Book Review: The Great Contradiction by Joseph J. Ellis

A time travel work of non-fiction to a foreign country are words usually not associated with a history of “the American Founding.” Yet that is exactly the intent of historian and author Joseph Ellis as he begins his exploration of this most important era of American history. Unlike those science-fiction journeys, this “trip will be different. Our tour will focus on the downside of the American founding.” (Pg. ix).

That downside is quickly explained by Ellis in his book The Great Contradiction: The Tragic Side of the American Founding. The past winner of a National Book Award for his work on the character of Thomas Jefferson, Ellis plans to “focus on two unquestionably horrific tragedies the founders oversaw: the failure to end slavery, and the failure to avoid Indian removal.” (Pg. ix).

Let’s review how this seasoned historian fulfilled his tour outline. “Most of the achievements were unprecedented…” as the triumphant British colonies made “the United States the political model of the liberal state.” That is the truth, “but it is not the whole truth…” as Ellis explains, “there are two legacies of the founding era…and both qualify as enormous tragedies.” Combined, “these triumphal and tragic elements constitute the ingredients for an epic historical narrative.” Ellis’s tour will include this “coexistence of grandeur and failure, brilliance and blindness, grace and sin” in his attempt to counteract how the narrative has so long been written by historians, which is of the “either/or” persuasion (Pgs. 17-18).

Since his aim is to provide context for how the world of the founding generation is vastly different than the one that has congealed over time, Ellis quickly reorients the lodestar of that time. “As far as the American founding is concerned, it is a lie—or, if you prefer less disturbing language, a massive delusion. None of the prominent founders believed they were creating a democracy” (Pg. 17).

“The political lodestar for the revolutionary generation was not ‘the people’ but, rather, ‘the public,’ or public things” rather “the public interest was the long-term interest of the people…” (Pg. 17).

As he further develops his approach, Ellis provides parameters: “if the original sin of American history is slavery, and racism its toxic residue, the original sin for American historians is ‘presentism.” In other terms, utilizing 21st-century “political and moral values” as the criteria to assess those in the Revolutionary era (Pg. 18).

Although there are two tragedies, the role of slavery and the failure to provide a roadmap to extinction have more dedicated pages in this book than the plight of the Native Americans, and Ellis admits that early on. Discussing the saga of the potential to end slavery, the debates, factors, and ultimate outcome are propped up by astute analysis by Ellis, and uncovering primary sources to let the founders speak as often as possible. The failure to end the institution of slavery must be judged the greatest failure of the revolutionary generation.” The passing of Benjamin Franklin, the “Virginia Staddle”, and other near chances provide a fascinating, yet tragic, “what if” scenario that Ellis unpacks with brilliant prose. (Pg. 129).    

The same can be said about the early republic and the relations with Native Americans, as “there is an almost irresistible urge to wonder if the story could have turned out differently.” The failure, though, once again, is frustrating. Part of that reason was the weakness of the Federal government and the inability to “impose its will on the state of Georgia and the white population” when facing the boundary of the Creek country. Although exceptional leadership by George Washington as president and Henry Knox as secretary of war, did formulate a treaty with the Creeks, due to the lack of strength and minuscule numbers in the United States Army, “at virtually every level—logistical, economic, political—there was not the remotest chance of implementing” the treaty. As the Federal government grew and the white population expanded, this scenario would transform somewhat—the Federal government gaining strength—but the conclusion for the Native Americans, sadly, was always the same. Loss of standing and loss of land and loss of ability to dictate terms or maintain their way of life (Pgs. 166-167).

Ellis addresses the questions that lie at America’s twisted roots and, with candor and deftness, successfully rises above the presentism that he highlighted as a curse for historians and history enthusiasts, especially of the current culture wars. This narrative is a must-read to understand these pivotal questions and ultimate failures of the early American republic, which even the “sharpest minds of the revolutionary generation” could not solve.

Book Information:
Alfred A. Knopf, New York, 2025, 226 pages, including images, bibliography, and index
$31.00

“…to the Liberty Peace and Safety of America: Cut the Gordian knot…”

On this date in 1776, Major Joseph Ward, serving as a staff officer for Major General Artemas Ward, second in command of the Continental Army that had just evicted the British from Boston, sat down at his desk to pen the following letter. The recipient was John Adams, a fellow Massachusettsan then serving in the Second Continental Congress in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Ward continued his correspondence of keeping Adams apprised of military affairs around Boston. In this letter, however, he makes the case for the colonies to “cut the Gordian knot” and declare independence, months before Richard Henry Lee’s proposal to call for independence in late June 1776.

Boston 23 March 1776

Sir,

The 17th Instant the Pirates all abandoned their Works in Boston and Charlestown and went on board their Ships, and on the 20th they burnt and destroyed the works on Castle Island. They now lye in Nantasket Road waiting for a fair wind; we keep a vigilant eye over them lest they should make an attack on some unexpected quarter. The particulars with regard to the Seige, the Stores taken, &c. you will receive from better authority, therefore it is unnecessary for me to mention them. Our Troops behaved well, and I think the flight of the British Fleet and Army before the American Arms, must have a happy and very important effect upon the great Cause we engaged in, and greatly facilitate our future operations. I wish it may stimulate the Congress to form an American Government immediately. If, after all our exertions and successes, while Providence offers us Freedom and Independence, we should receive the gloven cloven foot of George to rule here again what will posterity, what will the wise and virtuous through the World say of us? Will they not say, (and jusly) that we were fools who had an inestimable prize put into our hands but had no heart to improve it! Heaven seems now to offer us the glorious privilege, the bright preeminence above all other people, of being the Guardians of the Rights of Mankind and the Patrons of the World. It is the fault of the United Colonies (a rare fault among men) they do not sufficiently know and feel their own strength and importance. Independence would have a great effect upon the Army, some now begin to fear that after all their fatigue and hazards in the Cause of Freedom, a compromise will take place whereby Britain may still exercise a power injurious to the Liberty Peace and Safety of America: Cut the Gordian knot, and the timid and wavering will have new feelings, trimming will be at an end, and the determined faithful friends of their Country will kindle with new ardour, and the United Colonies increase in strength and glory every hour.

Yesterday I saw your Brother, who informed that Mrs. Adams and your Children were well.

General Ward, on account of his declining health, has wrote his Resignation to the President of the Congress. I expect the greatest part of the Army will march for New York, or the Southern Colonies as soon as the Fleet is gone to Sea; and the Troops that remain here will be employed in fortifying the most advantageous Posts to defend the Town and harbour. I do not much expect the Enemy will make any attempts to regain possession of Boston, for I think they are sufficiently convinced that they cannot penetrate the Country in this part of America; ’tis probable they will try their fortune to the Southward and if they fail there the game will be up with them. We hear many accounts about Commissioners coming from Britain to treat with the Colonies separately, or with the Congress. Many fear we shall be duped by them, but I trust the congress is too wise to be awed by the splendor or deceived by the cunning of British Courtiers.

I know not of one discouraging circumstance attending either our civil or military affairs in this part of the Continent. I have lately heard with pleasure that the Farmer is become an advocate for Independence.Wishing the Congress that Wisdom which is from above, I am Sir with much Respect Your most Humble Servant,Joseph Ward

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

To learn more background about the letter, click here. Courtesy of the Massachusetts Historical Society.

“John Morton: The Swedish-Finnish Founding Father”

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Madeline Feierstein to the blog. A bio follows the article.

John Morton (1725-1777) had a storied political career. From election to the Pennsylvania Assembly at the prime age of 31, he soared to his state’s delegation at the First and Second Continental Congress. It is made even more astounding by the fact that he is the only Founding Father with roots in New Sweden. While his political activities and civic service are well-documented, one wonders if his personal identity and family traditions left a lasting impact.

New Sweden was the Kingdom of Sweden’s attempt at a colonial settlement in the “New World.” Situated along the Delaware River, it was difficult to entice enough settlers to relocate to this wilderness. Despite its eventual absorption into the Dutch colony of New Netherland, its Swedes and Finns left behind an enduring legacy: the log cabin.

John Morton’s great-grandfather, under the original Swedish Mårtenson/Finnish Marttinen, emigrated to New Sweden in 1654. His father died the year John was born (1725), and his mother passed the same year that he died (1777).[1] Stepfather John Sketchley, a land surveyor of English extraction, appeared to have much influence on young John’s life and career. Morton married fellow Finnish heritage descendant Anne Justis and the couple had eight children who lived to adulthood. Researchers debated whether Morton knew of his Finnish roots, or if he self-identified as solely Swedish.[2] The historic high concentration of ethnic Finns alongside Swedes in the Delaware River Valley, combined with their efforts to preserve traditions, can lead one to believe that he had significant exposure to his roots – if not by his neighbors then through his wife.

By the time independence was on the table in Philadelphia, Morton had represented Pennsylvania as a native son for decades. As a descendant of New Sweden, however, his lineage predates William Penn’s control of the colony in 1681. Due to New Sweden’s brief dominance of the area, much of the original settlers’ foundations in the state have been claimed for Penn. The work of the Swedish Colonial Society and the American Swedish Museum revolves around educating on the existence and imprint of this culture on the American landscape.

Pennsylvania hotly debated the topic of independence from Great Britain. Morton saw both sides to the argument but cautiously supported disunion, believing that this division would “heal wounds” aggravated against his state by tyrannical rule. [3] Morton himself has been dubbed the “tie breaker,” due to his deciding vote – which carried his state and the rest of the Congress in favor of separation. His signatures lies under that of another famed Pennsylvanian: Benjamin Franklin.

As an American, Morton helped craft the Articles of Confederation. Sadly, he did not see his new nation come to fruition. Morton also has the accolade of being the first Founding Father to die. Passing from a lung condition (likely tuberculosis), his grave in Chester, Pennsylvania remained unmarked until an obelisk was installed by his descendants in 1845. No mention of his New Sweden roots are noted on the gravesite or monument.

While his name is etched into history as the anglicized John Morton, his familial homestead stands at Prospect Park, where a collection of New Sweden’s history has been carefully preserved. More strides have been made internationally, with Morton continuing to act as a cultural and diplomatic link between his ancestral lands and the United States. In Finland, the U.S. Embassy named a prominent room after John Morton, as well as the University of Turku with its John Morton Center for North American Studies.


[1] Edward Root, MD, “Commemoration of John Morton,” The Swedish Colonial Society Journal, vol. 5: 7, Fall 2017, https://colonialswedes.net/wp-content/uploads/2015/07/SCSJ_vol5_no7.pdf

[2] Auvo Kostianien, “The Genealogy of John Morton, the Signer: the DNA Results,” Migration-Muuttoliike Journal, vol. 47: 2, 2021, https://siirtolaisuus-migration.journal.fi/article/view/109443/64279

[3] Richard Stromberg, “John Morton,” Descendants of the Signers of the Declaration of Independence, 2007, https://www.dsdi1776.com/signer/john-morton/

Bio:

Madeline Feierstein is an Alexandria, VA historian and founder of the educational and historical consulting company Rooted in Place, LLC. A native of Washington, D.C., her work has been showcased across the Capital Region. Madeline is a writer for Emerging Civil War and the National Museum of Civil War Medicine. She leads significant projects to document the sick, injured, and imprisoned soldiers that passed through Civil War Alexandria. Madeline holds a Bachelor of Science in Criminology from George Mason University and a Master’s in American History from Southern New Hampshire University. Explore her research at www.madelinefeierstein.com.

In Praise of Common Sense

Thomas Paine

It’s hard to overemphasize how important Common Sense was as a tool of persuasion.

Sure, we all know about it. “The idea that Common Sense played a pivotal role in moving the nascent revolutionary movement toward independence is universally acknowledged today,” says historian Jett B. Conner.[1]

Yet I’ve found that, beyond its generally accepted place in American history, most people don’t quite “get” Common Sense. Reading the document today—like anything written 250 years ago—poses a challenge for modern readers. The language doesn’t catch for us the way it did for readers of its time. We aren’t living in the same political context they were. We marinade in a much different, much more immersive media environment. These factors all remove us from the visceral impact Common Sense had.

In the early days of my teaching career, I taught public relations classes. I had been a PR professional prior to that, enticed to the academy, but I wanted my classes to be grounded in the professional standards established by the Public Relations Society of America (PRSA). They had criteria for academic programs that wanted PRSA certification. My university didn’t qualify because we didn’t have a specific major in PR at the time, but I nonetheless used their standards as the model for my classes. One of the standards at the time advocated teaching the history of PR.

Several PR milestones sprang from the political arena: Andrew Jackson’s first use of a press secretary in the White House; Teddy Roosevelt’s bully pulpit; the WWI-era Creel Commission; FDR’s fireside chats; the WWII-era Office of War Information, etc.

Common Sense made the list as the most significant piece of American writing to that point—a track specifically aimed at public persuasion. And boy, did it succeed! “Common Sense was the most radical and important pamphlet written in the American Revolution and one of the most brilliant ever written in the English language,” assesses historian Gordon Wood.[2]

Prior to Common Sense’s publication in January 1776, John Dickinson’s Letters from a Farmer in Pennsylvania in 1767–8 held the record as the most influential piece of public writing. Published in 19 of the 23 major newspapers in the colonies—as well as appearing in England and France—the letters opposed Parliament’s Townsend Acts, which imposed tariffs. Dickinson, a lawyer rather than a farmer, became one of the most famous men in America because of his twelve letters, which did much to unify the colonies in common cause against British taxation.

Farmer’s Letters captured the spirit of the moment and Americans’ imaginations like nothing before,” says Dickinson biographer Jane E. Calvertt, “selling more copies than any other pamphlet to date. The response was immediate and resounding, going far beyond anything Dickinson could have anticipated.”[3]

Thomas Paine’s Common Sense eclipsed Dickinson exponentially—some 100 times larger, according to historian John Ferling.[4]

Timing helped. Bloodshed on Lexington Green, at the North Bridge in Concord, and all along the road back to Boston added urgency to public discussions. Closure of the port of Boston and the October firebombing of Falmouth, Maine—and the foreboding message it suggested to other colonies—heightened tensions even more. England was no longer some abstract entity across the ocean, but an intrusive force ready to impose its will through violence if necessary. “It was successful because it came precisely the time when people were ready for its message,” says historian Alfred F. Young.[5]

“The suppressed rage that animated Paine’s writing in Common Sense was another important factor in its success,” contends historian Scott Liell, who said “Paine felt, and made his readers feel, ‘wounds of deadly hate.’”[6]

Through 1775, the Continental Congress remained undecided on a course of action, with factions pushing for independence and others pushing for rapprochement. Therefore, news from Philadelphia did little to provide clear guidance for public sentiment.

“[T]he idea of independence was familiar, even among the common people,” John Adams later pointed out.[7] The idea just hadn’t yet crystallized.

Common Sense—first published on January 10, 1776, as a 46-page pamphlet—became that crystal.

“[T]here is something absurd, in supposing a continent to be perpetually governed by an island,” Paine wrote. Paine made such sentiments seem like statements of the obvious. Of course a continent shouldn’t be ruled by an island. Of course one honest man was worth more to society and in the sight of God than all the crowned ruffians that ever lived. Of course.

That was the genius of Paine’s writing.

To read it today, one wouldn’t appreciate how accessible it was to common folks or realize how often people read it aloud in taverns and inns so that even people who could not read could hear its ideas and engage in discussions. A reader today wouldn’t grasp just how hungry readers of 1776 were for Common Sense’s ideas.

“In weighing the influence of a tract, the active role of the reader is often underappreciated,” Young points out.

Reading is an act of volition. A person had to buy the pamphlet; one shilling was cheap as pamphlets went but costly to a common carpenter who might make three shillings a day or to a shoemaker had made even less and out of the question for a common laborer who earned one-eighth of a shilling a day. Or a person had to borrow the pamphlet, seeking out an owner, or respond to someone’s blandishments to read it. When it was read aloud, as it was in taverns and other public places, a person had to make a decision to come to listen or to stay and hear it out.[8]

In other words, readers had to actively want to read it—and they sometimes went to great lengths and expense to do so.

Common Sense sold somewhere around 125,000 copies within its first three months and, within its first six months, went through thirty-five printings—an astounding success considering the population of the American colonies totaled just under 3 million people.[9] A translation appeared for Pennsylvania’s German communities, and editions appeared in England and France.

Sales figures probably only scratch the surface of the pamphlet’s total circulation. “As its reputation and popularity spread,” says historian Scott Liell, “individual copies were read and re-read to countless assembled groups in public houses, churches, army camps, and private parlors throughout the colonies.”[10]

“Its effects were sudden and extensive upon the American mind,” pronounced Philadelphia physician Dr. Benjamin Rush, a friend of Paine’s who had suggested the title. Suddenly, the pearl-clutching in Congress became open, vigorous, public debate. (See Kevin Pawlak’s January 9, 2026 post for more info on the public reactions.) “The controversy about independent was carried into the news papers . . .” Rush recalled. “It was carried on at the same time in all the principal cities in our country.”[11] Indeed, in was in early February 1776 in a New York City bookshop—on his way from Boston to Philadelphia—that Adams first found Common Sense. (Adams would have his own complicated history with the pamphlet, which I’ll explore in a future blog post.)

To this day, Common Sense has never been out of print. It exists today as an icon, a relic, a foundational text we’ve all heard of. We accept its primacy as fact. But few people actually read it, and fewer successfully tune in to its urgency and immediacy. In commemoration of its 250th birthday, I invite you to take a closer look at a document you certainly know and think you know, and see what new sense you may be able to draw from it. (Read it here!)


[1] Jett B. Conner, John Adams vs. Thomas Paine: Rival Plans for the Early Republic (Yardley, PA: Westholme, 2018).

[2] Gordon Wood, “Thomas Paine, America’s First Public Intellectual,” Revolutionary Characters (New York: Penguin, 2006), 209.

[3] Jane E. Calvert, Penman of the Founding: A Biography of John Dickinson (London: Oxford University Press, 2024), 184.

[4] Ferling, 143.

[5] Aldred F. Young, “The Celebration and Damnation of Thomas Paine,” Liberty Tree: Ordinary People and the American Revolution (New York: New York University Press, 2003), 271.

[6] Scott Liell, 46 Pages: Thomas Paine, Common Sense, and the Turning Point to Independence (Philadelphia: Running Press, 2003), 20.

[7] “From John Adams to Benjamin Rush, 21 May 1807,” Founders Online, National Archives, https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Adams/99-02-02-5186.

[8] Young, 271.

[9] Young says, “Scholars have generally accepted a circulation of 100,000 to 150,000 copies (although none of them make clear how they reached their conclusions).” Liberty Tree, 270.

[10] Liell, 16.

[11] Benjamin Rush, The Autobiography of Benjamin Rush, George W. Corner, ed. (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1948), 114, 115.

Robert Morris: Founding Father and Revolutionary Financier

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Michael Aubrecht

To call Robert Morris “a political renaissance man” would be an understatement. He was vice president of the Pennsylvania Committee of Safety (1775–76) and was a member of the Continental Congress (1775–78) as well as a member of the Pennsylvania legislature (1778–79, 1780–81, 1785–86). Morris practically controlled the financial operations of the Revolutionary War from 1776 to 1783. He was a delegate to the Constitutional Convention (1787) and served in the U.S. Senate (1789–95). Perhaps most impressive is the fact that he signed the Declaration of Independence and the Articles of Confederation and later signed the U.S. Constitution.

At the start of the war Robert Morris was one of the wealthiest men in the colonies, but he would go on to claim bankruptcy after some catastrophic decisions. To fully appreciate the contributions of Robert Morris we must go back and examine him from the beginning.

Robert Morris

Robert Morris was born on January 31, 1734, in Liverpool, England, the son of Robert Morris, Sr., and Elizabeth Murphet Morris. His mother died when he was only two and he was raised by his grandmother. Morris’ father immigrated to the colonies in 1700, settled in Maryland and in 1738 he began a successful career working for Foster, Cunliffe and Sons of Liverpool. His job was to purchase and ship tobacco back to England. Morris Sr. was known for his ingenuity, and he was the creator of the tobacco inspection law. He was also regarded as an inventive merchant and was the first to keep his accounts in money rather than in gallons, pounds, or yards.

In 1750 tragedy would once again strike the Morris family. In July Morris Sr. hosted a dinner party aboard one of the company’s ships. As he prepared to depart a farewell salute was fired from the ship’s cannon and wadding from the shot burst through the side of the boat and severely injured him. He died a few days later of blood poisoning on July 12, 1750. The tragedy had a terrible effect on Morris who became an orphan at the age of 16. Looking for a change he left Maryland for Philadelphia in 1748. He was taken under the wing of his father’s friend, Mr. Greenway, who filled the gap left by the death of Morris’ father. Raised with a tremendous work ethic Morris flourished as a clerk at the merchant firm of Charles Willing & Co. 

Following in his father’s footsteps Morris was also gifted with successful ingenuity. In his twenties he took his earnings and joined a few friends in establishing the London Coffee House. (Today the Philadelphia Stock Exchange claims the coffee house as its origin.) Morris was sent as a ship’s captain on a trading mission to Jamaica during the Seven Years War (1756-1763). He was captured by a group of French Privateers but managed to escape to Cuba where he remained until an American ship arrived in Havana. Only then was he able to secure safe passage back to Philadelphia. 

Shortly after Morris’ return to the colonies Willing retired and handed the firm over to his son Thomas who offered him a partnership. This resulted in the formation of Willing, Morris & Co. The firm boasted three ships that were dispatched to the West Indies and England importing British cargo and exporting American goods. This relationship lasted for over 40 years and was immensely successful. At one point, Morris was ranked by the Encyclopedia of American Wealth, along with Charles Carroll of Carrollton, as the two wealthiest signers of the Declaration of Independence.

As influential merchants, Morris and Willing disagreed with the changes in tax policy. In 1765, the Stamp Act was passed and was met with massive resistance. Morris was at the forefront and led protests in the streets. His fervor was so striking that he convinced the stamp collector to suspend his post and return the stamps back to their origin. The tax collector stated that if he had not complied, he feared his house would have been torn down “brick by brick.” In 1769, the partners organized the first non-importation agreement, which forever ended the slave trade in the Philadelphia region.

Morris married Mary White on March 2, 1769, and they had seven children. In 1770, he bought an eighty-acre farm on the eastern bank of the Schuylkill River where he built a home he named “The Hills.” Due to his growing reputation Morris was asked to be a warden of the port of Philadelphia. Showing his tenacity, he convinced the captain of a tea ship to return to England in 1775.

Later on, Morris was appointed to the Model Treaty Committee following Richard Henry Lee’s resolution for independence on June 7, 1776. The resulting treaty projected international relations based on free trade and not political alliance. The treaty was eventually taken to Paris by Benjamin Franklin who transformed it into the Treaty of Alliance which was made possible by the Continental Army’s victory at Yorktown in 1781. 

Scholars disagree as to whether Morris was present on July 4 when the Declaration of Independence was approved. But when it came time to sign the Declaration on August 2 he did so. Morris boldly stated that it was “the duty of every individual to act his part in whatever station his country may call him to in hours of difficulty, danger and distress.” Until peace was achieved in 1783, Morris performed services in support of the war. His efforts earned him the moniker of “Financier of the Revolution.”

Michael is the author of “The Letters of Robert Morris: Founding Father and Revolutionary Financier.

Liberty’s Words Ringing Hollow: Prince Whipple’s 1779 Petition for Freedom in New Hampshire

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Dr Lawrence Howard

Many people have not been taught that slavery was practiced in early America’s northern colonies, later states. Though fewer people were enslaved in the north than in the south, where the plantation economy was highly reliant on enslaved labor, people were also held in bondage in the north. Also not often taught is the contribution such enslaved persons made to the success of America’s Founding, though recent scholarship seeks to amend this. This article explores the 1779 Petition to the New Hampshire Government, written by Prince Whipple – born in Africa in 1750 and purchased by William Whipple of Portsmouth, New Hampshire at a young age. In this petition, twenty black men requested emancipation from slavery. The African American petitioners echoed some of the same political ideas that the delegates to the Second Continental Congress had staked their own lives on just three years earlier in the Declaration of Independence, announcing American political independence from Britain.

Moffatt-Ladd House, Portsmouth, NH, Author’s photo.

Continue reading “Liberty’s Words Ringing Hollow: Prince Whipple’s 1779 Petition for Freedom in New Hampshire”

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

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.

250 Years Ago: The Boston Massacre Oration: March 6, 1775

“To-morrow an oration is to be delivered by Dr. [Joseph] Warren,” Samuel Adams wrote on March 5, 1775, the fifth anniversary of the infamous Boston Massacre. “It was thought best to have an experienced officer in the political field on this occasion, as we may possibly be attacked in our trenches.”

Around every anniversary of the Boston Massacre, the people of the city and surrounding countryside sat to reflect on the events of that frigid March night and the current situation between themselves and their mother country. Chosen to deliver the 1775 commemorative oration, his second time doing so, was one of Boston’s most prominent physicians and chairman of the committee of safety, Dr. Joseph Warren. Because March 5 fell on a Sunday, the event was held the following day.

Dr. Joseph Warren. NYPL.

Warren was known to be a passionate and fiery speaker, able to invoke the raw emotion necessary to drive his listeners to action. The political climate surrounding that year’s event was never more incendiary. While no one could have known it at the time, though many anxiously anticipated something coming, the first shots of the Revolutionary War at Lexington and Concord were only a little more than a month in the future. The events on March 6 within the walls of the Old South Meeting House did nothing to ease those anxieties.

Accounts vary on the numbers and makeup of the attendees, but thousands flocked to the commemoration, including a large group of British Army officers garrisoned in the city. The presence of His Majesty’s soldiers was a sure sign that the building would be thick with rigid tension. The sight of the scarlet-coated men seated and standing around the pulpit did not deter the organizers. John Adams showed civility towards the officers, while his cousin Samuel saw an opportunity to enflame sentiments.

Old South Meeting House, Boston, MA. Courtesy of Robert Orrison.

Dr. Warren, 33 years old in March 1775, took the stage garbed in a toga, a symbol of the free men of Rome. His oration only touched upon the events five years prior, but the remainder oozed with patriotic fervor and a call to resist Great Britain’s rule until grievances were met. “I mourn over my bleeding country,” Warren lamented. “With them I weep at her distress, and with them deeply resent the many injuries she has received from the hands of cruel and unreasonable men.” As if a premonition of his own demise in battle at Bunker Hill several months later, he declared, “Our liberty must be preserved. It is far dearer than life.” The speech in its entirety can be read here.

Met with some low hisses and sighs of disapproval from the front rows, Warren’s oration was nonetheless received with emotion and the admiration of his fellow colonists. It was not until he stepped down from the pulpit that pandemonium began to ensue. Samuel Adams rose to appoint a speaker for next year’s commemoration. In doing so he also took the opportunity to reinforce the belief that the events on March 5, 1770 were not an accident, but a “Bloody Massacre.” Even Warren had refused to use this rhetoric. In response, the British officers began to jeer, shouting “Fie! Fie!” and “To Shame!” The already uneasy crowd mistook the shouts as “Fire! Fire!” and many began rushing for the windows, scrambling down the outside gutters and walls. As if this was not enough, the 43rd Regiment of Foot, returning from exercise, happened to be marching by with fife and drum. Their presence threw the crowd “into the utmost consternation,” who may have believed another “bloody massacre” was about to unfold.

Cooler heads prevailed, and any serious confrontation was avoided. Had it not been, one officer attested that it “wou’d in all probability have proved fatal to [John] Hancock, Adams, and Warren, and the rest of those Villains, as they were all up in the Pulpit together.”

March 6, 1775, proved to be another example of the swiftly deteriorating climate in Massachusetts. The influence of the “rebel” leaders continued to grow, while the image of a tyrannical monarch and his blood-thirsty soldiers was reinforced. Open hostilities seemed inevitable. Any day could bring bloodshed. As history exited the Old South Meeting House that day, it continued its accelerated journey down the road from Boston and on to Lexington Green.

On this date…The Jay Treaty

On this date in history…

On November 19, 1794, John Jay, representing George Washington’s administration, affixed his signature to a document bearing his name in history. The Jay Treaty. Although the official name of the pact was “The Treaty of Amity, Commerce, and Navigation, Between His Britannic Majesty and the United States of America.”

The treaty’s aim was to resolve outstanding issues from the conclusion of the American Revolutionary War and facilitate economic trade. Although some of the clauses were not fulfilled completely and another war, the War of 1812, erupted because of it, the treaty did serve a purpose. The agreement ushered in a decade of trade between the two countries and gave the fledgling nation a chance to gain footing, a major concern for George Washington, as first president. The treaty also cemented the promise that Great Britain would vacate the forts in the Northwest Territory and agreed to arbitration on the boundary between Canada and the United States and the pre-American Revolutionary War debt.

Yet, the treaty was divisive. Even Jay remarked that he could find his way in the dead of night by the illumination of his own effigy. The treaty angered the French as that country was amid its revolutionary throes, and bitterly divided the nation. Out of it came the separation into two political parties, the Federalists, who supported the treaty, and the Democratic-Republicans who stood opposed to it.

The treaty was ratified by the Senate on June 24, 1795, with an exact two-thirds majority, 20 to 10 along with being passed by William Pitt the Younger, prime minister of Great Britain and his government, and took effect on February 29, 1796.

Historian Joseph Ellis wrote that the Jay Treaty was “a shrewd bargain for the United States” and “a precocious preview of the Monroe Doctrine.” As one of Washington’s most fervent wishes, the treaty “postponed war with England until America was economically and politically more capable of fighting one.”

War!

On this date, in 1812, President James Madison, the fourth president of the United States of America, signed declared war on Great Britain, to go into effect the next day. This is the date Madison signed the measure into law, after sending it to Congress on June 1.

The wording, in its entirety, is below:

BY THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
A PROCLAMATION
Whereas the Congress of the United States, by virtue of the constituted authority vested in them, have declared by their act bearing date the 18th day of the present month that war exists between the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland and the dependencies thereof and the United States of America and their Territories:
Now, therefore, I, James Madison, President of the United States of America, do hereby proclaim the same to all whom it may concern; and I do specially enjoin on all persons holding offices, civil or military, under the authority of the United States that they be vigilant and zealous in discharging the duties respectively incident thereto; and I do moreover exhort all the good people of the United States, as they love their country, as they value the precious heritage derived from the virtue and valor of their fathers, as they feel the wrongs which have forced on them the last resort of injured nations, and as they consult the best means under the blessing of Divine Providence of abridging its calamities, that they exert themselves in preserving order, in promoting concord, in maintaining the authority and efficacy of the laws, and in supporting and invigorating all the measures which may be adopted by the constituted authorities for obtaining a speedy, a just, and an honorable peace.
In testimony whereof I have hereunto set my hand and caused the seal of the United States to be affixed to these presents. Done at the city of Washington, the 19th day of June, 1812, and of the Independence of the United States the thirty-sixth. By the President:
JAMES MADISON.
JAMES MONROE,
Secretary of State.

*Transcript courtesy of the Miller Center at the University of Virginia.*