​ A Loyalist Provincial Regiment is Formed

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Drew Palmer for Part II of his Maryland Loyalist series (for Part I, click here).

​ A Loyalist Provincial Regiment is Formed

​In August 1777, a massive British fleet sailed up the Chesapeake Bay. On board were 17,000 men under the command of General William Howe, Commander-in- Chief of all British forces in North America. Howe’s objective was the Patriot capital of Philadelphia. As the British force moved up the Chesapeake, a contingent stopped in Chestertown. Accompanying the British in Chestertown was none other than James Chalmers. In the previous winter, Chalmers was attacked by a violent Patriot mob energized by the recent Patriot victories at Trenton and Princeton. Inspired by the recent victories, Patriot governments renewed their commitment to stamp out Tory activity, and they knew where Loyalist threats loomed the largest. Loyalist sentiment on the Eastern Shore began to threaten the stability that the Patriots had created. Maryland delegate to the Continental Congress, Samuel Chase, informed Congress of the situation in February of 1777. “The Tories in Sussex [Delaware], Somerset, and Worcester Counties, have been assembling for some days. They have 250 men collected at Parker’s Mill, about nine miles from Salisbury, and tis reported they have three field pieces, which they received from the Roebuck [44- gun British man-of-war], with some men, with the intention to seize the magazine and destroy the property of the Whigs…. There are three men of war in the bay, one at the Tangiers, one at Smith’s Point, and one in the middle…. I must repeat the necessity of a representation.”16 The insurrection continued to grow until Brigadier General William Smallwood, the commander of Maryland’s army, arrived on the Eastern Shore with three thousand soldiers; this quickly put an end to the Loyalist uprising.17 Smallwood described the Tory uprising as a movement that uses “religion as a cloak for their nefarious designs.”18

After the Patriots reestablished control on the Eastern Shore, Eastern Shore Loyalists largely went underground, some fled, and most chose to keep quiet. However, James Chalmers, not the type to stay quiet, left for New York in June 1777, where he helped advise Howe on his upcoming campaign. Chalmers had traveled through New Jersey in April and informed Howe of the weakness of Washington’s army. Chalmers informed Howe [through his aide-de-camp] that he believed Washington’s army could be defeated with relative ease, thereby clearing a path to Philadelphia, which was Howe’s goal for the upcoming campaign. In August of 1777, Howe’s army continued its journey through Maryland. After Howe’s army reached the capital of Philadelphia, they had fought in a series of engagements, diminishing its strength. It became clear to Howe that more troops were needed to guard Philadelphia and the surrounding region. Chalmers had supported Howe during the march through Maryland by procuring horses from Loyalists for Howe’s army.19 This partnership may have convinced Howe that large numbers of potential Loyalist recruits could form provincial regiments. On October 8, 1777, Howe issued a proclamation that appeared in the Pennsylvania Ledger:

​Whereas for the more speedy and effectual suppression of the unnatural rebellion subsisting in North-America, it has been thought proper to levy a number of Provincial Troops, thereby affording to his Majesty’s faithful and well-disposed subjects, inhabitants of the colonies, an opportunity to co-operate in relieving themselves from the miseries attendant on anarchy and tyranny, and in restoring the blessings of peace and order with just and lawful government. As a reward for the promptitude and zeal of his Majesty’s faithful subjects who may enter into the corps now raising. I DO HEREBY, in consequence of authority to me given by his Majesty, promise and engage, that all persons who have, or do hereafter inlist into any of the said Provincial Corps, to serve for two years, or during the present war in North America, and shall continue faithfully to serve in any engagements, shall,, after being reduced or disbanded, obtain, according to their respective stations, grants of the following quantities of vacant lands in the colonies wherein their corps have been or shall be raised, or in such colony as his Majesty may think fit. Every non-commissioned officer- 200 acres. Every private soldier- 50 ditto.20 ​ It was decided that James Chalmers would lead his own Loyalist regiment. With a pen stroke, Howe created three provincial units: the Roman Catholic Volunteers, the First Battalion of Pennsylvania Loyalists, and the First Battalion of Maryland Loyalists. Chalmers commanded the First Battalion of Maryland Loyalists and successfully recruited 336 troops for the regiment. Although small compared to other Loyalist provincial regiments, Chalmers fared much better than the 132 men raised by the Pennsylvania Loyalists Battalion and the 180 men of the Roman Catholic Volunteers. Though the Catholic Loyalists and the Pennsylvania Battalion of Loyalists are significant in their own right, this narrative will focus more specifically on Chalmers and his First Battalion of Maryland Loyalists.

The Men of the Regiment

​The First Battalion of Maryland Loyalists was made up of a diverse group of men, each with their own motivations for joining the regiment. As with many lesser-known regiments, little is known about the privates. However, historians know the regiment’s officers well. Phillip Barton Key was studying law in Annapolis when the rebellion began. Key allegedly refused numerous attempts to persuade him to swear an oath of allegiance to the Patriots. He refused again in 1777. Fearing Patriot retribution, Key fled to Philadelphia in December, where he joined the regiment. Key’s brother, John Ross Key, had joined the Continental Army as an officer. It is likely that having a family member on the Patriot side lessened the risk of retaliation against Phillip Barton Key at the war’s end, allowing Phillip Barton Key to return to civilian life with relative ease after the war. Ironically, Phillip Barton Key was the uncle of Francis Scott Key, who wrote the Star-Spangled Banner decades later, during the British attack on Baltimore in 1814.21

Philip Barton Key

Irish-born Baltimore physician Patrick Kennedy fled to Philadelphia after the Patriot victory at Trenton, believing that harassment of Tories would increase. Kennedy was proven correct when his doctor’s office was ransacked for his medical supplies. Kennedy received one of the first captain’s commissions in Chalmers’ regiment.22 Another of the captains commissioned in the regiment was the Virginian, Dr. Alexander Middleton. Like many Loyalists who refused to swear oaths of allegiance, Middleton was jailed briefly before fleeing to Philadelphia in late 1776, where he cared for Loyalist prisoners after seeing the alarming conditions in which they were confined. Middleton bided his time until the British arrived in September, when he could, at last, be open about his beliefs. He quickly met up with Chalmers, received a captain’s commission, and recruited 52 men into the unit. However, Middleton fell from his horse while pursuing the Patriots. The injury was severe and forced him to resign his commission and sail to England with his family. Perhaps this was the first sign of the bad luck that would plague the regiment’s future.23

​Well-known Eastern Shore Loyalists Levin Townsend and Isaac Costen arrived in Philadelphia in the spring of 1778 and were commissioned as lieutenant and captain. Calbe Jones, the former sheriff of Somerset County on the Eastern Shore, also arrived and soon received an officer’s commission in the regiment. Chalmers also recruited John MacDonald from the Forty-Second Royal Regiment of Highlanders and appointed him major in the Maryland Loyalists Battalion. Chalmers likely sought out MacDonald because of his military experience.24

The Reverend John Patterson was released in March 1778 after being confined in Baltimore. He immediately fled to Philadelphia, where Chalmers named him the regiment’s pastor. Fourteen-year-old William Augustus Bowles traveled from Western Maryland to Philadelphia and bought himself an ensign’s commission in Chalmers’ regiment. Bowles was energetic and adventurous. He did not know it then, but his future held plenty of adventures. As word trickled out, more men began to join the regiment, primarily from Pennsylvania, Delaware, and Maryland. From November 1777 to late spring 1778, the regiment continued to grow and began drilling its companies. Once the regiment was together, it received its uniform. The uniform closely resembled that of British regulars. The regiment was issued red coats with olive-colored facings. The buttonholes were decorated with white lace. The rest of the uniforms consisted of a white waistcoat and breeches, with black linen half-gaiters designed to protect shoes and stockings from mud and dirt. Little information exists regarding the arms and accouterments issued to the regiment. Complete uniformity was rare at this stage in the war forboth Loyalist provincial units, such as Chalmers’ regiment, and much of the Patriot forces.25

Continue reading “​ A Loyalist Provincial Regiment is Formed” →

Hessian Origins of the Headless Horseman

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Evan Portman

“The Headless Horseman Pursuing Ichabod Crane” by John Quidor
(Google Art Project)

It’s a scene familiar and frightening to most American schoolchildren. A headless horseman riding down a dark road, his jack-o’-lantern face alight.

But the Headless Horseman is not strictly an American legend. In fact, it probably didn’t even originate in America. An Irish legend tells of a rider who allegedly carries his severed head under his arm and wields a whip made of the spines of human corpses. A similar revenant is said to haunt the Rhenish valleys of Germany. Thus, it is no surprise that an American twist on the headless horseman tale emerged from the revolutionary era—and the imagination of Washington Irving.

Irving’s life was intertwined with the history of the American Revolution. He was born in Manhattan in 1783 the same week that the city learned of the Treaty of Paris, which ended the Revolutionary War. Of course, Irving’s namesake was the hero of the revolution, George Washington. Irving briefly met the father of the country when he was only 6 years old in 1789, when Washington came to New York City for his inauguration as president. It is therefore no surprise that Irving decided to base his version of the horseman on Revolutionary War lore.[1]

Published in 1820, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow follows Ichabod Crane, a tall, lanky, superstitious man from Connecticut who had traveled to Sleepy Hollow (just outside of Tarrytown, New York) to become a schoolmaster. Much to Crane’s fright, the town is said to be haunted by “the ghost of a Hessian trooper, whose head had been carried away by a cannon-ball, in some nameless battle during the Revolutionary War.”[2] Despite this, the timid but ambitions teacher quickly infatuates himself with the young lady, Katrina Van Tassel, but competes for her attention with the brawny Abraham “Brom Bones” Van Brunt.


On the way home from a gathering at Katrina’s house, Crane encounters a lone rider who appears to be headless. Recalling the ghost stories he had heard, Crane gallops across a bridge that the horseman reportedly cannot pass. But just as he crosses the bridge, the rider strikes him with what seems to be a severed head. The following morning, Crane’s horse arrives home without him, and all that is left by the bridge is a smashed pumpkin. Brom Bones marries Katrina, and the narrator is reluctant to accept whether the stunt was orchestrated by Van Brunt himself or that the Headless Horseman might truly haunt the valley of Sleepy Hollow.

The Headless Horseman of Irving’s imagination might have grown from one of the European myths of old, but the legend may also have origins rooted in the history of the Revolutionary War.

Washington Irving by Charles Robert Leslie

In 1776, British Gen. William Howe had slowly but surely pushed Washington’s Continental Army from Long Island to Upper Manhattan over the course of three months. After a daring escape across the East River, Washington’s army narrowly avoided destruction and lived to fight another day. That day came on October 28, as Howe attempted to encircle the Continental Army. Washington withdrew his forces to White Plains where he fought a valiant, but unsuccessful, defensive battle.

During that battle, British cannons bombarded the Continental lines, and several American guns responded in what became a brief artillery duel. According to Maj. Gen. William Heath, this counter-battery fire decapitated one of the Hessian soldiers. “A shot from the American cannon at this place took off the head of a Hessian artillery-man,” he recorded in his diary on November 1, 1776.[3] Perhaps this fellow became the inspiration for Irving’s headless horseman, or the author based him on one of the other Hessian casualties of the New York Campaign.

By late autumn in 1776, the area south of the Bronx River had become a veritable no-man’s-land. That included Westchester County, where Tarrytown—the setting of the legend—is located. Scores of Loyalist militiamen, British infantry, and Hessian Jägers roamed the countryside and skirmished with Patriots, vigilantes, and raiders. Irving’s specter could have been based on one of the feared Hessian soldiers who patrolled and “haunted” Sleepy Hollow during the war. His legend also might have grown from the alleged headless Hessian corps discovered near Tarrytown after the battle of White Plains. The corpse was later buried in the Old Dutch Burying Ground, where other inspirations for characters in Irving’s story can be found.[4]

Regardless of its origins, the headless horseman and The Legend of Sleepy Hollow looms large in our collective memory, even two centuries later. Perhaps the “Galloping Hessian,” as Irving called him, still patrols the quiet roads of Sleepy Hollow, 250 years after his untimely demise. I, for one, don’t want to find out!


[1] Donna Davies, “Halloween History: The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” New York Historical Quarterly, October 24, 2019, accessed September 2026, https://www.nyhistory.org/blogs/halloween-history-the-legend-of-sleepy-hollow-2.

[2] Washington Irving, “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” in The Sketch Book of Geoffrey Crayon, Gent., (New York: C. S. Van Winkle, 1820), 425.

[3] William Heath, Memoirs of Major General William Heath, (New York: William Abbatt, 1901), 73.

[4] Jonathan Kruk, Legends, and Lore of Sleepy Hollow & the Hudson Valley, (Charleston, SC: History Press, 2011), 117–118. 

Maryland Loyalists in the American Revolution: Politics, War, and Exile

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Drew Palmer of Revolutionary Maryland

Part I

The historical memory of the Revolutionary War in Maryland generally focuses on the state’s Patriots. Men such as Otho Holland Williams and John Eager Howard are remembered fondly for their committed, heroic military service to the American cause. Politically, men such as Charles Carroll and William Paca—both signers of the Declaration of Independence and Maryland Patriots—are remembered for their commitment to the cause. Studying and remembering these men is vital to understanding Maryland’s role in the conflict. However, the Revolutionary War was a civil war. A civil war that made men from the same states sworn enemies. Though Maryland is rightly known as a state that contributed immensely to the Patriot cause, both ideologically and materially, it had a sizable and vocal minority of Loyalists who took it upon themselves to fight against the Patriot cause. Just like Maryland Patriots, Maryland’s Loyalists supported their cause both politically and militarily.

Maryland Loyalist courtesy of Don Troiani Art


Geography and Religion

The strength of Loyalist sentiment depended on where you were in Maryland. Baltimore, Annapolis, and the surrounding area mostly favored the Patriots. After the Patriot Committees of Correspondence in Baltimore and Annapolis developed their own networks of communication and governance, they strictly enforced conduct among people living within their areas of control. Anyone deemed an enemy “to the cause of liberty” faced strict legal and extralegal proceedings, along with harsh punishments. Though the Patriot cause already preached ideals of liberty, free speech, and self-governance, Patriot governments ironically cracked down hardest on political dissent early in the conflict. The accused dissenters were expected to beg for forgiveness before a Patriot tribunal.

Many such instances occurred in Baltimore in 1775, when James Dalgleish, a merchant, was accused of saying, “that as soon as the English troops shall land here, he will join them against the Americans, it being a folly for him to longer deny his principles.” The Baltimore Committee of Correspondence deemed Dalgleish dangerous to the cause and an “incurable enmity to this country.” Dalgleish was summoned before a tribunal where he had to beg for forgiveness and blamed his Loyalist speech on his drinking. The Continental Congress declared Dalgleish an “enemy to the liberty of Americans.” Out of fear of violent retribution, Dalgleish fled Baltimore and was never seen again.1

James Christie, another merchant from Baltimore, faced ridicule and ousting from the Baltimore Committee of Observation for saying in a letter that, “we are in such terrible confusion here with our politics, there is no depending on anything, and that makes me wish myself out of this province. We have some fanatical spirits among us, who do everything in their power to run things to the utmost extremity, and they are gone so far, that we moderate people are under a necessity of uniting for our own defense, after being threatened with expulsion and loss of life.”2 Christie was arrested, deemed an enemy to liberty and the people of America, and, “banished from the province forever.”3 Early in the conflict, it was not realistic to be an outspoken Loyalist in most of the Baltimore and Annapolis region due to organized systems of punishment for speaking against the Patriot cause. Outspoken Loyalism was minimal in the greater Baltimore and Annapolis regions. Maryland’s Eastern Shore, on the other side of the Chesapeake Bay, was a different story.

Continue reading “Maryland Loyalists in the American Revolution: Politics, War, and Exile” →

Yorktown, Duolingo, and Putting it to the Test

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!

-à bientôt-





Rev War Revelry: Kip’s Bay and Harlem Heights

Join us this Sunday at 7pm as we ERW authors and historians Dan Welch and Mark Maloy continue their 250th anniversary coverage of the New York Campaign. They’ll chat with us about the events following the Continentals retreat from Long Island, Nathan Hale, the Turtle, the Peace Conference, and of course the fighting at Kip’s Bay and Harlem Heights. Welch and Maloy’s new book, “Conquer or Die” will be available this fall. This Revelry will be LIVE on our Facebook and You Tube pages at 7pm.

Be sure to subscribe to our You Tube Channel for hundreds of hours of free content on the American Revolutionary Era! https://www.youtube.com/@emergingrevolutionarywar8217

If ERW were one of the Founders. . . .

This week, during a conference call, someone asked Rob Orrison, Neil Chatelain, and me, “Which figure from the Revolution is ERW most like?”

Stephen Hopkins

The first person who jumped to mind was Stephen Hopkins of Rhode Island. Although none of us wears a cool hat like Hopkins does, it was easy to think of ERW as the guy in the back of the room, drinking a mug of rum or beer or grog and offering commentary on events. Hopkins had served several stints as Rhode Island’s colonial governor and served as chief justice of the colonial court during the infamous Gaspée affair. He was good natured and earnest, and John Adams said, “He kept us alive” with his energy. “Hopkins never drank to excess,” Adams said, “but all he drank was immediately not only converted into Wit, Sense, Knowledge and good humor, but inspired Us all with similar qualities.”

Or how about John Adams, as Rob suggested? (He knew I’d love that one!) Not only was Adams a writer, he was also a workhorse, like most of the regular contributors who keep ERW going—a small cadre of folks who each do a lot of work. Adams was also prickly, Rob pointed out, just as many of ERW’s folks are (a bit of self-revealing honesty there!). Adams preferred beer to cider, so I thought we’d have to swap that out, but Rob reminded me that few of us would turn down free cider.

I suggested Ben Franklin. Franklin had a background in printing and writing—something central to ERW—and was also generally good humored. He liked to have a good time—“Perhaps too good of a time,” someone in the conversation piped in—and always situated himself at the social center of any scene. ERW is, if nothing else, social. Rob did point out that Franklin was a genius in many, many areas, while ERW is pretty focused in its work, but personality wise, it’s a good match.

The question put us on the spot, so those were our initial answers. What do YOU think? If ERW was a figure from the Revolution, who would ERW be most like?

Review: “An Underappreciated Victory; Bernardo de Gálvez’s Mississippi River Campaign Against the British in 1779” by Stephen L. Kling, Jr. and Kristine L. Sjostrom

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

The 1776 New York Campaign: 250 Years Later

The New York Campaign had been building for over year by August 1776. In July 1775, previous British commander of forces in America, Thomas Gage, had sent a request to his superiors to be allowed to leave Boston and begin a new campaign in New York. Following Lexington, Concord, and Bunker Hill, Gage’s force remained bottled up and besieged in and around Boston and Charleston. When word of approval of Gage’s plan reached Boston, so too did orders relieving him of command. Before he departed for England in October 1775, he met with his successor, William Howe, and greatly stressed the importance of moving the theater of war to New York. Howe would follow Gage’s preplanning and approval to the letter, including waiting until the spring to began the shift in the army’s base of operations. Howe’s timetable, however, was moved up after the arrival of Henry Knox’s artillery train and the placement of guns on Dorchester Heights. On March 17, 1776, Howe and 11,000 troops and Loyalist citizens sailed for Nova Scotia. Foreshadowing the British departure and the location of the next campaign in a letter written two days before they set sail, Col. Joseph Reed, later George Washington’s adjutant-general, correctly asserted, “If Howe should leave Boston, we expect he will make for New York; and, at all events, we look upon that as one of the scenes of the summer business.”

Meanwhile, George Washington also looked to New York as the next seat of this growing conflict. In January he sent Charles Lee to begin laying out a position for the Continental Army to take once it shifted southward from Boston. Not long after Lee arrived in February 1776 he assured the Committee of Safety that even though he could see no way to make New York into a “tenable fortification” he could make a position strong enough to be “a most advantageous field of battle” that would “cost the enemy many thousands of men to get possession of it.” Just two months later, on April 13, Washington and the Continental Army arrived.

The Continental Army commander had no other choice than to do what he could in New York. There was immense political pressure on Washington not to abandon it, the Congress believing it had high political and psychological value. Many in Congress believed abandoning it would demoralize the Patriot cause and swell the morale of the Loyalist population in the city and colony thereof. Furthermore, it was a central location along the Atlantic coast and a conduit of communication and supplies between New England and the southern colonies via the Hudson River. Furthermore, the Hudson River/Lake Champlain corridor remained a vital passage to Canada and the Great Lakes. New York was also a bustling economic hub, the second largest urban center in the colonies, with a port, shipbuilding, and deep-water harbor had immense naval and trade value. Widely considered as the “key to the continent,” Washington would have a difficult task defend the city, it’s deep water port, and the numerous navigable waterways; all reasons the British wanted to seize the city in their effort cutoff New England from the middle and southern colonies. Writing to his brother, John Augustine Washington, between May 31 and June 4, 1776, he confessed, “We expect a very bloody Summer of it at New York . . . & I am sorry to say that we are not, either in Men, or Arms, prepared for it.”

Finally, after several months of resupplying and refitting his army in Nova Scotia, William Howe and his command arrived on Staten Island, unopposed, in June 1776. Pvt. Daniel McCurtin, 1st Company of Maryland Rifles, recorded the British arrival, noting he saw, “the whole Bay was full of shipping as ever it could be. I declare that I thought all London was afloat.”Over the coming weeks he would be joined by his brother, Richard, with large numbers of reinforcements, ships, transports, supplies, and Hessians. Although the two brothers leaned into their role of peace commissioners, attempting to end this growing rebellion through pardons and not bloodshed in July, by August, with no peaceful resolution insight, military preparations moved forward.

On August 20, 1776, British troops began loading onto ships and transports from their Staten Island camps, and 250 years ago today, August 22, 1776, the first British troops landed on Long Island at Denyse’s Ferry. Howe had chosen this site for its richness and crops and plentiful livestock in which to supply his army. Still unsure of Howe’s intentions, and constantly worried about his flank and rear being turned by the British Navy, Washington had spread his army dangerously thin across several islands with waterways separating reinforcements should the need for them arise. Thus, on August 22, Washington only had 3,000 men, John Nixon and Nathaniel Heard’s brigades, and some Long Island militia in which to contest the landing. All they could really do was raise the alarm. By the end of the day 20,000 British troops were on Long Island. Only time would tell, at least for Washington, whether or not this would be Howe’s main push or simply a diversion to another beachhead and main strike.

Learn more about the 1776 New York Campaign with ERW’s forthcoming release, Conquer or Die: The 1776 New York Campaign, by Dan Welch and Mark Maloy. Pre-order here!

Book Review: Closing the Ring, Geoge Washington’s War in the North, 1778 – 1781 by Jeffrey A. Denman

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).

Continue reading “Book Review: Closing the Ring, Geoge Washington’s War in the North, 1778 – 1781 by Jeffrey A. Denman” →

The “Battle” of Fort Thicketty

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]  

Continue reading “The “Battle” of Fort Thicketty” →