My 4th of July in Quincy, Massachusetts: Where else would I be?

ERW is pleased to welcome back guest author Marianne Holdzkom.

July 4, 2026, was a big moment for the United States. This day marked the 250th anniversary of the adoption of the Declaration of Independence, what many call the birthday of the United States. As people were making plans, the question was always, “Where do you want to spend this important anniversary?” There were certainly many fantastic choices: New York City, Boston, Philadelphia, and Colonial Williamsburg, just to name a few.  Yet I have known for a number of years where I would be. It was a no-brainer. I would spend that day in Quincy, Massachusetts. There is no place else for me. Not only was this 4th the 250th birthday of the Declaration of Independence, but it also marked the 200th anniversary of the deaths of John Adams and Thomas Jefferson—fifty years to the day that the Declaration was adopted by the Continental Congress. It was that anniversary that drew me to Quincy. As a John Adams scholar, I was compelled to be in the town where he lived and where he died. I needed to pay my respects. While others were deciding what fireworks display to see, I was on a mission: Quincy or bust!

Even when Adams was serving abroad, his hometown was never far from his thoughts. “I know not the Reason but there is some Strange Attraction between the North Parish in Braintree [now Quincy] and my Heart,” he wrote to Abigail. “It is a remarkable Spot. It has vomited Forth more Fire than Mount Etna. It has produced three mortals, Hancock and two Adams’s, who have, with the best Intentions in the World, set the World in a blaze.”[1] He was writing from Paris at the time. Now, as the locals will tell you, Quincy is full of history that goes well beyond the Adamses. From the early years of the Massachusetts Bay colony, this region has been one of the historically richest areas of the country. Even in the early colonial period, the South Shore was the center of controversy with the antics of Thomas Morton and some of the Puritan disputes of the 17th century taking place here. The city also honors the history of the Quincy family for which the town was named. In addition, Quincy is the birthplace of both Dunkin’ Donuts and Howard Johnson. There is also a Quincy Quarry and Granite Workers Museum in the city.[2] There is no doubt that the city’s history is fascinating. Yet the attraction for many is always the remarkable Adams family.  In this Semiquincentennial year, when Americans are remembering their founding moment, many of us came to Quincy to honor John Adams.

My husband, Dr. Albert J. Churella, ever the good sport about my John Adams fandom, had secured hotel reservations for us in my home from home in Quincy.  The hotel is conveniently located across the street from the Quincy North T Station and makes it easy to get around Quincy on the Red Line.  On the evening of July 3, after settling into our hotel, we rode the two T stops to Quincy Center.  From here, it is a short walk to the Hancock-Adams Common, United First Parish Church, the Adams National Historical Park Visitors Center, and the Quincy Historical Society. As we strolled to dinner, I took the time to pose with the statues of John Adams and Abigail Adams on the Common. We also visited the new John Quincy Adams statue which I had never seen. This statue and the little park surrounding it are nice additions!

The author with Quincy’s new statue of John Quincy Adams

On the morning of July 4, the big day, we arrived early at the Adams National Historical Park. We knew the temperatures would soar, and the earlier we arrived the better chance we had of getting into the historic homes. Here, we met Mr. Scott McKinley, a fellow Adams family fan, and a talented voice actor as well as scholar. It was a delight to meet him and share part of the day with him. 

The author (right) with Scott McKinley at Peacefield

As the Visitors Center opened, we took our place in line with the other people who had decided to spend part of their day with the Adamses. We were fortunate to get a condensed tour of Peacefield in the morning as the temperatures in the house were becoming unbearable. Unfortunately, I could not see the one room that really mattered to me on that day.  Reportedly, John Adams died in his upstairs study, and we were not allowed to go there due to the heat. The best thing I could do was take a picture of the staircase.  However, according to our guide, one of the staff members at the park is doing some research into the exact place of John Adams’s death. He is not convinced that it happened in the study so stay tuned. I am still grateful that I was able to be in the house, however briefly.

Staircase in Peacefield to the study

One of the special events the park planned for that day was a public reading of the Declaration of Independence. Hilary Miller, Chief of Interpretation at the park, arranged for volunteers from the audience to read portions of the Declaration.  Of course, all three of us in our party participated. It was a great way to remind ourselves of the power of those words.  While I was disappointed that there was no programming surrounding the death of John Adams on that day (that happened the following weekend), I was happy to be a part of this nod to the Declaration of Independence.

I had several nice moments that day at Adams.  I was happy to see, for example, that the park is still selling my book, Remembering John Adams: The Second President in History, Memory and Popular Culture. For an academic author, seeing one’s book on sale is always a win!  Yet the nicest gift of all that day came from Hilary Miller.  She remembered me from past visits and had something to share with me. Miller had requested a Cameo Video from William Daniels for her team as part of their July 4th celebration. She was kind enough to show it to me! The 99-year-old actor, John Adams to so many of us, recorded a wonderful tribute to the park and thanked them for all they are doing to preserve the legacy of John Adams and his family. I was touched that Hilary wanted to share that with me, knowing how much I would appreciate it.

Albert Churella, the author, and Scott McKinley

Finally, that afternoon, we arrived at United First Parish Church, or The Church of the Presidents. The church was completed in 1828 and built in part from granite donated by John Adams.  He was a life-long member of the congregation here and wished to see a “Stone Temple” built to replace the wooden meeting house in his beloved town.  He, along with Abigail, John Quincy Adams, and Louisa Catherine Adams, are buried in the church’s crypt.  This is where I had to be, more than any other place that day.  As we met up with Bill Westland, the delightful church historian who has been a tremendous help to me in my research, I prepared myself for my visit to John Adams’s grave.  I knew that I would not have a moment alone there.  That just doesn’t happen although I have never requested it.  I was just hoping to be able to shut out everything else and pay my respects.  John Adams’s words were swirling around in my brain. “Posterity! You will never know, how much it cost the present Generation, to preserve your Freedom! I hope you will make a good Use of it. If you do not, I shall repent in Heaven, that I ever took half the Pains to preserve it.”[3]  “Yet through all the gloom, I can see the rays of Ravishing Light and Glory.”[4]  Meanwhile, my husband was taking pictures of me so that I could remember the moment.  This was my chance to pay my respects. He understood how important that was to me as did Scott.

As I was standing by John Adams’s tomb, another woman came up and said that she was there to pay her respects and thank him for his service.  I was touched by this and didn’t mind sharing the moment with her. Then I had to try and put into words what I was feeling.  I looked down at the tomb and asked Mr. Adams, “What do we do now?” The woman standing with me thought that was a very good question. I asked this question because I have been struggling to see those rays of ravishing light and glory lately. I love the optimism and hope in the statement, and I remind myself daily that if John Adams could say this given what he was up against then surely I can, too. Still, I needed his help that day. However, we did not get an answer to my question. Silence. 

When you spend as much time studying a historical figure as I have John Adams, you believe that you can know how they would respond to questions or statements in conversation. I know what I wanted to communicate, and I was only getting started. Next, I said to John, “I’ve done the best I can for you and your legacy. Thank you for everything.”  It was then that I could imagine a reply. “Thank you, Madam. And I have done the best I can for you.  For all of you! What do you do now, you ask?  That is up to you. I can do no more but to wish you well!”  Fair enough, President Adams. Message received. And thank you!

Communicating with John on July 4, 2026.

Marianne Holdzkom, Professor of History at Kennesaw State University, is the author of Remembering John Adams: The Second President in History, Memory and Popular Culture. She is also an Adams Memorial Foundation Scholar.

[1] John Adams to Abigail Adams, 15 August 1782, Adams Family Papers, An Electronic Archive, Massachusetts Historical Society, https://www.masshist.org/digitaladams/archive/doc?id=L17820815ja.

[2] For the early history of this region of Massachusetts, see Nina Sankovitch, American Rebels: How the Hancock, Adams and Quincy Families Fanned the Flames of Revolution (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2020); For exhibits and resources concerning all aspects of Quincy history, visit the Quincy Historical Society and Museum, https://quincyhistory.org/; For more info on Quincy granite, see the Quincy Quarry and Granite Workers Museum, http://www.quincyquarrymuseum.org/

[3] John Adams to Abigail Adams, 26 April 1777, Adams Family Papers: An Electronic Archive, Massachuetts Historical Society, https://www.masshist.org/digitaladams/archive/doc?id=L17770426ja.

[4] John Adams to Abigail Adams, 3 July 1776, Adams Family Papers: An Electronic Archive, Massachusetts Historical Society, https://www.masshist.org/digitaladams/archive/doc?id=L17760703jasecond.

Rev War Revelry: 18th Century Military Strategy on the eve of the New York Campaign of 1776

Although the New York Campaign of 1776 was not General Nathanael Greene’s finest moments during the American Revolutionary War, he did rebound and become one of the premier military strategists by the end of the conflict. His views, learned on the field of battle, the bustle of various headquarters, and the countless miles of riding and marching on campaign was summed up when he wrote the following.

“Don’t be surprised if my movements don’t correspond with your Ideas of military propriety. War is an intricate business, and people are often saved by ways and means they least look for or expect.”

Military strategy, tactics, and the war that unfolded will be the topic of discussion on our Facebook page for Sunday, July 26, and the next “Rev War Revelry.” If you miss it, check out our YouTube and podcast channels as the program will be uploaded there next week. This program will also mark the debut of the newest full-time contributor and historian with Emerging Revolutionary War, Ben Powers. Although this “Revelry” will be taped, we wanted to give a bit more background about Ben, what he has written and projects moving forward. That way you can fill the comment section with questions about both military strategy and our newest blog historian. Ben had the following to say.

“I’m honored to share a few exciting milestones in my work with Emerging Revolutionary War.

Over the past several months, I’ve had the privilege of contributing a growing body of research to ERW, including:

• “Nathaniel Greene: Washington’s Strategist or Pioneering Operational Artist” (November 2025)
• “The Attack and Defense of the Chew House: British Professionalism at Germantown” (March 2026)
• “Brave, Meritorious, Unrewarded Kirkwood”: Unrecognized Valor in the Continental Army (April 2026)
• Review of The Wandering Army: The Campaigns That Transformed the British Way of War by Huw J. Davies (April 2026)
• “Embattled Farmers or Continentals?” (July 19, 2026)

In June, Emerging Revolutionary War welcomed me as a regular contributor. I am grateful to the editors and readers for the opportunity to participate in the outstanding scholarship and public history the organization produces.

I’m also pleased to be working with the ERW team on an upcoming volume to the Emerging Revolutionary War Series that will center on Race to the Dan/Guilford for the 250th. This is a long-term project, but I am looking forward to the journey.

Whether you’re interested in Revolutionary War history, military leadership, or operational art, I hope you’ll join us for the conversation.

Thank you to everyone who has read, shared, commented on, or challenged my work. As we celebrate America’s 250th anniversary, I look forward to continuing to learn, write, and contribute to the field.”

From Muster Roll to Lost Note: The Paper Trail of Edmund Fowler’s Revolutionary War Compensation

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Marc Lee.

At first glance, it is an unremarkable accounting ledger filled with columns of figures and financial calculations. Yet hidden among its entries is the story of a Revolutionary War soldier whose compensation claim continued to circulate through Connecticut’s bureaucracy years after the fighting had ended. The surviving manuscript, together with wartime muster rolls and treasury records, allows us to follow Edmund Fowler’s claim from military service to a replacement for a lost note, revealing how the Revolution’s paperwork could outlive the war itself.[i]

The document at the center of this story is an Invoice of Officers’ and Soldiers’ Notes, Payable June 1783, a manuscript created as Connecticut settled the financial obligations left by the Revolutionary War. Rather than recording the service of a single soldier, the ledger summarizes military notes issued to officers and enlisted men, listing an aggregate amount exceeding £10,700 and bearing a notation that the account was “charged July 9, 1784.” At first glance, it appears to be little more than a routine accounting record.[ii]

Figure 1. Invoice of Officers’ and Soldiers’ Notes, Payable June 1783, showing the original heading and later accounting calculations.

A closer examination tells a different story. The manuscript remained in active use long after it was first prepared. While the principal heading and endorsements were written in one hand, later calculations were added in a different ink and by a different hand, indicating that officials returned to the account years after the notes first became payable.[iii]

Those physical clues reveal an important reality about the Revolution’s aftermath. Paying veterans was not accomplished through a single transaction. Military service had to be verified, financial obligations reconciled, and documentary evidence maintained as claims moved through the state’s accounting system. What appears to be an ordinary ledger therefore preserves part of the administrative machinery that transformed wartime service into recognized financial compensation.

Among the many entries associated with Connecticut’s officers’ and soldiers’ notes is one that allows this broader process to be examined on a human scale. Through a series of surviving military and treasury records, the documentary trail of Revolutionary War veteran Edmund Fowler can be followed from his wartime muster rolls to the postwar administration of his compensation claim, offering a rare glimpse into how one soldier’s service continued to generate paperwork long after the fighting had ended.[iv]

The ledger identifies many officers and enlisted soldiers, but one name stands out because his surviving records extend well beyond this single document. Edmund Fowler appears in a series of Connecticut military records that preserve different stages of his wartime service, allowing his postwar compensation to be traced across several distinct record groups.[v]

Continue reading “From Muster Roll to Lost Note: The Paper Trail of Edmund Fowler’s Revolutionary War Compensation” →

“In the Ranks of the Revolution: James Johnston’s War” Part II

Part I

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historians Lori Amos Doss & Jarred Marlowe

Part 2: A Veteran in the Southern Campaign and the Road to Yorktown

In early 1781, after years of nearly continuous service, James Johnston finally set out for home on furlough. It must have been a long-awaited journey. Yet before he could reach his destination, events once again pulled him back into the war.

While passing through Prince Edward County, Virginia, Johnston learned of the difficult situation facing General Nathanael Greene in the South. British forces under Lord Cornwallis were pressing hard, and Greene’s army was in poor condition. Supplies were scarce, clothing was inadequate, and many of the soldiers were inexperienced militia. Previous defeats at Charleston and Camden had weakened the Continental presence in the region, leaving Greene with a force that struggled to match the discipline of British regulars.

Johnston understood the danger. Rather than continue home, he took action. Drawing on his experience in the northern campaigns, he recruited twelve veteran soldiers who had completed their terms of service. Together, they traveled south to join Greene. Their arrival was timely. Greene assigned them as adjutants to officers commanding Virginia militia, where their role was to help bring order and discipline to units that often lacked both.

Time was short. Cornwallis was advancing, and a major confrontation was approaching. Johnston worked to train the militia as best he could, instilling in them the habits and expectations of seasoned soldiers. The results became clear at the Battle of Guilford Court House on March 15, 1781.

Greene arranged his army in three lines. The North Carolina militia formed the first, the Virginia militia the second, and Continental regulars the third. When the British advanced, the North Carolina militia broke quickly, some retreating without firing. The Virginia militia, however, held their ground. They fought with determination and inflicted significant casualties on the advancing British.

Although Greene eventually ordered a withdrawal, the battle came at a high cost for Cornwallis. His army suffered heavy losses, weakening his campaign in the South. Later observers noted the steadiness of the Virginia militia, and some accounts credited Johnston and his fellow veterans with helping prepare them for that moment.

After the battle, Johnston returned home at last, reuniting briefly with his family after years away. But the war was not yet finished, and his rest did not last long. Within days, he learned that Lafayette was now operating in Virginia and facing British forces under William Phillips and Benedict Arnold. Once again, Johnston chose to return to service.

Continue reading ““In the Ranks of the Revolution: James Johnston’s War” Part II” →

Thomas Jefferson on July 4, 1776

The rebuilt Jacob Graff House

July 4, 1776 was not an unusual day when it began for Thomas Jefferson. It started off as any normal Thursday. Jefferson documented that he woke up around at dawn on the second floor of the Jacob Graff House at the corner of Market and 7th Streets. He spent the morning shopping in nearby Philadelphia stores. He documented the temperature that day at an ironic high of 76 degrees (much cooler than the expected 100+ degree heat on July 4, 2026). As he perused the stores on Philadelphia that morning, he purchased seven thermometers as well as women’s gloves. Jefferson also noted donating one shilling six pence to charity.

Jefferson was on hand as the Second Continental Congress convened at 9:00am in the Assembly Room of the Pennsylvania State House. The day before, Jefferson sat through discussion on editing his draft of the Declaration of Independence. He would also spend this morning listening to others editing down his document by one-third. Jefferson took great offense to the edits and preserved his original draft for posterity.

Jefferson used this chair in the Graff House to write the declaration. Today the chair is on display at the American
Philosophical Society

After some time spent finishing the edits to Jefferson’s Declaration, the Congress approved the document later that morning. Congress then ordered local printer John Dunlap to print 200 copies of the Declaration now known as the “Dunlap Broadsides.” Dunlap worked quickly to set his printer’s type and began printing the copies the night of July 4th. For Jefferson and the other members of Congress, the rest of the day was spent on various items around defense, relations with native tribes and other committee work. No noted celebration of the occasion of passing the Declaration. Congress also directed John Adams, Benjamin Franklin and Thomas Jefferson to design a new “Great Seal” for the new nation. [2]

It was not until later in life did men such as Adams and Jefferson give the day its prominence in American ethos. Though Adams called on Americans to celebrate July 2, today we celebrate the day that the Declaration was adopted. Both days are surely worth their own celebrations.

[1] – Jefferson the Virginian by Dumas Malone, pg. 229.

[2] – Letters of Delegate of the First and Second Continental Congresses,1774-1789. edited by Edmund C. Burnett

“Separation Day”

Have you ever heard of the popular saying, “No good deed goes unpunished?”

I wonder if there is a reverse to that, especially when it comes to stumbling into history?

Earlier in June, my uncle needed to go out of town and wanted someone to watch his house and two cats. He resides outside of Wilmington, Delaware. Thinking mid-June would be a good time to catch some of the historical sites in Philadelphia on the brink of the 250th in July, and with World Cup soccer games being played in the same city, even better.

I planned to go into the “City of Brotherly Love” one day, but thought the other day I would just drive around Wilmington and New Castle and see what I could discover. A day with no set plans. And that is when I stumbled into “Separation Day” in New Castle.

Continue reading ““Separation Day”” →

Congress Establishes the Board of War and Ordnance

The United States Army traces its birthday back to June 14, 1775—the date the Second Congressional Congress voted to adopt the New England army then encircling the British in Boston.

Almost a year later to the day—June 12, 1776—the Congress voted to establish the Board of war and Ordnance, the precursor to today’s Department of Defense.[1] One could therefore make the argument that June 12, 2026, is the 250th birthday of the department. At the very least, one could directly trace the department’s ancestry back that far.

Congress voted to establish the board in response to pressure from Gen. George Washington, who desperately needed help managing the logistics of feeding, clothing, arming, equipping, and otherwise supplying the army. He spent at least as much time begging (in a dignified but humble way) various colonies for support as he did planning and executing military strategy and tactics. Supply worries were never far from his mind. “The reflection upon my Situation, & that of this Army, produces many an uneasy hour when all around me are wrapped in Sleep . . .” he wrote a confidant.[2]

But because everything about the Continental government was voluntary, that meant colonies—soon to be states—did not have to comply with Washington’s requests, let alone any Congressional resolutions. Colonies chronically undershot troop quotas and financial contributions.

Naivety ran high in those heady, early days of the war. Colonies believed militia, rather than a trained professional army, could somehow win the war. Their “patriotic spirit” would be enough to overcome the discipline and experience of the British army and its hired mercenaries. Even members of Congress, tied more regularly to military affairs through Washington’s correspondence, bought into the idea.

“You think the present army assisted by the militia is sufficient to oppose the force of Great Britain, formidable as it appears on paper,” one of Washington’s key confidents, Gen. Nathaniel Greene, told Congress in early June. He assured them they were “greatly deceived.”[3]

The creation of the Board of War did much to make the scales fall from Congressional eyes. It did so by bringing key members of Congress more directly into the management of the war.

Continue reading “Congress Establishes the Board of War and Ordnance” →

The Burning of “Madam Souchong” and the Women of Providence Who Burned Her

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Bjorn Bruckshaw

On a chilly but sunlit afternoon in Providence, smoke began to rise over Market Square—not from hearth fires meant to warm the town, but from a blaze built in defiance. As the smell of burning tar and tea drifted through the streets, cheers and shouts of defiance echoed through the square. Nearby, a man moved quickly from shop to shop, brush and lampblack in hand. One by one, he painted over a single word on storefront signs: TEA. This was no act carried out in secret. According to the Providence Gazette, he was “a spirited Son of Liberty,” and he worked in full view of the town as a crowd gathered around the growing fire.¹  

Just beyond him, the protest had already begun.

Earlier that day, a town crier had moved through Providence announcing that a quantity of India tea would be burned in the Market Square that afternoon, calling upon “all true friends of their country, lovers of freedom, and haters of shackles and hand-cuffs” to assemble and cast the tea into the flames.² By the appointed hour, the square was filled. This was no spontaneous outburst. It was organized, deliberate, and intended to be seen.

At the center of the gathering, flames climbed upward as a barrel of tar was placed upon the fire. Into it were thrown not only tea—hundreds of pounds of it—but also printed copies of Lord North’s speech and other “obnoxious English papers.” ³ the destruction was more than economic protest. It was a public repudiation of British authority itself. And then came the moment that set Providence apart.

These were not men disguised as Mohawk Indians, shrouded in secrecy under the cover of night as in Boston. This was something different—an open, public act carried out in daylight. At its center stood the women of Providence, dressed in everyday clothing, without disguise, stepping forward with the same patriotism and candor to cast the tea into the flames before the gathered town.⁴

In that moment, the Providence Gazette captured one of the most remarkable features of the event, noting that the tea was “fed to the fire by the women of the town.”⁵ Women, long central to colonial resistance through boycotts and the management of household consumption, now stood in the public square, actively participating in the destruction itself. This was not quiet resistance confined to the home. It was visible, communal, and unmistakable.

The prominence of women in the Providence protest did not go unnoticed beyond Rhode Island. In Virginia, the event was reported in the Virginia Gazette, where the destruction of tea was described in strikingly gendered and satirical terms. The article referred to the event as the “funeral of Madam Souchong,” personifying the tea as a female figure while simultaneously reinforcing contemporary stereotypes about women.⁶ In doing so, the report transformed the protest into a symbolic spectacle, revealing how acts of resistance in one colony could be interpreted—and reshaped—by observers in another.

Rhode Island had already established itself as one of the most defiant colonies in British North America. Its long-standing resistance to imperial regulation, fueled by its maritime economy and frequent clashes with customs enforcement, made it a persistent source of frustration for British authorities. Loyalist observers took note. Writing during the conflict, Peter Oliver described resistance in New England as the work of “lawless men” driven by mob influence, portraying their actions as rooted in disorder rather than lawful opposition.⁷ British officials expressed similar concerns in the aftermath of the Gaspee Affair, viewing the destruction of the customs schooner as a “daring insult to the authority of the Crown” and evidence that resistance in Rhode Island had reached a dangerous level.⁸ In June 1772, that defiance became unmistakable when local patriots burned the Gaspee, a British vessel sent to enforce imperial law.

The British response only deepened colonial fears. Officials threatened to transport suspected participants to England for trial, raising concerns about the erosion of traditional rights and legal protections.⁹ In Rhode Island, the lesson was clear: British authority was not only intrusive but increasingly dangerous.

Continue reading “The Burning of “Madam Souchong” and the Women of Providence Who Burned Her” →

That Chess Story

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Michael Aubrecht

If one was to define the life and legacy of Colonel Johann Gottlieb Rall (Rahl) they may use the term “victim of circumstance.” His is the ironic tale of a military man, whose stubborn nature and bad luck resulted in an untimely death. As the commander of the Hessian Troops garrisoned at Trenton New Jersey, Rall was the unfortunate recipient of General George Washington’s surprise attack that followed his brilliant crossing of the Delaware River on Christmas night in 1776.

There have been many different versions of this story, but a reexamination of the events by modern military historians has yielded a more redeeming conclusion to Rall’s defeat. Whereas it was once believed that the Hessian troops were celebrating the holiday and simply too intoxicated to properly defend the garrison and themselves, experts now believe that Rall and a sober regiment of German soldiers may have underestimated the resolve of their adversaries.

One aspect of this story that hasn’t changed took place prior to the attack…

A young boy had been given a spy report from a local Loyalist with directions to deliver it to a Hessian colonel who was in occupation of the City of Trenton. The note, written in English, was intended to inform the commander that the Continental Army was crossing the river and planning to attack. It is said that the colonel did not want to be interrupted during his Chess game (some say cards), so he put the unread note in his pocket. The story concludes with the note being found, still in his pocket, unopened, after he died in battle.

As both a Chess and Rev-War aficionado, I decided to do a little research into this specific part of the story to see what information was available. What I found was completely different than I had originally anticipated.

Continue reading “That Chess Story” →

“In the Ranks of the Revolution: James Johnston’s War”

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historians Lori Amos Doss & Jarred A. Marlowe, bios follow part one.

Part 1: From Charlotte County to Washington’s Guard

James Johnston was born in Charlotte County, Virginia, around 1756, though no exact record of his birth has survived. Like many Revolutionary War soldiers, much of his early life remains in shadow. Even the identities of his parents are uncertain, despite Johnston referring to them in later accounts. What we do know begins in November 1776, when he made the decision to leave home and enlist in the Continental Army for a three-year term.

He joined the 14th Virginia Regiment under Colonel Charles Lewis and soon marched north to join George Washington’s army at Morristown, New Jersey. At that stage of the war, the Continental Army was still finding its footing. Enlistments were short, supplies were inconsistent, and discipline varied widely from unit to unit. Yet within a matter of months, Johnston distinguished himself.

On May 1, 1777, he was selected for the Commander in Chief’s Guard, an elite corps formed to protect Washington personally, as well as the army’s funds and official documents. This was one of the most trusted assignments in the army. Officers were instructed to select men known for their honesty, sobriety, and reliability. Washington also had a preference for appearance, requesting soldiers who were well built, neat, and presentable. Johnston’s selection tells us a great deal about how he was viewed by those who knew him. He was not simply capable. He was dependable.

Continue reading ““In the Ranks of the Revolution: James Johnston’s War”” →