Situated near the York River, across the street from the American Revolution Museum of Yorktown, sits a monument commemorating the French soldiers that fought, bled, and for some, gave their lives during the siege.
A few years ago, or 1421 days ago to be exact, I pulled over into the parking lot for that monument, walked up, and gave a cursory look at the names and the wording. I did not speak or read French–much to the detriment of my French teacher in high school I must say–but determined there that I would. Later that same evening I downloaded the language learning app Duolingo and started a streak, which if you had not guessed already, has reached 1421 straight days.
I recently went back to that monument and could at least interpret enough of the wording to understand the gist. Good start.
The monument in question Author collection
I now take that rudimentary language foundation capability on the road. Where may you ask?
Screenshot to confirm streak
Next week, after deciding approximately a whole 10 days ago, that following the wedding of a cousin in Connecticut, I would drive the remaining 7 hours to Quebec, Canada. Impromptu? Kind of. Just have to remember to pack my passport!
A bucket list item of mine in the history column is to see the famous Plains of Abraham, from one of the climactic battles of the French and Indian (Seven Years’ War), fought 267 years ago this month, on September 13. I also want to walk the last footsteps of General Richard Montgomery as he led an unsuccessful attack by the fledging rebellious American military against the British during the first winter of the American Revolution. I may have missed the anniversary but at least I am within the same year-ish (since the battle was fought on New Year’s Eve 1775).
Side note, Maryland honors Montgomery by a county named in his honor, one of, if not the first, place, county, town, etc. to be named for a person not related to the British monarchy, aristocracy, or gentry. Along with Washington, the two counties in Maryland were siphoned off of Frederick in 1776.
Stay tuned next, week to Emerging Revolutionary War’s Facebook page as I will go live there.
And then I will retreat to a Quebec cafe…or brewery and test out my French…so if you have a suggestion of a can’t miss place, drop a comment below!
The American Revolution is often remembered through the familiar lens of successful campaigns and their contributing commanders: General George Washington at Yorktown, Virginia, and General Horatio Gates at Saratoga, New York, to name two of the most significant. Yet the Revolution was an international conflict fought across a much wider geographic area than just along the eastern seaboard of North America. In An Underappreciated Victory, Stephen L. Kling, Jr. and Kristine L. Sjostrom seek to restore one of these overlooked campaigns to its proper place in the history of the war. Their study of Bernardo de Gálvez’s 1779 Mississippi River campaign demonstrates how Spain, despite pursuing its own strategic interests, contributed materially to the defeat of Britain and how Gálvez’s leadership produced significant results with remarkably limited resources.
The authors begin by establishing the strategic importance of Spanish Louisiana and the Mississippi River Valley. Following Spain’s entry into the war against Britain in 1779, Louisiana became both a potential target for British operations and a valuable base from which Spain could threaten British possessions. New Orleans was particularly vulnerable. British control of posts along the Mississippi posed a danger to Spanish interests while also threatening communications and commerce throughout the region. Rather than remain on the defensive, Gálvez recognized an opportunity to seize the initiative.
It is in this decision that the authors make one of their strongest arguments about Gálvez’s leadership. His forces were hardly overwhelming, and the campaign presented formidable logistical challenges. Distance, weather, disease, difficult terrain, transportation problems, and uncertain intelligence, all complicated operations. Gálvez nevertheless chose an offensive strategy. His willingness to act before the British could concentrate their forces became one of the campaign’s defining characteristics. The resulting operations against British positions, culminating in the capture of Baton Rouge and other posts, demonstrated the effectiveness of surprise, mobility, intelligence, and decisive leadership.
Kling and Sjostrom are very effective in showing that the campaign cannot be understood solely through its engagements. Logistics and geography receive significant attention, revealing the extent to which environmental conditions shaped military possibilities along the Mississippi River. The campaign’s success therefore becomes more impressive when measured against the obstacles continuing to confront Gálvez. His achievement was not simply that he defeated British forces; it was that he managed to organize and sustain an offensive in an environment that severely restricted the movement and supply of armies.
Another of the book’s greatest strengths is its use of multinational sources. By incorporating Spanish, British, and German accounts, the authors move beyond the predominantly Anglo-American perspective that has traditionally dominated Revolutionary War narratives. These sources allow them to reconstruct events from competing viewpoints and provide greater insight into the decisions made by both sides. Their documentary approach also strengthens the case for reconsidering Gálvez’s campaign as a serious military operation rather than an isolated episode on the margins of the Revolution.
The book’s greatest historiographical contribution, however, lies in its reassessment of Spain’s role in the American Revolution. Spain did not enter the war solely to assist the American colonies; it had territorial, commercial, and geopolitical objectives of its own. Nevertheless, those objectives frequently aligned with the interests of the American revolutionaries. Gálvez’s campaign illustrates how Spanish military operations diverted British attention and resources while weakening British control of the Gulf Coast and Mississippi Valley. The authors therefore broaden the traditional interpretation of the Revolution from an Anglo-American struggle supported by France into a genuinely international conflict.
The study is not without potential limitations. This book is a deep and exhaustive study of a particular subsect of war, designed to be the volume on this aspect. Similarly, the authors’ admiration for Gálvez occasionally raises the question of whether they attribute his successes too heavily to exceptional leadership rather than to a combination of favorable circumstances, British weaknesses, and Spanish strategic interests. Nevertheless, the evidence presented makes a convincing case that Gálvez exercised considerable initiative and understood the advantages of striking quickly against dispersed British positions.
Ultimately, An Underappreciated Victory shows that the importance of a military campaign cannot always be measured by the size of participants or soldiers. Gálvez’s 1779 Mississippi campaign involved relatively modest forces compared with the armies that fought at Saratoga or Yorktown, yet its strategic consequences were considerably greater than its obscurity might suggest. Kling and Sjostrom provide a valuable reconstruction of the campaign while challenging readers to reconsider the geographic and international dimensions of the American Revolution. Their study establishes Gálvez not merely as a peripheral Spanish commander but as an important participant in the broader struggle against Britain. In doing so, An Underappreciated Victory makes a persuasive case that the campaign—and Gálvez himself—deserve a more prominent place in the history of the American Revolution.
THGC Publishing, St. Louis, MO 2026 634 pages, including images $50.00
From June 28, 1778, until October 1781, there is a gap in major engagements by the main Continental Army under the command of General George Washington. A few minor engagements, at Springfield, Connecticut Farms in New Jersey or Stony Point in New York, occurred. Actions in the Southern Theater occupied much of that period and Newport, Rhode Island became a focal point as well, especially with the French arrival. Historians, especially popular and public historians, tend to quickly cover these approximately three years of war in short order, moving onto the finality.
Yet, these years are important, especially to understand the other facets of warfare, rebellion, and revolution. Diving into the primary sources, from the quill pens of Washington, his fellow generals, staff officers, Continental Congress, and the soldiery that comprised the Continental and militia forces, and one can easily surmise how important those non-major-warfare years were. Luckily for the avid students and enthusiasts of the American Revolutionary War, we now have a concise, richly researched, and impactfully created prose published by Casemate and authored by Jeffrey A. Denman to fill this gap.
A glance at Denman’s biography reveals that he was a public-school teacher and historian who has a resume filled with publications and researched articles. He takes that acquired skill set into this publication, weaving the story, sprinkled with direct quotes and primary source material, for an accurate and compelling overview of the high-stakes of the American Revolution and how success very much so hung in the balance from 1778 – 1781.
At the center is Washington, as the “book tracks…strategic and personal contributions across multiple theaters of war…” (pg. xv). This includes relationships with other military and political leaders, along with the French commander, Rochambeau, in how he “carefully navigated French egos, the paralysis of Congress, and state politics…” (pg. xvii). Yet Denman’s goal is to provide a balanced approach to these years from Monmouth Courthouse in 1778 to Yorktown in 1781, “History proves that Washington was not a great military strategist…committed serious tactical mistakes” but “no man…could match Washington in courage, fearlessness, and devotion to his country.” (pgs. xvi-xvii).
Concluding his introduction, Denman clearly states the purpose of the following pages and why, although no major engagements were fought for over three years under Washington’s command, “this book, focusing on moments and locales rarely chronicled, provides an in-depth and captivating window into how one individual galvanized meager resources to accomplish the extraordinary” (pg. xvii).
Join us this Sunday at 7pm as we welcome author and historian Michael C. Hardy. Hardy, best known for his many Civil War and North Carolina history published works, he’ll chat with us about the American Revolution in southern Appalachia and the raw and uncertain conflicts that occurred there between Patriots, Loyalists, and Indians. Hardy’s new book “Western North Carolina and Eastern Tennessee in the American Revolution” is now available and worth a read. There are few that know North Carolina history and can tell a story quite as good as Mike can. This Revelry is pre-recorded and will post to our Facebook and You Tube pages at 7pm.
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Tom Elmore.
Throughout history many battles have been decided by little things, sometimes even before the battle. This is true of the Battle of Kings Mountain in South Carolina whose outcome was influenced by a little-known battle about thirty miles away on July 26, 1780, at Fort Thicketty in modern-day Cherokee County, S.C.
The fort was built circa 1769 when local farmer David Anderson converted his barn into a blockhouse outpost. Originally called Fort Anderson, it became known as Fort Thicketty (or Thicketty Fort) after a near-by creek that had unusually thick vegetation along its banks. Though the fort was intended to defend the area population from hostile Native Americans, it mainly saw action against outlaw gangs.[i]
In early June 1780, the fort was occupied by Captain Patrick Moore and his Loyalist followers. Moore was born in Virginia in 1750. Since 1768 he had lived about a mile southwest of the fort along Thicketty Creek. He was described as a fierce, intimidating man who stood six foot seven.[ii]
Moore’s men used the fort as a base of operations for raiding Patriot’s homes and farms. One historian described his men as “politically neither British nor American. They were simply robbers…preying upon defenseless women and children.” Another historian noted that “[Fort Thicketty] became a great place of resort and protection for Tory parties. They would sally forth and plunder Whig families in every direction – so that women and children were often left without clothing, shoes, bread, meat, or salt.” [iii]
Although the New York Campaign of 1776 was not General Nathanael Greene’s finest moments during the American Revolutionary War, he did rebound and become one of the premier military strategists by the end of the conflict. His views, learned on the field of battle, the bustle of various headquarters, and the countless miles of riding and marching on campaign was summed up when he wrote the following.
“Don’t be surprised if my movements don’t correspond with your Ideas of military propriety. War is an intricate business, and people are often saved by ways and means they least look for or expect.”
Military strategy, tactics, and the war that unfolded will be the topic of discussion on our Facebook page for Sunday, July 26, and the next “Rev War Revelry.” If you miss it, check out our YouTube and podcast channels as the program will be uploaded there next week. This program will also mark the debut of the newest full-time contributor and historian with Emerging Revolutionary War, Ben Powers. Although this “Revelry” will be taped, we wanted to give a bit more background about Ben, what he has written and projects moving forward. That way you can fill the comment section with questions about both military strategy and our newest blog historian. Ben had the following to say.
“I’m honored to share a few exciting milestones in my work with Emerging Revolutionary War.
Over the past several months, I’ve had the privilege of contributing a growing body of research to ERW, including:
• “Nathaniel Greene: Washington’s Strategist or Pioneering Operational Artist” (November 2025) • “The Attack and Defense of the Chew House: British Professionalism at Germantown” (March 2026) • “Brave, Meritorious, Unrewarded Kirkwood”: Unrecognized Valor in the Continental Army (April 2026) • Review of The Wandering Army: The Campaigns That Transformed the British Way of War by Huw J. Davies (April 2026) • “Embattled Farmers or Continentals?” (July 19, 2026)
In June, Emerging Revolutionary War welcomed me as a regular contributor. I am grateful to the editors and readers for the opportunity to participate in the outstanding scholarship and public history the organization produces.
I’m also pleased to be working with the ERW team on an upcoming volume to the Emerging Revolutionary War Series that will center on Race to the Dan/Guilford for the 250th. This is a long-term project, but I am looking forward to the journey.
Whether you’re interested in Revolutionary War history, military leadership, or operational art, I hope you’ll join us for the conversation.
Thank you to everyone who has read, shared, commented on, or challenged my work. As we celebrate America’s 250th anniversary, I look forward to continuing to learn, write, and contribute to the field.”
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest writer, historian Kenneth Bancroft
Leesburg, Virginia. Tuesday, July 9, 1776. “…News that the Sanhedrim (1) had declared the thirteen united Colonies Free and Independent States. That this was intended by the Northern Colonies from the first, I am well convinced…” (2) These are not the words one expects when talking about the Declaration of Independence, but to a 26-year-old entrepreneurial Englishman caught in a revolution that he neither wanted nor supported, this was the worst news ever. (3)
The Journals of Nicholas Cresswell is an informative source on the Revolutionary War from what could be considered a ‘Tory’ point of view. It is a personal account that shows that the struggle for freedom was not just on the battlefield but also in the streets and homes at the end of the colonial era. Nicholas Cresswell was an outsider from the moment he stepped on American soil in 1774 and heard news of the siege of Boston, noting that the colonists “talk as if they were determined to dispute the matter with the Sword.” (4) For two years, Cresswell observed the American colonies descend into rebellion, “The people here are Liberty mad, nothing but war is thought of.” (5)
When the colonies officially separated, Cresswell felt despair and anger instead of hope. Cresswell’s intention was to set up life as a farmer, but misfortune and bad timing foiled his plans. He blamed the “cursed Rebellion” for turning this “earthly paradise to a Hell upon terra firma.” (6) Constantly under the suspicion of the local committees tasked with enforcing the Continental Association as a suspected ‘Tory’ spy, he grew to despise the Continental Congress as vile and hypocritical. “The Congress under the fallacious pretense of nursing the tender plant, liberty, which was said to thrive so well in American soil, have actually torn it up by the very root.” (7)
Cresswell could not help himself and always got into political discussions in the bars and houses of Virginia. “At Dinner had a long dispute with Doctor Jacson about the origin of the present proceedings…Most of the company agrees that I had the better of the argument. But never so much embarrassed in my whole life.” (8) He even chided General Washington as a yeoman farmer “Negro-driver” (9) and a and was befuddled that he kept evading General Howe. Ultimately, he did decide that he was a decent General.
In the end, Cresswell decided that Virginia, for all of its bounty, was lost and returning to England was his only option. After three years of surviving the storm of a revolution, he made his slip to British lines. While technically not a Loyalist, (10) Cresswell provides critical details on the otherwise missing narrative of Loyalism in the colonies, especially Virginia. His last act dramatically involved him in a plot to free English sailors and soldiers from a jail in Alexandria Virginia. Some of the conspirators were well known merchants in Alexandria. (11) Thankfully Cresswell’s account exists to inform how a revolution hits the home front and the profundity of independence at that time.
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Marc Lee.
At first glance, it is an unremarkable accounting ledger filled with columns of figures and financial calculations. Yet hidden among its entries is the story of a Revolutionary War soldier whose compensation claim continued to circulate through Connecticut’s bureaucracy years after the fighting had ended. The surviving manuscript, together with wartime muster rolls and treasury records, allows us to follow Edmund Fowler’s claim from military service to a replacement for a lost note, revealing how the Revolution’s paperwork could outlive the war itself.[i]
The document at the center of this story is an Invoice of Officers’ and Soldiers’ Notes, Payable June 1783, a manuscript created as Connecticut settled the financial obligations left by the Revolutionary War. Rather than recording the service of a single soldier, the ledger summarizes military notes issued to officers and enlisted men, listing an aggregate amount exceeding £10,700 and bearing a notation that the account was “charged July 9, 1784.” At first glance, it appears to be little more than a routine accounting record.[ii]
Figure 1.Invoice of Officers’ and Soldiers’ Notes, Payable June 1783, showing the original heading and later accounting calculations.
A closer examination tells a different story. The manuscript remained in active use long after it was first prepared. While the principal heading and endorsements were written in one hand, later calculations were added in a different ink and by a different hand, indicating that officials returned to the account years after the notes first became payable.[iii]
Those physical clues reveal an important reality about the Revolution’s aftermath. Paying veterans was not accomplished through a single transaction. Military service had to be verified, financial obligations reconciled, and documentary evidence maintained as claims moved through the state’s accounting system. What appears to be an ordinary ledger therefore preserves part of the administrative machinery that transformed wartime service into recognized financial compensation.
Among the many entries associated with Connecticut’s officers’ and soldiers’ notes is one that allows this broader process to be examined on a human scale. Through a series of surviving military and treasury records, the documentary trail of Revolutionary War veteran Edmund Fowler can be followed from his wartime muster rolls to the postwar administration of his compensation claim, offering a rare glimpse into how one soldier’s service continued to generate paperwork long after the fighting had ended.[iv]
The ledger identifies many officers and enlisted soldiers, but one name stands out because his surviving records extend well beyond this single document. Edmund Fowler appears in a series of Connecticut military records that preserve different stages of his wartime service, allowing his postwar compensation to be traced across several distinct record groups.[v]
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historians Lori Amos Doss & Jarred Marlowe
Part 2: A Veteran in the Southern Campaign and the Road to Yorktown
In early 1781, after years of nearly continuous service, James Johnston finally set out for home on furlough. It must have been a long-awaited journey. Yet before he could reach his destination, events once again pulled him back into the war.
While passing through Prince Edward County, Virginia, Johnston learned of the difficult situation facing General Nathanael Greene in the South. British forces under Lord Cornwallis were pressing hard, and Greene’s army was in poor condition. Supplies were scarce, clothing was inadequate, and many of the soldiers were inexperienced militia. Previous defeats at Charleston and Camden had weakened the Continental presence in the region, leaving Greene with a force that struggled to match the discipline of British regulars.
Johnston understood the danger. Rather than continue home, he took action. Drawing on his experience in the northern campaigns, he recruited twelve veteran soldiers who had completed their terms of service. Together, they traveled south to join Greene. Their arrival was timely. Greene assigned them as adjutants to officers commanding Virginia militia, where their role was to help bring order and discipline to units that often lacked both.
Time was short. Cornwallis was advancing, and a major confrontation was approaching. Johnston worked to train the militia as best he could, instilling in them the habits and expectations of seasoned soldiers. The results became clear at the Battle of Guilford Court House on March 15, 1781.
Greene arranged his army in three lines. The North Carolina militia formed the first, the Virginia militia the second, and Continental regulars the third. When the British advanced, the North Carolina militia broke quickly, some retreating without firing. The Virginia militia, however, held their ground. They fought with determination and inflicted significant casualties on the advancing British.
Although Greene eventually ordered a withdrawal, the battle came at a high cost for Cornwallis. His army suffered heavy losses, weakening his campaign in the South. Later observers noted the steadiness of the Virginia militia, and some accounts credited Johnston and his fellow veterans with helping prepare them for that moment.
After the battle, Johnston returned home at last, reuniting briefly with his family after years away. But the war was not yet finished, and his rest did not last long. Within days, he learned that Lafayette was now operating in Virginia and facing British forces under William Phillips and Benedict Arnold. Once again, Johnston chose to return to service.
July 9-10, 2026 marks the 250th anniversary of the actions at Gwynn’s Island, Virginia. Located in Mathews County, Gwynn’s Island became the last post that Lord Dunmore and his small force of Loyalists and British Regulars could hold in Virginia. The battle marked the end of Lord Dunmore’s military campaign in Virginia and helped secure Patriot control of the colony. Lord Dunmore’s force consisted of Loyalists, British soldiers, and former slaves who had accepted his promise of freedom in exchange for military service.
Thomas Jefferson drew this sketch of Gwynn’s Island in July 1776, Library of Congress
After several raids along Virginia’s coastline, Dunmore established a base on Gwynn’s Island in the Chesapeake Bay. Patriot leaders viewed the island as a threat because it allowed British forces to launch attacks on nearby communities. Brigadier General Andrew Lewis led approximately 1,200 Virginia militia to confront Dunmore’s forces. Lewis positioned artillery on the mainland opposite the island and began a bombardment on July 9, 1776. The Patriot cannon fire damaged British defenses, destroyed supplies, and caused significant casualties.
Disease also weakened Dunmore’s camp. Smallpox had spread among his soldiers and supporters, reducing their ability to defend the island effectively. Facing continuous artillery fire and the effects of illness, Dunmore decided to abandon Gwynn’s Island. During the night of July 9–10, British ships evacuated the remaining troops, leaving the Patriots in control. Dunmore’s force suffered minimal casualties during the battle (including Lord Dunmore suffering a minor injury when his ship was struck), but they were decimated by the diseases that plagued his force. About 400 to 500 former slaves people in the Ethiopian Regiment and roughly 150 white loyalists died of disease. Many dying were left behind when Dunmore left the island. The reported conditions on the island were horrible.
The victory at Gwynn’s Island effectively ended organized British and Loyalist efforts to regain control of Virginia during the early years of the Revolution. Although British naval raids continued along the coast, Dunmore never returned to lead another campaign in the colony. The battle strengthened Patriot confidence, protected Virginia from an immediate British threat, and allowed the colony to focus on supporting the broader struggle for American independence. Today, the island is still a rural recreational retreat for many, recently interpretation about the battle and its history have been installed to tell the important story of what took place there in July 1776.
Emerging Revolutionary War Era 