Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes the contribution of Eric Olsen, Park Ranger/Historian at Morristown National Historical Park
Military history tends to be a lot of “so and so’s” brigade advanced on the left wing, while “what’s his face’s” division withdrew.” Lots of movements of large faceless masses of soldiers. Personally, I prefer the little personal stories of individuals in the face of battle. Here is one such story from the battle of Monmouth in June 1778.
Sir Henry Clinton
I recently ran across this little tidbit in a July 7, 1778, letter written by the Adjutant General of the Hessian forces in America, Major Carl Leopold Baumeister. He described an incident during the battle of Monmouth involving the British commander in chief, Sir Henry Clinton. “General Clinton in the thickest fire, was saved by one of his adjutants, Captain Sutherland, when a rebel colonel aimed at him, but missed. Captain Sutherland’s horse was wounded. Another adjutant, Lloyd, stabbed the colonel.”
The story sounded vaguely familiar. Then I recalled something I’d read written by a British officer named Thomas Anbury. He was a prisoner of war, part of Burgoyne’s captured “Convention Army.” Anbury and the other prisoners were being held near Charlottesville, Virginia. At a place called Jones’s Plantation, Anbury related the following story on May 12, 1779,
“A very singular circumstance took place in that battle [Monmouth], which fully marks the coolness and deliberation, though in the heat of action, of Sir Henry Clinton: As he was reconnoitering, with two of his Aide de Camps, at the short turning of two roads, they met with an American officer, exceedingly well mounted upon a black horse, who, upon discerning them, made a stop, and looked as if he wished to advance to speak to them, when one of Sir Henry Clinton’s Aid de Camps fired a pistol at him, and he instantly rode off. Sir Henry was much displeased at his Aide de Camp, and censured him for being so hasty, adding, he was confident that the man wished to speak to him, and perhaps, might have given intelligence that would have been very essential, remarking, that when he was in Germany last war, and reconnoitering with Prince Ferdinand, a man rode up in a familiar manner, and gave such intelligence as decided the fate of the day.”
To read more about the Battle of Monmouth, check out “A Handsome Flogging, the Battle of Monmouth, June 28, 1778 by William Griffith, part of the Emerging Revolutionary War Series.
On December 16, 1773, a protest orchestrated by the Sons of Liberty in Boston, Massachusetts turned words into action. Upset over recently passed legislation and the belief that “no taxation without representation” 116 people dumped 342 chests of tea owned by the British East India Company into Boston Harbor. The event was one of the milestones on the way to the American Revolution and American independence. As the Boston Tea Party, as it is known to history, closes in on its 250th anniversary, Emerging Revolutionary War will invite Evan O’Brien, the creative director for the Boston Tea Party Ships and Museum this Sunday, June 25, evening for the next “Rev War Revelry.”
We hope you can join us at 7 p.m. EDT on Emerging Revolutionary War’s Facebook page for a discussion of the history behind and on December 16, 1773 and the efforts to commemorate and interpret that time frame. If you are contemplating venturing up to Boston in December to be in the city for the 250th anniversary of this event, you will not want to miss this discussion, as Evan will share some of what the museum has been planning to commemorate when Boston Harbor became a “tea-pot.”
On September 14, 1814, United States forces defending Fort McHenry in Baltimore repelled the British attempt to capture the city. Flying defiantly over the brick parapets was a 30 x 42 -foot the following day, clearly seen by the British and one captive American, Francis Scott Key. Over 100 years later the poem Key began writing on September 15 became the national anthem of the United States of America. But, what about the flag that the military commander of Fort McHenry, Major George Armistead had made? Well, this iconic flag became a part of the Armistead family for almost the next century as well.
Now, historian Tom McMillan, who has written on another member of the Armistead family, returns with his latest publication, Our Flag Was Still There: The Star-Spangled Banner that Survived the British and 200 Years–and the Armistead Family Who Saved It. This fascinating read, tracing the flag and its intertwined connection with the Armistead family, will be the subject of this week’s “Rev War Revelry.” McMillan gave a bit of a teaser to entice you to listen in on Emerging Revolutionary War’s Facebook page Sunday at 7 p.m. EDT.
“OUR FLAG WAS STILL THERE details the improbable two-hundred-year journey of the original Star-Spangled Banner — from Fort McHenry in 1814, when Francis Scott Key saw it, to the Smithsonian in the 21st century – thanks to three generations of an enduring military family, the Armistead’s, who defended, kept, hid, and ultimately donated the most famous flag in American history.”
We hope you grab your favorite beverage and tune in. The book is now available for purchase and Tom will have details on how to attain a copy!
Thomas Paine wrote the line used as the title for this post in his pamphlet titled “American Crisis” in 1776. Most people recognize the opening lines that Paine penned in that same essay.
“These are the times that try men’s souls: The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of their country; but he that stands it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman.”
However, on this Memorial Day, while reading through his essay, I was struck by the line I used for the title. Furthermore, by the far too numerous men who served in the militia and Continental service that lay in unknown or unmarked graves throughout the eastern United States. To them that gave the ultimate sacrifice in pursuit of the principles they held most dear, we remember on this day. To them and the thousands that came after and paid with their lives so others can have “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” we also remember today on this Memorial Day.
One of the main objectives of Emerging Revolutionary War is to visit the sites attributed to the American Revolutionary War era and to provoke interest and expand learning on the people, places, and history. That includes remembering those that lay in these unmarked graves “known only to God.”
Tell me I am not the only one that randomly goes on a car ride to a random town in their home state to just “see what is there?”
Regardless, that is what I decided to do on a sunny late April Sunday afternoon. I ended up in Rockville, Maryland. The town astride I-270 today was also on a major thoroughfare during both the 18th and 19th centuries that brought armies from the area, like General Edward Braddock’s in 1755 or General Jubal Early’s in 1864.
However, a different historical sign attracted my attention on this excursion.
I read the title and the first line, Richard Montgomery…Born in Ireland. Served..” Which was all I could read as I slowly drove by, since it is near the court house and county government buildings. Even though it was a Sunday still not wanting to speed through. So…Naturally, I pulled over, as evidenced by the vehicle you see in the background!
I knew Montgomery, as the sign reads, died at the Battle of Quebec in a futile attempt to take the city for the American cause. He was the first general–Continental–to die in the cause of American independence.
On September 6, 1776 Thomas Sprigg Wootton, who hailed from Rockville, introduced legislation in the Maryland Constitutional Convention to separate the Frederick County into three. The upper or most western half, to become Washington County, named in honor of George Washington and the lower half, or most eastern, to be named Montgomery, in honor of Richard Montgomery. The remaining middle portion would retain the name Frederick. This may be the first recorded instance in the rebellious British colonies of names of counties, towns, or cities that did not refer to something in British history or famous persons. Another act of defiance at the beginning of the American Revolution!
With a random Sunday excursion one never knows what one will find. History is all around us, beckoning to be explored.
This Sunday, join Emerging Revolutionary War as we explore the prelude to Fort McHenry and the actions in Maryland and Washington D.C. in the summer of 1814. Joining Emerging Revolutionary War will be the American Battlefield Trust’s Senior Education Manager, Dan Davis.
This historian happy hour will discuss the first part of the campaign that eventually led to the climactic Battle of Baltimore, which included both the unsuccessful British attempts at Fort McHenry and North Point. Before that success for American arms, the United States suffered through the defeat at Bladensburg and the capture of the nation’s capital.
We hope you can join us on our Facebook page, on Sunday, April 30th at 7 p.m. EDT .
This conference will focus on the military, political, social and material culture history of the western theater of the American Revolutionary war, featuring scholars from across the U.S. and from Spain.
Location: The Sheraton Westport Plaza Hotel, St. Louis County, Missouri
Speakers and Topics:
Larry L. Nelson—”George Rogers Clark, the Illinois Campaign, and American Ambitions in the West”
Robert M. Owens – “Jean Baptiste Ducoigne, the Kaskaskias, and Pragmatic Patriotism in the Revolutionary Era”
José Manuel Guerro Acosta – “Spain and the Support for the American Revolution”
Friederike Baer – “’O, how the Mississippi is costing us many a good man!’: German Soldiers in West Florida, 1779-1781”
Frances Kolb Turnbell – “Indian Politics and the American Politics in the Lower Mississippi Valley”
Stephen L. Kling, Jr. – “An Opportunity to be Seized: The British Grand Plan to Conquer the Entire Mississippi River Valley”
Alexander S. Burns – “The Worst Looking Soldiers and the Drunkest Men to Ever Carry a Musket?: The 8th Regiment and the War in the West”
Kristine L. Sjostrom – “Valentía y Visión: Lt. Governor Fernando de Leyba and the Defense of St. Louis”
Kimberly Alexander – “O What Can These Things Tell Us: Material Culture at Revolutionary War St. Louis”
Jim Piecuch – “Fighting from Horseback: A Comparison of Revolutionary War Cavalry in the Eastern and Western Theaters”
Paul Douglas Lockhart – “For Want of a Good Musket and a Sharp Knife: Weaponry and Wilderness Warfare”
Evening Events: A cocktail reception will be held on Friday evening at 6:00pm at the Sheraton Westport Plaza Ballroom. A private party on Saturday evening at 6:30pm at the St. Charles County Heritage Museum will include a private tour of The American Revolutionary War in the West museum exhibit.
Registration: Conference registration cost including evening events: $75.00. Registration can be made through the St. Charles County Historical Society by 1) mailing a check to The St. Charles County Historical Society, 101 S. Main St., St. Charles, MO 63301, Attn: Joan Koechig; 2) credit card or PayPal by calling at (636) 946-9828 MWF, 10am-3pm; or 3) online at scchs.org. Registrations are limited and will be filled on a first come, first served basis. Questions, call Melissa at: (314)-561-5077. NOTE, online registration will be available starting April 19, 2023.
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Christopher of The British-American Historian blog.
Almost two years after debating a joint French-American assailment of Lord Cornwallis’ precarious position in Yorktown, Virginia over Washington’s grand plan to recapture New York long after being swept from the city and its environs as independence was officially declared in 1776, the implacable Washington prepared to reenter New York in triumph.
Eight years after making New York the center of the British war effort in the American Revolution, the massive garrison was greatly reduced and preparing for its final retirement from the new nation. The new commander in chief of North America, Sir Guy Carleton, arrived in New York on May 5, 1782[1] to relieve Sir Henry Clinton. Carleton won accolades for holding Quebec City when the Continental Army struck during a late night blizzard, an accomplishment that was all the more vaunted now that the British were losing territory that did not include Canada. Carleton lost no time in notifying Washington of his arrival in an affable letter sent on May 7th, 1782 in which Carleton wrote “if the like pacific disposition should prevail in this country, both my inclination and duty will lead me to meet it with the most zealous concurrence”[2].
A notable disruption in the growing amity was the unresolved Asgill Affair. Exasperated with wanton assailments of loyalists in New Jersey, a prominent rebel militia commander named Joshua Huddy was plucked from the provost in New York by an American member of the Associated Loyalists[3]. The Associated Loyalists were presided over by William Franklin, the loyalist son of Benjamin who had endured arduous captivity before being exchanged[4]. In response to the wanton execution of Joshua Huddy, Washington ordered a British officer to await reprise. Charles Asgill was selected, but pleas from the French along with Washington’s honorable disposition prevailed and the captain was spared[5].
The city and Long Island were swarming with thousands of loyal “Refugees” who had fled from every rebellious colony to seek the king’s protection. Ranging from itinerant tenant farmers to some of the largest landlords in America such as Beverly Robinson and Frederick Philipse, Carleton’s task of evacuating the troops could not be fulfilled until such persons were safely resettled in the empire. While many of the men joined provincial regiments that saw combat in the south (playing a pivotal role defending Savannah and being routed at Kings Mountain) and performed prodigious woodcutting on Lloyd Neck for the insatiable demand for firewood[6], flocks of women and children crowded the city. A subset of the refugees were former slaves who had flocked to the British cause for the promise of freedom under Dunmore’s Proclamation and the Philipsburg Proclamation, a promise Washington would vigorously contest in negotiations.
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Werther Young.
I’m Too Sexy for My…Bavarian Fly
By Werther Young
Of all of the unique things that have managed to make it to the internet, a concise history of colonial men’s pants flies is surprisingly not one of them.
Our story begins in the Renaissance in, where else, France. King Henry III of France eschewed the old-fashioned dress and hose and embraced a new fashion, culottes, now known as “knee breeches.”
Henry III in his dress and hose
Henry III in his tony new culottes.
The fly of Henry’s pants was a simple affair, a rectangular panel sewn to the left side with buttonholes that buttoned over the right. This simple and practical design became known as the “French fly” and became almost universal in Western Europe over the next 60 years.
Ann Bonny the pirate, in French fly trousers, ca. 1721.
Over time, Ann Bonny’s “long” French fly was perfected into the “short” French fly. Anne’s fly extends from the inseam to the waistband. By merely sewing a few inches of the front seam together, the fly can be made shorter, removing a buttonhole and button or two.
These fly designs apparently did not reach into Eastern Europe, where presumably leather pants were as expensive as wool ones but lasted much longer, because they were never washed. Translating the French Fly into leather posed some problems, and so these leather pants had a different fly, essentially a hole in the center front with a panel buttoned over it that flipped or dropped up and down as necessary. This design caught on in the Alpine areas of central Europe, and especially in Bavaria under the label of “Lederhosen,” which is German for “leather pants.”
“Short” French Fly Breeches, ca. 1750.
The Bavarian fly migrated further north, as in the Deutsches Museum in Berlin can be found a pair of enlisted trousers from the mid-1700s, with a half drop front fly; that is, it opens only the right side. This is essentially a cheaper fly, because it needs only one button to close, and does the same thing.
By the middle 1700s, the French fly had been around for over 150 years, and someone in France started a different fashion (and outdoing the Huns) by putting the two -opening Bavarian fly on culottes, thus making the culottes “a la Bavarois,” French for “like the Bavarians.” This was runway level high fashion for the time, and quickly spread among the well to do as the latest thing, with a new name, the “drop front” or “fall front” fly. Unfortunately, translating the design from leather, which does not unravel, to fabric, which does, made the Bavarian fly extremely complicated and therefore expensive. This of course added to its cachet, so much so that by 1775, it had reached the aristocracy even in the backwater of Colonial America.
Lederhosen
Colonial Williamsburg has a fabulous collection of high-status men’s pants from the 18th century. A survey thereof shows the number of French flies waning into the 1770s, and the number of Bavarian drop front flies waxing beginning in 1775, reaching a height about 1800. Unfortunately, these are all very high-status garments, such as a pair of “button front breeches of cream-colored silk velvet, with repeat of small pink and green flowers self-covered buttons, those at knee embroidered with metallic silver thread. Silver galloon strap at knee.” But did the states and Continent really issue enlisted soldiers what amounts to hand made Givenchy trousers? Of course not.
The false idea that they did partially comes from a series of paintings done by Charles M. Lefferts in the early 1900s, later published as Uniforms of the Armies in the War of the American Revolution, 1775–1783. in 1926.
A Lefferts rendering of trousers a la Bavarois, 2d Maryland 1777.
Measuring this man’s height against the known length of his musket makes him about 6’4 inches tall, the height of actors Clint Walker, Chuck Connors, Clint Eastwood, and the average NBA basketball player. If you look below the point of his vest, he is wearing drop front pants over his massive thighs. Curiously, he is also wearing a 1760s style skirted vest and long regimental coat. Are we to believe that Maryland issued its men old fashioned vests and coats, but high fashion breeches? Since Lefferts was born in 1873, he had no first-hand knowledge of his subject, we must look to period images.
Alas, these are of little help. It is difficult to discern whether any of the men in period paintings are wearing French Fly pants, Bavarian drop front pants, or anything else. The most informative images, the von German drawings, are unfortunately from the side, and of no help.
Von German “American Soldier” New York Hist Soc.
Amerikanische Scharfschutz, Brown University
Since information is so scarce, we must turn to the other reason we believe that rev war soldiers wore drop front pants. Klinger’s Sketchbook ’76. Page 9 shows a pair of Bavarian drop front breeches, based on George Washington’s uniform in the Smithsonian, and Lt. Col. Tench Tilghman’s uniform from the Maryland Historical Society. This is odd, because Washington’s uniform is from the 1794, 15 years after the war and at the height of the drop front craze. Tilghman was the scion of a blue blood family, owned half of Baltimore, was an aide to Washington, and hobnobbed with Lafayette. Even if his uniform can be dated to the war years, it is not only a high-status uniform, but one of the highest status possible in America at the time; his not wearing Bavarian trousers would be of greater note. Neither are evidence that any of the 13 colonies nor the Continent paid to make their enlisted men such high fashion trousers.
On Sketchbook page11, Klinger bases his Bavarian drop front overalls on unspecified plates in “Bernard’s History of England” and the images above. While these may establish Bavarian drop front flies supplied by the King George, it certainly does not necessarily mean that the colonies were doing so.
Surprisingly, two pairs of enlisted overalls are known to exist, mistakenly labelled as “Pantaloons,” and residing in the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Costume Department. These are exquisitely made, and probably military examples, but unfortunately European, and from 1793 and later.
No credible evidence exists that any of the 13 colonies nor the Continent issued its troops Bavarian drop front pants. This makes sense, as that design is difficult to make, does the exact same thing as the simple French fly, and fashionable pants do not really contribute much extra to Liberty. Additionally, with all but the highest status clothiers making French fly pants, retraining them to cut out and make the new design would seriously impede production, even assuming that patterns and training could be somehow provided from Georgia to Vermont at a time when the men could barely be supplied a musket or shirt. In the War of the Revolution, the colonists were by all indications wearing French fly breeches and overalls, not drop front ones a la Bavarois.
Join us this Sunday, March 5, at 7:00 p.m. on our Facebook page for our latest installment of the Rev War Revelry series. This weekend’s chat will focus on the exploits of British General Benedict Arnold in Virginia during 1781, including the capture and burning of Richmond. We will be joined by Virginia historians John Pagano and Mark Wilcox, who will help bring to life the story of when Arnold turned his sword against the people he once called his comrades and countrymen. We hope to see you there!
Emerging Revolutionary War Era 