Category: Continental Leadership

“our cause is just…” The Olive Branch and Declaration of Causes Petitions

On By Rob OrrisonIn 1775, America 250, Battlefields & Historic Places, Continental Congress, Continental LeadershipLeave a comment
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.

“Commanding the respect of all who see him” George Washington Takes Command in Cambridge, MA – July 3, 1775

On By Rob OrrisonIn 1775, America 250, Armies, Battlefields & Historic Places, Common Soldier, Continental Leadership, Lexington and Concord, Militia (Patriot) Leadership, Northern Theater, Personalities, UncategorizedLeave a comment

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.

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.

John Adams and the Rubicon of Lexington/Concord

On By Chris MackowskiIn 1775, Continental Congress, Continental Leadership, Lexington and ConcordLeave a comment

“[T]he Battle of Lexington on the 19th of April, changed the Instruments of Warfare from the Penn to the Sword,” John Adams wrote years after the event. He was well acquainted with the pen as an instrument of warfare. By the spring of 1775, he was twelve letters into a thirteen-letter volley that would become known as the “Novanglus letters”—a series that appeared in the Boston Gazette starting January 23.[1]

The final of those letters appeared, by happenstance, on April 19—the same day as the battles of Lexington and Concord. The thirteenth letter of the series never appeared because of the suspension of printing in Massachusetts following the battle.[2]

Adams was, at the time of the battle, preparing to return to Philadelphia for the next session of the Continental Congress. Before his departure, however, he resolved to ride out to the battlefield so he could see with his own eyes the results of the bloodshed that had occurred. He felt it would make him a more reliable witness when he reported on the event to Congress.

On April 22, Adams rode by horseback from his home in Quincy to Cambridge, where the local militia had concentrated. There, Adams met with military leaders, generals Artemis Ward, William Heath, and Joseph Warren. He also informally inspected the troops, “the New England Army,” as he characterized them.[3]

“There was great Confusion and much distress,” Adams recounted: “Artillery, Arms, Cloathing were wanting and a sufficient Supply of Provisions not easily obtained. Neither the officers nor Men however wanted Spirits or Resolution.”

But how long would such spirit and resolve last, Adams wondered? This questions would inform his strategy when he eventually arrived in Philadelphia.

From Cambridge, Adams rode west toward “Lexington and along the Scene of Action for many miles. . . .” Rubble from the battle still laid strewn along the road from Concord to Lexington and from Lexington back into Boston—a route Adams traced in reverse. He did not write down details of what he saw, but they made a deep impression, as would soon become evident in his attitudes about independence.

To help make sense of what he saw, he “enquired of the Inhabitants” about “the Circumstances” of the battle. “These were not calculated to diminish my Ardour in the Cause,” he admitted. “They on the Contrary convinced me that the Die was cast, the Rubicon passed, and as Lord Mansfield expressed it in Parliament, if We did not defend ourselves they would kill Us.”

Just after his visit to the battlefield, illness debilitated Adams, which delayed his departure for Congress. He did manage to catch up to his fellow delegates en route. Along the way, they saw first-hand how the events at Lexingon and Concord had galvanized public opinion, although it would yet be some months before Congress itself followed public opinion.

But for Adams, events had indeed crossed the Rubicon. He began his unceasing, inexorable push toward independence.

Yet it was a two-pronged approach for Adams, who not only operated on that larger existential level but also on a more immediate, pragmatic one. After all, the sword, not the pen, was now the main weapon. He began advocating for measures that would transform “the New England Army” into a Continental one. His nomination of George Washington to lead the fledgling force, for example, was a masterful stroke to diversify the army and, thus, ensure more colonies had skin in the game.

Congress’s slow pace toward independence would frustrate Adams almost to no end over the fifteen months that would follow. However, the bloodshed of Lexington and Concord made an impression on Adams that would drive him onward, inexorably, toward July 1776 and beyond.

[1] For more on the exchange between Adams and Daniel “Massachusettensis” Leonoard, see https://www.masshist.org/publications/adams-papers/view?&id=PJA02dg5.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Quote from Adams come from John Adams autobiography, part 1, “John Adams,” through 1776, sheet 18 of 53 [electronic edition]. Adams Family Papers: An Electronic Archive. Massachusetts Historical Society. http://www.masshist.org/digitaladams/

“The Robin Hood of the American Revolution” Walt Disney’s The Swamp Fox

On By Phill GreenwaltIn Common Soldier, Continental Leadership, Emerging Revolutionary War, Memory, Militia (Patriot) Leadership, Personalities, Revolutionary War, Southern Theater2 Comments

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Tom Elmore. Brief bio is at the bottom of the post.

When Walt Disney’s Disneyland anthology series, featuring shows inspired by the themes of the park’s sections, debuted in 1954 it ended the television season at #6 in the Nielsen television ratings and improved to #4 the next season. Much of that success was due to the Davey Crocket episodes, one of the first major television phenomena.[1]

But the series dropped to #14 in the third season and was out of the top twenty in the fourth and fifth seasons. The American Broadcasting Company (ABC) which carried the program, renamed Walt Disney Presents, pressured Disney to come up with another Crockett and more westerns which made up most of the top 20.[2]

Disney later complained that “I found myself in a straightjacket. I no longer had the freedom of action…They kept insisting that I do more and more westerns and my show became loaded…with every western myth.” Consequently, relations between Disney and ABC became strained.[3]

Disney turned to one of his passions, American history, to create a series based on the partisan leader, General Francis Marion, “the Swamp Fox,” who harassed British troops in South Carolina during the American Revolution.[4]

Continue reading ““The Robin Hood of the American Revolution” Walt Disney’s The Swamp Fox” →

“never heard anything more infamously insolent” Loyalist and British response to Patrick Henry’s famous speech

On By Rob OrrisonIn 1775, Battlefields & Historic Places, Continental Leadership, Lexington and Concord, Loyalist, Personalities, Politics, PreservationLeave a comment

Patrick Henry’s famous speech, delivered on March 23, 1775, before the Virginia Convention at St. John’s Church in Richmond, has become one of the most iconic calls to action in American history. His fiery declaration—“Give me liberty, or give me death!”—was a passionate plea for resistance against British tyranny and a rallying cry for colonial unity in the face of increasing oppression. While Patrick Henry’s speech electrified the American colonies and inspired many to embrace the revolutionary cause, Great Britain’s response to such sentiments, and to the broader colonial rebellion, was both dismissive and aggressive. The British government’s approach to colonial dissent during this period sheds light on their underestimation of the revolutionary movement and the rigidity of their imperial policies.

At the time of Henry’s speech, tensions between Great Britain and its American colonies had been escalating for over a decade. Following the French and Indian War (1754–1763), Britain sought to tighten its control over its colonies and recover war debts by imposing taxes such as the Stamp Act (1765) and the Townshend Acts (1767). These measures were deeply unpopular among colonists, who argued that taxation without representation was a violation of their rights. The colonies’ resistance to British authority—through boycotts, protests, and the formation of groups like the Sons of Liberty—was met with increasing hostility from Britain. By 1775, the situation had deteriorated to the brink of open conflict.

From the British perspective, Patrick Henry’s speech, and similar revolutionary rhetoric, would have been seen as treasonous and inflammatory. The British government viewed the colonies not as equal partners in the empire but as subordinate territories meant to serve the interests of the Crown. Henry’s call to arms was a direct challenge to this hierarchical structure, and British officials were likely to dismiss it as the rantings of a radical minority. However, the speech also highlighted the growing unity and resolve among the colonists, which British leaders largely failed to grasp. This underestimation of colonial sentiment was one of the key reasons why Britain’s response to the American Revolution was ultimately ineffective. Loyalist James Parker wrote ““You never heard anything more infamously insolent than P. Henry’s speech: he called the K—— a Tyrant, a fool, a puppet, and a tool to the ministry,”

The British response to colonial dissent, including the sentiments expressed in Henry’s speech, was characterized by a combination of punitive measures and military force. In the years leading up to the speech, Britain had already implemented harsh policies, such as the Coercive Acts (1774), known in the colonies as the Intolerable Acts. These laws were designed to punish Massachusetts for the Boston Tea Party and to reassert British authority over the colonies. Instead of quelling dissent, these measures only served to galvanize colonial resistance and unify the colonies against British rule.

St. John’s Church, ca 1865 – courtesy Library of Congress

After Henry’s speech, Britain’s strategy remained focused on suppressing the rebellion through force rather than addressing the colonies’ grievances. By April 1775, just weeks after Henry’s address, British troops marched to Lexington and Concord to seize colonial military supplies, leading to the first battles of the Revolutionary War. This military action demonstrated Britain’s refusal to engage in meaningful dialogue with the colonies and its commitment to maintaining control through coercion. Though considered by many as a spark of revolution, Henry’s motion and speech did not reach Great Britain until after the fighting broke out at Lexington and Concord. Though combined, hearing Virginia’s martial push with rebellion in New England proved this was not a localized issue.

One of the reasons Britain failed to adequately respond to the ideological challenge posed by Henry’s speech was its inability to understand the depth of colonial dissatisfaction. British officials often dismissed colonial leaders as self-interested agitators and underestimated the widespread support for revolutionary ideas. This miscalculation led to a reliance on military solutions, which further alienated the colonies and made reconciliation increasingly unlikely.

In addition to military measures, Britain attempted to divide the colonies and weaken their resolve. Propaganda campaigns and offers of pardons were used to sway public opinion and encourage loyalty to the Crown. However, these efforts were largely unsuccessful, as revolutionary leaders like Patrick Henry were able to inspire unity and resilience among the colonists.

Ultimately, Britain’s response to the sentiments expressed in Patrick Henry’s “Give me liberty, or give me death” speech reflected a broader pattern of misjudgment and inflexibility. By dismissing the legitimate grievances of the colonies and relying on punitive measures and military force, Britain failed to address the underlying causes of the American Revolution. Henry’s speech symbolized the growing determination of the American colonies to fight for their independence, and Britain’s inability to adapt to this reality ensured that conflict was inevitable. In the end, Henry’s passionate plea for liberty became a rallying cry for a new nation, while Britain’s response marked the beginning of its eventual loss of the American colonies.

The Wallace House at 250: New Research and Rehabilitation on Washington’s WinterHeadquarters

On By erwguestIn Battlefields & Historic Places, Continental Leadership, Emerging Revolutionary War, Northern Theater, Personalities, Revolutionary WarLeave a comment

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Paul F. Soltis

250 years ago in 1775 John Wallace of Philadelphia was preparing to move. Born in Scotland in 1718, John was the youngest son of the minister of the Church of Scotland at Drumelizer in the Scottish Lowlands south of Glasgow and Edinburgh. While his eldest brother William would take over the ministry in the Kirk following their father’s death, John emigrated from Scotland to the colonies of British North America. Like many Scottish emigrants, Mr. Wallace entered the merchant trade, first in Newport, Rhode Island and eventually in Philadelphia where he met and married Mary Maddox of an established Philadelphia family.

At the opening of the Revolutionary War in 1775, John Wallace purchased 95 acres on the Raritan River in Somerset County, New Jersey from the Rev. Jacob Rutsen Hardenbergh, minister to the Dutch Reformed Churches of the upper Raritan River Valley. At this country estate he called “Hope Farm” Mr. Wallace built the largest home constructed in New Jersey during the Revolutionary War, perhaps “hoping” to escape the revolutionary ferment of Philadelphia. Midway between the British garrison at New York and the Continental Congress in Philadelphia, John Wallace instead found himself at the Crossroads of the American Revolution.

In the fall of 1778, the Continental Army arrived to this region of Somerset County where the Middle Brook flows into the Raritan River for the Middlebrook Cantonment of 1778-79. Nathanael Greene, Quartermaster General of the Continental Army, wrote on October 18, “Middle Brook is situate in a plentyful Country, naturally strong and difficult of access and surrounded with a great plenty of Wood. Great security will also be given to this Camp by the militia of the Country.” Col. Sidney Berry, a deputy quartermaster to Gen. Nathanael Greene, arranged with Mr. Wallace for use of the Wallace House at Hope Farm, a few miles west of the village of Middlebrook, as headquarters for George Washington.

Continue reading “The Wallace House at 250: New Research and Rehabilitation on Washington’s WinterHeadquarters” →

Letter From the Front: December 5, 1775

On By erwpostIn 1775, Continental Leadership, Northern TheaterLeave a comment


Before Quebec

5th December 1775

May it please your Excellency [General Washington]

My last of the 20th ultimo from Point aux Trembles, advising of my retiring from before Quebec, make no Doubt your Excellency has received. I continued at Point aux Trembles until the 3rd Instant, when to my great Joy General Montgomery joined us with Artillery and about 300 Men. Yesterday we arrived here, and are making all possible Preparation to attack the City, which has a wretched motley Garrison of disaffected Seamen, Marines & Inhabitants, the Walls in a ruinous Situation, & cannot hold out long. Inclosed is a Return of my Detachment amounting to 675 Men, for whom, I have received Cloathing of General Montgomery. I hope there will soon be Provision made for paying the Soldiers Arrearages, as many of them have Families, who are in Want. A continual Hurry has prevented my sending a Continuation of my Journal. I am with very great Respect Your Excellency’s Most obedient humble servant

Benedict Arnold

“To George Washington from Colonel Benedict Arnold, 5 December 1775,” Founders Online, National Archives, https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/03-02-02-0445. [Original source: The Papers of George Washington, Revolutionary War Series, vol. 2, 16 September 1775 – 31 December 1775, ed. Philander D. Chase. Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1987, p. 495.]