinations would have been bubbling at the surface on October 17, 1781, when that written communication was handed to him outside Yorktown, Virginia. What that moment must have been like, for Washington, for the French and American forces, and for all those fighting in favor of American independence.
Jerome Greene wondered about it. I am curious about it. Are you?
From a Pennsylvania State Historical Commission marker, one quickly can find out the importance of Osborne Hill to the Battle of Brandywine, fought on September 11, 1777.
Osborne Hill Marker (courtesy of Keith Smith, hmdb.org)
The hillside was the site of British General William Howe’s post in which he coordinated and commanded the different components of the British and Hessian forces that day. The battle opened the way for the British conquest of Philadelphia and was the largest, in terms of manpower fighting, of any American Revolutionary War battle.
A precedent was set in early July for the young and aspiring American republic. A date other than July 4th and in fact, nine days and eleven years later.
July 13, 1787.
Northwest Ordinance (courtesy of OurDocuments.gov)
On that date, the United States Congress enacted the Northwest Ordinance which set in motion the precedent for how new states would enter the burgeoning United States of America. In 1784 the groundwork for the Northwest Ordinance was laid, rejecting a proposal that new territories, carved from ceded land of current states, would enter as colonies. Congress set up the following parameters. Continue reading “Northwest Territory: Setting a Precedent”→
Now I know what you are thinking…the famous song by The Eagles. But, no.
Corner where Fort Gatlin once stood, Gatlin Avenue is running left to right, South Summerlin is off the right of the photo. Historical marker sign on left side of photo, D.A.R stone marker across street (to the right of the Jeep in the driveway)
Continuing a theme from the last post, military history in Orlando, I did find myself standing on a street corner, South Summerlin Avenue and Gaitlin Avenue. That is when I noticed the small stone marker, placed by the Daughters of the American Revolution. Placed next to a hedge, on the corner of a driveway, sits until recently, the only reminder of this former military installation. Around this fort sprung a small county that became the county seat of Orange County, Florida by 1856. Which grew into Orlando.
An 1844 survey of Orange County, depicting Fort Gatlin (courtesy of the Bureau of Land Management, General Land Office Records and The Florida Historical Society
Constructed on November 9, 1838, by Lieutenant Alexander Fanning and four companies of the 4th U.S. Artillery, the post was one of several built across the breadth of central Florida during the Second Seminole War. Named in honor of Dr. John S. Gatlin, who had been killed in Major Dade’s Massacre on December 28, 1835. After completing the post, which was situated on a rise that commanded three lakes, Lt. Fanning and three companies departed, leaving 1st Lieutenant F.E. Hunt.
After June 1839, the United States Army had abandoned the post, yet state militia continue to garrison the wooden ramparts. A brief return in October 1849 by the army led to it becoming an active post, briefly, until the soldiers left shortly thereafter.
One side of informational panel of the Eagle Scout project for Fort Gatlin
Abandoned, besides the stone marker, until recently. A great Eagle Scout project produced a wooden two-panel history of Fort Gatlin, Native American history, early settlers, and the 2nd Seminole War. This stands on the same corner as the Florida historical marker and across the intersection from the Daughters of the American Revolution stone marker.
Florida Historical Marker for the Site of Fort Gatlin
D.A.R. stone marker (FYI ADT sign is for the residence next door)
And standing for one day, a man on astreet corner, looking for history, a fine sight to see.
Emerging Revolutionary War Era 