Join us this Sunday at 7pm on our Facebook page as we welcome historian and author Gabe Neville back to Rev War Revelry. Gabe has just finished and published one of the most comprehensive Revolutionary War unit histories ever written. Focusing on the Eighth Virginia Regiment, Neville’s book titled “The Last Men Standing, The Eighth Virignia Regiment” is a must have for anyone’s library. We will talk with Gabe about his research, interesting tidbits of his book and what let him to this project.
This presentation witll be LIVE at 7pm on Sunday, August 24th. Tune in and share any thoughts or questions in the chat. Gabe is always a fun chat, so grab a drink and enjoy learning about his in depth research on the 8th Virginia Regiment.
Fort Mercer. Fort Mifflin. The Whitemarsh Campaign. Names of battles and maneuvers that “receive but scant attention in the literature of the American Revolution.” Until now. Award-winning author and historian Michael C. Harris returns to Emerging Revolutionary War to discuss his latest book.
Finishing the trilogy, started with Brandywine, continued with Germantown, and now Fighting for Philadelphia. Just released by Savas Beatie this month!
Enjoy this pre-recorded “Rev War Revelry” and get a synopsis of why this book is needed on your bookshelf. Join Emerging Revolutionary War Sunday at 7 p.m. EDT.
Pennsylvania State House, ca. 1770. Courtesy of the National Park Service
On May 10, 1775, the delegates convened their Second Continental Congress in Philadelphia. Unlike the First Continental Congress held a year before, this Congress had more delegates and met in the Pennsylvania State House and not Carpenters Hall. Also, events spiraled out of control since 1774, and the northern colonies were in outright rebellion with the battles of Lexington and Concord and the capture of Fort Ticonderoga. The delegates dived into several heavy topics as now blood was shed and an army of several thousand besieged the British in Boston.
Just before the Congress met John Adams wrote “our prospect of a Union of the Colonies, is promising indeed. Never was there such a Sprit.” It is evident that there were many discussions in the taverns around Philadelphia among the delegates that showed the feelings of many had changed since 1774. Though there were still a large portion of the colonies that were not ready to give up reconciliation with Great Britain. This tug in pull between men like John Adams and men like John Dickenson (more on the side of reconciliation) is shown in two documents passed by the Congress in early July. The “Olive Branch Petition” and the “Declaration of the Causes and Necessity of Taking Up Arms” reflect the mixed views of the Congress and the colonies as a whole of —conciliation and confrontation. Together, they illustrate the ideological crossroads at which the colonies stood, torn between loyalty to the British Crown and the growing necessity of armed resistance.
The “Olive Branch Petition”, drafted primarily by John Dickinson of Pennsylvania and approved by the Continental Congress on July 5, 1775, was a final attempt by the colonies to avoid a full-scale war with Great Britain. Despite the ongoing military engagements at Lexington, Concord, and Bunker Hill, many colonial leaders still hoped for a peaceful resolution to the growing conflict. The petition expressed loyalty to King George III and implored him to intervene in the escalating tensions caused by his ministers and Parliament.
John Dickinson was the leader of the moderates of the Second Continental Congress. Dickinson has the distinction of serving in the Congress as a representative from Pennsylvania and then Deleware. Courtesy of the National Park Service.
The document was rooted in the belief that reconciliation was still possible. It portrayed the colonies as loyal subjects who had been forced into resistance by the oppressive acts of the British government. The petition requested the King to repeal the Coercive Acts and halt hostilities, suggesting that harmony could be restored without further bloodshed.
Key to understanding the “Olive Branch Petition” is the deep-seated colonial belief in the distinction between the King and Parliament. Many colonists viewed Parliament as the source of tyranny but retained faith in the monarch as a potential protector. This petition, therefore, was not revolutionary but reformist. It sought to open a dialogue rather than sever ties.
However, the petition was rejected outright by King George III, who had already declared the colonies in open rebellion in August 1775 (before the Olve Branch petition arrived in London). He refused to read the document and issued the Proclamation of Rebellion, affirming Britain’s intent to suppress the colonial uprising by force. Many believed that the blood shed at Bunker Hill (226 killed and 828 wounded) combined with the fighting on April 19th backed the King into a corner. How could he accept peace when British soldiers were killed by rebels, especially since by the time he received the petition all the colonies were under arms against him. The rejection marked a turning point: it signaled the end of any realistic hopes for a peaceful compromise and pushed more colonists toward the idea of independence.
In stark contrast, the “Declaration of the Causes and Necessity of Taking Up Arms”, approved on July 6, 1775, just one day after the “Olive Branch Petition”, presented a much more assertive stance. Drafted by a committee including Thomas Jefferson and John Dickinson, the document aimed to justify the colonies’ decision to resist British authority through armed force.
The Declaration opened with a powerful assertion of the colonists’ natural rights and their entitlement to resist tyranny. It traced the history of British oppression, citing the Intolerable Acts, the imposition of taxes without consent, the quartering of troops, and the use of military force to suppress civil liberties. Unlike the Olive Branch Petition, which appealed to the King’s mercy, this document framed the conflict as a necessary defense of liberty and justice.
Although it still professed allegiance to the Crown, the Declaration was far more militant in tone. It acknowledged the seriousness of taking up arms but asserted that the colonies had been left with no other choice. It stated:
“Our cause is just. Our union is perfect. Our internal resources are great, and, if necessary, foreign assistance is undoubtedly attainable.”
This language revealed a shift in colonial thinking—from grievances to justification, from negotiation to resistance. The document was an attempt to rally public support and unify the colonies behind a common cause, portraying the struggle not as a rebellion but as a righteous defense against despotism.
Courtesy of Special Collections, University of Delaware Library
The coexistence of these two documents reflects the political complexity and emotional turmoil of the time. The Continental Congress, representing a wide spectrum of colonial opinion, tried to navigate between diplomacy and defiance. The “Olive Branch Petition” sought to appeal to moderates and loyalists who feared war, while the Declaration of the Causes aimed to galvanize patriots and articulate a coherent justification for resistance.
This dual approach was not merely political hedging but a reflection of genuine uncertainty. Many colonists still considered themselves British and hoped to remain within the empire, albeit under reformed governance. At the same time, the continued military aggression from Britain made armed resistance increasingly inevitable.
Ultimately, the failure of the “Olive Branch Petition” and the intensification of British military efforts helped consolidate revolutionary sentiment. The rejection by King George III confirmed to many that reconciliation was no longer possible. Over the following months, radical voices like Thomas Paine’s in Common Sense would build upon the groundwork laid by the “Declaration of the Causes” and push for full independence, culminating in the Declaration of Independence in July 1776.
The “Olive Branch Petition” and the “Declaration of the Causes and Necessity of Taking Up Arms” encapsulate the American colonies’ transition from loyal subjects to revolutionaries. They demonstrate how, in the face of unyielding imperial power, a people once desperate to avoid conflict found themselves compelled to fight. These documents not only reflect the diplomatic and ideological struggles of the Revolutionary era but also serve as enduring symbols of the tension between peace and justice in times of crisis.
On July 3, 1775 George Washington formally took command of the Continental Army in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Appointed Commander-in-Chief by the Second Continental Congress on June 15, 1775, Washington arrived in Cambridge on July 3, 1775 and assumed command of a disorganized and poorly supplied force besieging British troops in Boston. His leadership would begin the transformation of colonial militias into a unified fighting force capable of challenging British military power.
Washington’s assumption of command occurred at a time when the American colonies were transitioning from protest to open rebellion. The battles of Lexington and Concord in April 1775 had already ignited armed conflict, and the Battle of Bunker Hill in June had demonstrated that colonial forces could stand up to British regulars, though at great cost. Washington understood the gravity of his new role. In a letter to the President of Congress, he wrote humbly, “I am truly sensible of the high Honor done me in this Appointment… I do not think myself equal to the Command I am honored with.” This characteristic modesty was paired with a strong sense of duty and resolve.
Washington assumes command at Cambridge, Courtesy Library of Congress
On July 3, Washington appeared before his troops on Cambridge Common, dressed in a blue coat with buff facings, signifying his Virginian roots. There is no official transcript of a speech he may have delivered that day, but contemporary accounts describe a solemn and determined atmosphere. One observer, Reverend William Emerson, noted in his diary, “General Washington… is a tall and noble-looking man, commanding the respect of all who see him.”
Washington immediately set to work imposing discipline, organizing supply chains, and creating a chain of command. Though former commander of the army, Major General Artemus Ward, worked hard on instilling discipline, he was not a man that instilled a lot of confidence. Washington was appalled by the state of the army, writing in frustration to Congress: “The Army… is in a very improper condition to carry on a vigorous War.” He introduced regular drills, uniform codes, and standardized procedures, striving to turn the disparate bands of militiamen into a functioning army. As historian David McCullough noted, “It was Washington’s presence alone that gave the army cohesion.”
Despite his military inexperience—Washington never commanded an army of this size—he brought a unifying vision and moral authority. His appointment was also politically astute, bridging the regional divide between New England and the southern colonies. A Virginian leading New England troops sent a clear message of unity in the face of British oppression.
Marker commemorating Washington on the Cambridge Common, photo by William Griffith
The Cambridge encampment remained Washington’s headquarters until March 1776, when he successfully forced the British evacuation of Boston by fortifying Dorchester Heights with cannons brought from Fort Ticonderoga. This early strategic victory, achieved without major bloodshed, was a major morale boost and affirmed Congress’s faith in their commander.
In retrospect, July 3, 1775, was the beginning of an enduring legacy of leadership and a love of Washington by his men and officers. Through discipline, vision, and personal integrity, he began shaping a ragtag collection of volunteers into the Continental Army, laying the groundwork for American independence.
Dedicated in 1881 and made of bronze, the statue of Colonel William Prescott stands over nine feet tall. Although the man who stood steadfast on the earthen parapet of Bunker Hill was not quite that tall. Yet, on June 17, 1775, the men of New England looked up to the approximately 50-year-old that day.
A National Park Service page on Colonel Prescott and Bunker Hill is titled, “A Glorious Immortality.”An account that was passed down about the Massachusetts militia officer vividly describes why he deserves that moniker.
“The breast work or redoubt was only constructed of such earth as the party had thrown up after the middle of the night and was not more than breast high to a man of medium height. Colonel Prescott being a very tall man, six feet and two or three inches in height, his head and shoulders and a considerable portion of his body must have been exposed during the whole of the engagement. He wore a three-cornered cocked hat and a ban-yan or calico coat. After one of his men was killed by cannon ball, Prescott, perceiving that this had made some of the soldiers sick at heart, mounted tile para-pet and walked leisurely around it, cheering his soldiers by approbation and humor. His clothing was repeatedly spattered with the blood and the brains of the killed and wounded.”
Leadership. Example. Personal bravery. He was also one of the last to leave the earthwork as the British captured it.
He now stands, in bronze, watching over the scene where he proved he was a match for the moment.
After years of political unrest between Great Britain and her North American colonies, tension finally boiled over into armed conflict on April 19, 1775, at Lexington and Concord. The British expedition to capture arms and munitions held by the colonists at Concord disintegrated into a panic-ridden retreat to Boston as local militias struck the column as it moved through the Massachusetts countryside. As often happens in war, seeds planted during a battle often sow the next.
Rather than enter march through Boston Neck British officers diverted to Cambridge and proceeded to the Charlestown Peninsula. Bordered by the Charles and Mystic Rivers, the peninsula jutted out into Boston Harbor northeast of the city. As darkness settled in, exhausted British soldiers made their way onto 110-foot high Bunker Hill. This eminence, commanded Charlestown Neck, a narrow sliver of land connecting to the mainland, along with the surrounding landscape.
That night, Lt. Gen. Thomas Gage, the British Commander-in-Chief met with Vice Admiral Samuel Graves, head of the North Atlantic Squadron. Among other suggestions, Graves urged Gage to burn Charlestown and occupy Bunker Hill. Graves likely knew that his ships in the harbor could not elevate their artillery to reach the high ground. Additionally, Bunker Hill was out of range of the Copp’s Hill Battery located in the city’s North End.
Thomas Gage
Gage recognized the long-simmering pot would eventually boil over with the colonists. “If you think ten thousand men sufficient, send twenty; if one million thought enough, give two; you save both blood and treasure in the end,” he wrote the previous fall to his superiors in London. Now, seemingly distant from the tactical situation on the ground, the survivor of the Monogahela rejected Graves’ proposal, claiming “the weakness of the army.” One must wonder if this was a decision Gage came to privately regret.
The arrival of reinforcements at the end of May, along with Maj. Gens. John Burgoyne, Henry Clinton, and William Howe may have buoyed Gage’s spirits. He soon began making plans to break out of Boston. In consultation with his subordinates, Gage formulated a plan to strike first across Boston Neck to capture Dorchester Heights, which commanded the southern end of the city. A second attack would capture Charlestown then move the three miles to Cambridge to hopefully destroy the Massachusetts army. The offensive was slated to take place on June 18.
Unfortunately, Boston leaked like a sieve and Gage failed to maintain what is known today as operational security. His plans were soon known in Cambridge where the Massachusetts Committee of Safety authorized their own effort to occupy Bunker Hill ahead of the British. On the night of June 16, colonial units led by Col. William Prescott marched out of Cambridge toward Charlestown. Rather than follow his orders, Prescott moved to the 60 foot high Breed’s Hill, located slightly to the southeast of Bunker Hill. Prescott’s decision remains one of the great mysteries surrounding the battle. His men began construction of a redoubt.
Another question surrounding the engagement rests with Henry Clinton. Sometime on the evening of June 16, Clinton wrote he conducted a reconnaissance and claimed he witnessed Provincial activity. He did not, however, explain where he went nor reported the type of actions he saw. Additionally, visibility would be difficult in the growing dusk. Clinton further stated he reported his findings to Gage and Howe but Gage elected to wait for daylight.
Sunrise revealed Prescott’s men atop Breed’s Hill, hard at work on the redoubt, which threatened the northern end of the city. Gage and his officers quickly convened at his headquarters at the Province House. Howe, the senior officer, would be in command. Some thought was given to sail up the Mystic to land on Charlestown Neck well in the rear of the redoubt. This plan was quickly nixed for fear the force could be isolated and cut off by reinforcements from Cambridge and militia on Breed’s Hill. It was eventually decided Howe would land below and out of range of the redoubt. Orders soon went out for the mustering of the “ten oldest companies” the flank and grenadiers, each – along with several regiments to prepare for the operation.
Each British regiment consisted of ten companies, eight line, with two flank and grenadier companies. The flank companies consisted of men who were often the shortest and fastest, who could operate in open order tactics, moving quickly to engage and skirmish with the enemy. The grenadiers, identified by their bear skin hats, were often the tallest men in the regiment and were used as the shock troops during an attack. By the time of the American Revolution, they were no longer carrying hand grenades but the name remained. Oftentimes these companies were separated from their regiments and placed in their own battalions.
Howe disembarked from Long Wharf, going over himself in the second wave, that afternoon. The British landed at Moulton’s Hill, near the modern Navy Yard. Stepping ashore, Howe observed his objective. “On first view it was clearly seen that the rebels were in forced and strongly entrenched upon their right in the Redoubt that had been seen from the town at daybreak,” he reported. “Their left and center were covered by a breastwork which reached from the Redoubt to the Mystick, the space from the Redoubt to that river being about 380 yards, and the whole extent they occupied about 600 yards”. The extent of the defenses compelled Howe to call for reinforcements.
Toward the middle of the day, the British launched their assault. Although Howe’s second in command, Brig. Gen. Robert Pigot was present and directed the left of the line, Howe also decided to take a stronger role and led the center himself on foot. Howe directed his light infantry to advance along the beach of the Mystic, likely with the hope in mind of getting behind the redoubt. This attack was met and repulsed by New Hampshire militia under Col. John Stark. So too were Howe’s and Pigot’s attacks. Watching his men come stumbling back after the failed attempt prompted Howe to later write “it was a moment I had not felt before.”
In the second assault, Howe attempted to further squeeze off the redoubt, pulling the light infantry from the beach to augment his center. At the same time, Pigot sent the 1st Marine Battalion and the 47th Regiment of Foot to get between Charlestown and the redoubt. During the assault, which also failed, the light infantry fired into the rear of the grenadiers, inflicting casualties.
Once again, the British lurched forward, determined to overwhelm the redoubt by a sheer force of numbers. This time, luck was with them as the militia were running out of ammunition. Francis, Lord Rawdon, an officer in the 5th Regiment of Foot who would go on to distinguish himself in the Southern Campaigns recalled “our men grew impatient, and all crying Push on, Push on, advanced with infinite spirit to attack the work with their small arms. As soon as the rebels perceived this, they rose up and poured in so heavy a fire upon us that the oldest officers say they never saw a sharper action. They kept up this fire until we were within ten yards of them…there are few instances of regular troops defending a redoubt till the enemy were in the very ditch of it.”
The British infantry swarmed into Prescott’s redoubt. Somewhere in the maelstrom was British lieutenant and adjutant of the 1st Marines, John Waller. “Nothing could be more shocking than the carnage that followed the storming of this work,” he wrote “We tumbled over the dead to get at the living who were crowding out of the gorge of the redoubt…’twas streaming with blood and strewed with the dead and dying men, the soldiers stabbing some and dashing out the brains of the others.” The colonials managed to retreat across Charlestown Neck, the British too exhausted to give chase.
Bunker Hill became the first of many pyrrhic victories for the British over the course of the American Revolution. Still, there were a number of shortcomings. Howe, rather than oversee the attacks from Moulton’s Hill, led the assaults himself. Perhaps he needed to inspire his men or he recognized the importance of the situation but he reverted to being a battalion commander. One must wonder whether the initial attacks could have been more effective had he delegated authority and used more of a guiding hand. Howe’s experience that day may have influenced him for the remainder of the war. Rather than rely on frontal assaults, he utilized flanking maneuvers such as those at Long Island and Brandywine. The friendly fire casualties can be attributed to inexperience amongst the ranks. Gage, along with his subordinates also share, the blame for not maintaining operational security and letting their plans slip out of Boston. Additionally, Gage failed to heed the advice of Graves and secure Charlestown Peninsula in April when he had the opportunity. The result nearly two months to the day resulted in over 1,000 British soldiers killed and wounded, a high cost of blood and treasure, in a war that would lead to the independence of the United States.
Shortly after 11 p.m. on the night of June 16, Colonel (although the monument calls him general) William Prescott led approximately 1,200 Massachusetts soldiers toward the Charlestown Peninsula from Cambridge Common. These men would spend the night fortifying Breed’s Hill before spending the majority of the next day defending the earthen redoubt from successive British attacks. Although forced to evacuate due to low ammunition and the British breaching the redoubt, the defeat had a positive impact on the morale of the “Grand Army” as the New England militia soon-to-be-Continental Army.
On Tuesday, the 250th anniversary of the Battle of Bunker Hill, fought on Breed’s Hill on Charlestown Peninsula, will be remembered. On June 17, 1775, the last major engagement before George Washington arrived in Massachusetts to take command was fought between militia under Colonel William Prescott and British forces under General William Howe. Although a defeat for the patriots, resulting in the death of Dr. Joseph Warren, the victory was a pyrrhic one for the British.
Join Emerging Revolutionary War historians as they discuss the engagement, the personas, and the ramifications of the Battle of Bunker Hill. Also, stay tuned until the end for an announcement as well.
So, two days before the 250th, grab your favorite beverage and tune into our Facebook page at 7 p.m. EDT and have your questions ready. If you are unable to attend the live on Sunday evening, don’t fret, the video will be posted to YouTube by the anniversary and to our podcast channel as soon as possible
The American Revolution on the frontier produced its share of stories and legends. In many ways, the heroes in those tales were more relatable than the men who led the war east of the Appalachians. They were not land-owning generals like George Washington, political organizers like Sam Adams, world-renowned scientists like Benjamin Franklin, inspiring speakers like Patrick Henry, or political philosophers like Thomas Jefferson. Instead, they were farmers turned amateur soldiers, trappers and hunters turned scouts, family men turned avenging marauders. In at least one case, even a quasi-fugitive from the law could become a symbol of protection and security.
By the 19th century, names like Daniel Boone, Simon Kenton, Ebenezer Zane, Lewis Wetzel, Issac Shelby, and Samuel Brady were known to every schoolboy west of the Appalachians. Some of their reputations faded with time as the frontier moved west onto the Great Plains and into the Rocky Mountains. Still, the stories remained, mostly to sit in in aging volumes on a library bookshelf, but occasionally to be dusted off for works of historical fiction. Like most stories, they occasionally morphed and evolved over time in the retelling. Sometimes they hold up quite well on close examination and can be verified.
Sometimes a little more skepticism may be in order. Samuel Brady’s leap over a river is one such story. There are two versions of the story. In one he leaped to the opposite side of a rocky Cuyahoga River chasm. In the other, he leaped entirely across a deep ravine through which Slippery Rock Creek ran.
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.*
Emerging Revolutionary War Era 