“…declare the United Colonies free and independent states…” 250th of the Virginia Fifth Convention Resolution 

Virginia Capitol in Williamsburg,
March 2026

As the Second Continental Congress in Philadelphia debated on next steps and the ultimate goal of the war with Great Britain, leaders in Virginia decided to push the needle. Virginia was the largest (population and economically wise) colony in the 13 rebellious colonies. Many of its leaders were seen as leaders in the Continental Congress and in revolutionary thought. Other colonial leaders, including John Adams, knew that for the war and independence to be successful, Virginia needed to be a leading participant in the effort.

The Fifth Virginia Convention, the extra-legal body running Virginia in the absence of Royal authority, met in the Virginia Capitol in Williamsburg on May 6, 1776. There was a lot to discuss among the members. The Convention consisted of more conservative planters from the eastern part of the colony. These members tended to favor reconciliation with the mother country. Other members of the convention, that supported a more radical response were from the western part of the colony (west of the fall line) and many of its legal and philosophical minds (George Mason, James Madison, George Wythe). These men, who held the majority of the Convention, favored independence and also held the hearts and minds of most Virginians.

The most significant action of the Fifth Convention came on May 15, 1776, adopting groundbreaking resolutions. First the Convention directed Virginia’s delegates to the Continental Congress to propose a formal declaration of independence, to “declare the United Colonies free and independent states…” This directive was the first official call from any colony for a complete break with Britain. It signaled that reconciliation was no longer the goal; independence had become both necessary and inevitable in the minds of Virginia’s revolutionary leaders.

The resolution went even further. It not only urged independence but also called for the establishment of foreign alliances and confederation among the colonies. These measures demonstrated a sophisticated understanding of what independence would require: diplomatic recognition, military support, and political unity. Virginia’s leadership recognized that separation from Britain would not be sustainable without these elements in place. Soon, on June 7, 1776 in Philadelphia, Virginian Richard Henry Lee took the direction from the Fifth Convention and proposed that the Continental Congress declare independence.

Secondly, the Convention called for constructing its own independent government, taking concrete steps to replace colonial rule with a republican system. This new constitution of the “Commonwealth of Virginia’ would set up the system for which Virginia would be governed. Finally, the convention appointed a committee to draft a declaration of rights. This effort reflected the belief that independence was not just about rejecting British authority but also about creating a new political order grounded in principles of liberty and self-government.

One of the most influential figures in this process was George Mason. Mason drafted the Virginia Declaration of Rights, a document that would become one of the most important statements of political philosophy in the revolutionary era. Adopted in June 1776, it asserted that all men are by nature equally free and possess inherent rights, including the enjoyment of life and liberty, the means of acquiring property, and the pursuit of happiness and safety. It also emphasized that government derives its power from the people and must be accountable to them.

Delegate James Madison wrote
townspeople in Williamsburg took
down the Union Jack and replaced it
with the Continental Union flag.

Another key figure connected to Virginia’s revolutionary leadership was Thomas Jefferson, who was serving in the Continental Congress. Although he was not present at the Virginia Convention in May, the instructions sent by Virginia directly influenced his work. When Congress appointed a committee to draft a declaration of independence, Jefferson drew heavily on ideas similar to those expressed in Mason’s document. The resulting United States Declaration of Independence, adopted in July, echoed Virginia’s emphasis on natural rights and the legitimacy of revolution against unjust government. The Convention also created a committee to design a state seal, this committee (led by George Wythe) adopted the seal of Virginia that is the basis for the seal used today.

Virginia’s actions in May 1776 also reflected broader social and political changes within the colony. The authority of the royal governor, Lord Dunmore, had effectively collapsed, and revolutionary institutions had taken control. Local committees and militias enforced the decisions of the convention, demonstrating that power had shifted from imperial officials to colonial leaders. This transition was not without conflict, but by May 1776, the revolutionary cause had gained widespread support among Virginia’s population. In the mind of Virginians, as of May 1776, Virginia was independent of the King and Parliament of Great Britain.

On June 12th, a follow up article will commemorate the 250th anniversary of the Virginia Declaration of Rights.

Why 1776?

The American Revolution lasted eight years, 1775-1783. Why then do we celebrate 1776 and not the end of the war? Continental Congress presented the Declaration of Independence to the world on July 4, 1776. That’s the big deal. 

There was something different about this revolution against British authority. The colonies were better organized. The people, policymakers, and military worked in harmony, though imperfect, toward freeing themselves from the bonds of the British Empire. Lexington and Concord had loudly proclaimed the shots heard round the world in April 1775.

By the second year, the colonial armies already had two significant military achievements in the winter and early spring. The militia turned back the invading southern British army at the battle of Moore’s Creek Bridge, North Carolina, in February. This victory contained the Redcoats in the southern theater to South Carolina. Up north, the British army withdrew from Boston in March, giving the colonists a physical and moral achievement. The leaders of the Glorious Cause, however, knew violence and blood wouldn’t be enough to win the war as failed Scottish and Irish uprisings had demonstrated all too well.

It was now up to the Continental Congress to fire a political shot. Congress tasked a committee of five to draft a declaration in June 1776. The members included Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Roger Sherman, and Robert R. Livingston. Jefferson was the principal author. By July 1776, a final version was signed and submitted. It was only two paragraphs, but its words were, and still are, heard round the world.

The Declaration of Independence succinctly describes two of the five “Ws” of the war. Why we were fighting, or the main political goal, was first to be put forth. The colonists demanded a political divorce from British rule. As the committee wrote, at times “…it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another …” Instead, the colonies wanted to form their own government based on a constitutional republic. It would be equal in standing to all other sovereign nations. That was the Why.  

Then our founding fathers pulled the trigger and laid out the What, the reasons or “unalienable rights” we were fighting for against the crown. “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” The King and Parliament hadn’t given these rights to any of their colonies or even their own citizens.

In fact, quite the reverse, British rule had subjugated the American colonies in “a long train of abuses and usurpations.” Redcoats threw colonists in jail without due process. Colonists were hung without a trial or after an unfair trial. Parliament levied taxes on colonial goods at a whim. We were subjects. We were here to serve the crown. Facing such despotism, the colonies had every right to abolish political ties with the British Empire and pursue life, liberty, and happiness.

It’s these three rights that we will soon be celebrating by commemorating the 250th Anniversary of the document that declared those rights, the Declaration of Independence.  

Thoughts on “Thoughts on Government”

For weeks, colleagues in the Continental Congress had been asking John Adams for advice. If the colonies were to break away from Great Britain and established governments of their own, what should those governments look like?

The first request came from North Carolinians William Hooper and John Penn in late March. The duo had been recalled from Philadelphia so they could join in conversations about a new government for their home state. Before departing, they each asked Adams for his thoughts. Adams “wrote with his own Hand, a Sketch,” and gave copies to both delegates.[1] The ensuing discussions in North Carolina led to the April 12, 1776 passage of the Halifax Resolves, which authorized the colony’s Congressional delegation to vote in favor of independence—the first colony to formally grant such authorization. 

Next came a request from George Wythe of Virginia and then one from John Dickinson Sergeant of New Jersey. Finally, Richard Henry Lee of Virginia asked for a copy.

Adams had already given the topic considerable thought. He had touched on it in early 1775 in a series of newspaper articles that he’d signed “Novanglus,” and during a trip home in late 1775, he had addressed it for the Massachusetts colonial assembly. “The Happiness of the People is the sole End of Government, so the Consent of the People is the only Foundation of it,” he had written.[2] “Happiness,” in Adams’s vocabulary, meant “ease, comfort, security.”[3]

As Adams sketched out his ideas for his colleagues, he took the same approach, and each letter allowed him to develop and refine his ideas even further. By the time he wrote out his thoughts for Wythe, those ideas had become so clear and well articulated that the impressed Lee asked if he could have the letter published. Adams agreed. Using Wythe’s letter as the basis, Lee threw it into shape and “put it under the Types.”[4]

Continue reading “Thoughts on “Thoughts on Government””

The Adams Book Club: “Making the Presidency” by Lindsay M. Chervinsky

Emerging Revolutionary War is pleased to partner with the Adams Memorial Foundation to share some reading about America’s “Founding Family.” The Foundation holds a monthly book club, hosted by Board President Jackie Cushman. In special arrangement with the Adams Memorial Foundation, ERW is sharing links to the first few conversations from that book club.

The next book highlighted in our series is Making the Presidency: John Adams and the Precedents That Forged the Republic by Dr. Lindsay M. Chervinsky (Oxford, 2024).

Continue reading “The Adams Book Club: “Making the Presidency” by Lindsay M. Chervinsky”

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.

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