Join us this Sunday at 7 pm as we welcome Saratoga historian Lauren Roberts. Lauren will discuss with us the upcoming as we discuss their upcoming Women in War Symposium and Bus Tour hosted by the Saratoga County 250th Commission. The third Annual Women in War Symposium will be held on May 4, from 8:15 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. at the Old Saratoga American Legion Post, located at 6 Clancy St. As an enhancement to the Symposium, a bus tour of historic sites will be offered on May 5.
Lauren will also discuss some of the topics being covered at the Symposium and some of the diverse history in Saratoga that relates to the American Revolution. We all know about the Battle of Freeman’s Farm and Bemis Heights, but how many know about the “witch of Saratoga”? Grab a drink and join us this Sunday night at 7pm on our Facebook page for a fun and insightful discussion into the great work that Saratoga County is doing to commemorate “America’s Turning Point.”
As we move towards to the 250th anniversary of the Boston Tea Party, we at ERW have gotten a lot of questions with a central theme…” why was it tea that led to revolution?” Was tea so central to colonial life that it was worth risking war or was it something else? The answer is somewhere in the middle and as with most history, there is nuance to the story (and yes, tea WAS a big part of everyday live in British America).
On May 10, 1773, Parliament passed the Tea Act, this act was a way for the British government to help bail out a major corporation, the British East India Company. The British East India Company was one of the largest global companies and faced immense debt and financial trouble. Furthering their troubles, they held a large amount of tea stored in warehouses in London. The British East India Company sought a way to offload this tea, which was considered some of the best tea in the world. The company’s success was directly tied to Great Britain’s international strategy, as the company spread British influence across the globe especially in India where they basically managed the British colony. The Tea Act reduced the cost on the tea (cutting out the “middleman” in Great Britain), and now the colonists could buy the tea directly from the British East India Company.
The British colonies in North America consumed on average of 1.2 million pounds of black tea annually. In 1773, about 1/3 of the population drank tea at least twice a day. It was a common luxury among most middle- and upper-class colonists. They preferred black tea but also drank green tea. Black tea varieties included Bohea, Congou and Souchong and common green tea varieties included Singlo and Hyson. All the tea that the British East India Company sold was grown and imported from China. Tea from China was preferred by most for better flavor, but it tended to be more expensive. The North American colonies consumed a lot of smuggled tea from the Dutch, the quality of the tea was not the same but much cheaper. A large market grew for smuggled tea with most British port officials looking the other way. All of this changed when the Tea Act was passed.
Nineteenthcentury lithograph depicting a tea plantation in Qing China
Many in Parliament believed the colonists would have little opposition to this new act. They could now purchase their preferred tea for a cheaper price than the smuggled tea from the Netherlands. Unfortunately for Royal leaders, this was not the case. As word reached the colonies Whig leaders such as Samuel Adams called it nothing more than a British authorized monopoly of the tea market, cutting into the pockets of colonial merchants (though their tea smuggling business was illegal to begin with). The Tea Act also highlighted a British policy that the colonists opposed for many years, the Townshend Acts. The Townshend Acts imposed duties on imported lead, glass, paper, paint, and tea. This “tax” was payable at ports and funded the salaries of colonial judges, governors, and other government officials. This angered many colonial leaders for two reasons. First, it levied another tax on the colonists without having their own representation in Parliament. Secondly, it made the government officials more beholden to the British government (and the tax) than the colonial governments.
Whig groups like the Sons of Liberty used local taverns as places for their meetings. The most famous being the Green Dragon Tavern in Boston. It no longer stands today.
As the news of the Tea Act reached the colonies, the reaction was mixed. Whig leaders in major cities such as Charleston, New York, Philadelphia and Boston saw it as a way to reinvigorate their cause of opposing British rule. Recently things were mostly quiet with little interest by the public for protest. But now the Whig spin machine went into full affect. The Tea Act was a direct affront to colonial self-rule and economic interest. The taxes paid for the tea went to British officials in the colonies and the cheaper priced (and better quality) tea would put many American merchants out of business. Whigs were able to control the message that the Tea Act was just another way for Parliament to make money off the colonists, who did not have representation in Parliament.
As part of the Tea Act, consignees were appointed to oversee the sale of tea and the collection of the taxes on behalf of the British East India Company. As the tea began to arrive in colonial ports, public pressure was put on consignees to resign. This pressure was successful in New York, Philadelphia and in Charleston. Each of these cities were able to either stop the tea from being offloaded or, as in the case of Charleston, they confiscated the tea and didn’t allow any duties to be paid on it. All of these were direct affronts to the law but the events in Boston proved to be the most dramatic.
Ca, 1780 view of Charleston Harbor, and the Exchange Building where the confiscated tea was locked away by Whig leaders.
Unlike in other port cities, the consignees in Boston refused to resign. Richard Clarke, leading merchant in Boston and one of consignees faced a mob at his warehouse trying to pressure him and the other consignees to resign. Encouraged by the Massachusetts Governor Thomas Hutchinson (who had two sons serving as tea consignees) to stand their ground, the consignees refused to resign. Soon news arrived that the first ship carrying the tea, the Dartmouth, was arriving in Boston soon.
Hosting several town meetings, some hosting thousands of people, Whig leaders such as Samuel Adams, Dr. Joseph Warren and John Hancock were able to organize a strong opposition to the tea. Of course, Boston was already a tinderbox due to the “Boston Massacre” in 1770 and the large contingent of British regular troops stationed in Boston. Bostonians were reminded daily of Royal influence. The Whigs protested to the Governor to order the ships to return to England, but Hutchinson refused to do so and claimed he didn’t have that authority. Many historians believed Hutchinson, who recently had resigned as Governor and was awaiting his replacement, had grown tired and frustrated with the likes of the Whigs and Sons of Liberty in Boston and was trying to press the issue.
On November 28, the Dartmouth arrived in Boston Harbor. Captain James Hall was turned away at the first wharf he sailed too and was redirected to Griffins Wharf. Everyone knew that once a ship entered the harbor, the captain had twenty days to unload the cargo and pay the custom duties. Soon two more ships arrived at Griffins Wharf with more tea. With the Governor refusing to allow the ships to leave the harbor and local patrols watching the ships to make sure the tea was not offloaded, the stage was set for December 16th, the last day the ship’s captains had to unload their cargo.
Join us this Sunday night at 7pm as we welcome Glenn F. Williams, PhD to our popular Sunday night Rev War Revelry! Glenn will examine the political and economic causes of the American Revolution beginning at the end of the Seven Years War / French and Indian War through the resistance movements. He will dispel or clarify some of the popular beliefs about the grievances that eventually led the thirteen colonies to break with the Mother Country. This will be a timely discussion as we approach the 250th anniversary of the Boston Tea Party. Glenn Williams is a retired U.S. Army officer that until recently also enjoyed a “second career” as a military historian. He retired as a senior Historian after 18 years at the U.S. Army Center of Military History and 3 1/2 years as the historian of the American Battlefield Protection Program of the U.S. National Park Service.
Grab your favorite drink and tune in, we will be live so feel free to drop your questions in the live chat. If you are not able to tune in on Sunday, the video will be placed on our You Tube and podcast channels.
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Kate Bitely.
In the heart of Fredericksburg, Virginia, you will find a well-preserved, Georgian-style home that once belonged to Betty Washington Lewis, the sister of George Washington. Historic Kenmore, as the home is known today, was constructed in the 1770s and originally sat on 861 acres near downtown Fredericksburg. Today, the historic house museum is open for daily tours where guests can explore the gardens, the main living floor of the home, several historic structures on the priority, and a visitor center filled with riveting artifacts and information.
Nearly 290 years ago, Betty Washington was born at Pope’s Creek in Westmoreland County, Virginia. As a young child, she lived in a few properties owned by the Washington family before relocating to Ferry Farm, located in Stafford County, Virginia, where Betty, George and their siblings grew up. On February 22, 1750, Betty married Fielding Lewis, a widowed distant cousin, and a father of two young children. In 1752, the family purchased 1300 acres in the Fredericksburg area and allocated a portion of the land as the future site for their home Millbrook, which was eventually renamed to Kenmore in the 1800’s. In total, Betty and Fielding welcomed eleven children, but only six survived to adulthood.
Fielding Lewis was a well-known member of his community. He built his wealth initially as a merchant, but was later elected as a member of the House of Burgesses and served as a colonel in the Revolutionary War. During the war, however, Lewis used his finances to personally pay for munitions and supplies for Patriot troops which ultimately drained much of the family’s resources.
The Lewis family were staunch Patriots. In 1775, when the Lewis’s were moving into their home, the spirit of independence was strong throughout the colonies. Given the Washington’s status, heritage and devotion to service, Betty and her family would become one of the biggest supporters for the Patriot cause, willing to risk their home, finances, reputation, and their safety in favor of breaking away from England. The impressive residence served as a visual representation of their wealth, which became significantly more important during the Revolutionary War.
Thirteen of the Great Britain’s North American colonies moved toward independence in 1775, declaring the fact officially the following year with the issuance of the Declaration of Independence. Perched below these thirteen rebellious provinces was the colony of East Florida. Earned after the Seven Year’s War by Great Britain from Spain, the most populous city an oldest permanently established European metropolis was St. Augustine, which was also the capital of the colony. This colony, through the eight years of the American Revolutionary War, had a tenuous connection with their neighbors to the north. Largely forgotten in the pantheon of history describing this period, from the time of Britain gaining possession in 1763 through the end of the Revolutionary era in this historian’s estimation, in 1785.
Entitled, East Florida in the Revolutionary Era, 1763-1785 and penned by George Kotlik, a historian specializing in 18th century North American history, the publication offers “an accessible and detailed narrative of the East Florida during the American Revolution.” (pg. 8).
What ensues in the following pages is a brief yet complete overview of the military, political, social, and economic history within those years of East Florida. Some of the names in the pages are well known to enthusiasts of the American Revolutionary War era whereas others will be new names to add to the repertoire for further study. From Governor Patrick Tonyn, British general and last governor for England of East Florida to bringing attention to the William Augustus Bowles, a Maryland born Loyalist, sympathetic to the Muscogee Native Americans of East Florida who tried in vain from the last decade of the 18th century, to establish an independent state for the tribe, with British support. These are just two of the historical personas that Kotlik discusses in his narrative, the rest await you within the pages of the book!
Although no major military actions happened within the confines of the colony that does not mean the role of East Florida in relation to the American Revolution should not be marginalized. “Militias were raised, a general assembly was postponed, St. Augustine experienced a heightened British troop presence, planters between the St. Johns and St. Marys Rivers suffered at the hands of George raiding parties, and a constant threat of a Spanish or American invasion” all affected the psyches and lives of East Floridians. (pg. 104-105).
The hope from Kotlik is to provide the launching point for further discussion into the role of East Florida specifically and Florida in general during the revolutionary period. “Such a lack of coverage is a reminder for scholars to to emphasize East Florida’s presence in the war that made America.” (pg. 111). With this history in hand, Kotlik has provided the necessary overview for further exploration.
Publisher: NewSouth Books, University of Georgia Press, 2023 156 pages plus images
Parson Weems’ Fable; by Grant Wood, Amon Carter Museum of American Art, Fort Worth, Texas
George Washington’s lifetime family associations, primarily his Ball family relations, were relied on byWashington’s first biographer Parson Weems. James Bish’s new book “I Can’t Tell A Lie” looks into the Washington and Ball family associations, along with Weems’ family associations. Relying on these close associations, he identifies the sources for Weems’ many anecdotes regarding Washington. Mr Bish will also focus on the many Revolutionary War connections including The Prayer at Valley Forge, Dr James Craik, Col. William Grayson, John Cadwalader, Henry Lee II and Henry Lee lll.
Be sure to grab a drink, join us to learn a new theory about the Cherry Tree, Washington’s Prayer at Valley Forge and other Parson Weems’ anecdotes, in this interesting work about Parson Mason Weems and George Washington.
We interact with history at a personal level in many ways. We enjoy careers in the field, read, tour locations, work as living historians (or interact with them), dig through archives, trace our roots, visit museums, or simply stumble across some connection in the course of living our daily lives. But, a fortuitous bit of family history struck on a recent weekend, just shy of the 241st anniversary of a battle.
My wife and oldest daughter spent a Sunday morning with my in-laws to visit and record some family stories and memories. They came back with a box of material. The first document they perused was a 19thcentury application for membership in the Daughters of the American Revolution. I was in a different room and suddenly heard yelling as my wife came to find me. I assumed a snake had gotten into the house or we’d won the lottery without playing. It turned out that the DAR applicant, a direct forebear of both my wife and daughter, was descended from Nicholas Dawson, who had fought in the Crawford Campaign, which happened to be the subject of my second book, The Battle of Upper Sandusky, 1782. (Shameless bit of self-promotion: it just went on sale). Talk about coincidence.
Many volunteer actions on the frontier during the American Revolution lacked troop rosters. But, to stimulate volunteering for the Crawford campaign the county lieutenants for Pennsylvania’s Washington and Westmoreland counties offered to count the time on campaign against a volunteer’s legal militia obligations. So, they created rosters, some of which partially survived. The Pennsylvania Archives published that material. Sure enough, Nicholas Dawson shows up as a miscellaneous volunteer, meaning only that the roster didn’t include his company assignment. The ever-helpful Fold3 database also holds pension debt certificates issued to Dawson on January 18and 20, 1785.
The Mary Ball Washington Monument and grave site, Fredericksburg, VA
Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms out there! In honor of Mother’s Day, Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes will be welcoming historians and staff from the Washington Heritage Museums to tonight’s Rev War Revelry. WHM manages and operates the home and grave site of Mary Ball Washington, the mother of George Washington located in Fredericksburg, VA.
The relationship between George Washington and his mother has been of interest in historians. Their relationship was complicated and much debated by Washington contemporaries and historians today. Mary never remarried when her husband passed (rare for the time period) and mostly lived on her own in Fredericksburg. She also was not afraid to complain about her lack of resources and once applying to the Virginia General Assembly for financial support (to much frustration from George Washington). We will cover many of the myths and interpretations of Mary and her relationship with her son.
So grab a drink and join us as we discuss Mary Ball Washington, her relationship with her son George and what the Washington Heritage Museums are doing today to interpret and preserve her story. Our revelry tonight is previously recorded so we could spend time with the mom’s in our life, but as always we will respond to any comments and questions posted.
Emerging Revolutionary War thanks historian Christian Di Spignafor the picture.
With the release of the motion picture, Air, about the recruitment to Nike of Michael Jordan in the 1980s, Emerging Revolutionary War wanted to bring our readers attention to an older model of a shoe. That predates Nike by a century and a half. But, who knows, could come into vogue again right?
The Marquis de Lafayette returned to the United States in August 1824 to September 1825 and toured all 24 states at the time. Feted as a living link to the American Revolution and the independence movement, he was dined, celebrated, and asked to speak at many, many events. Commemorative items were created in his image and likeness, including, apparently a pair of shoes.
These shoes can be viewed today at Old Sturbridge Village in Massachusetts. A link to their website and to plan a visit can be found here.
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Werther Young.
I’m Too Sexy for My…Bavarian Fly
By Werther Young
Of all of the unique things that have managed to make it to the internet, a concise history of colonial men’s pants flies is surprisingly not one of them.
Our story begins in the Renaissance in, where else, France. King Henry III of France eschewed the old-fashioned dress and hose and embraced a new fashion, culottes, now known as “knee breeches.”
Henry III in his dress and hose
Henry III in his tony new culottes.
The fly of Henry’s pants was a simple affair, a rectangular panel sewn to the left side with buttonholes that buttoned over the right. This simple and practical design became known as the “French fly” and became almost universal in Western Europe over the next 60 years.
Ann Bonny the pirate, in French fly trousers, ca. 1721.
Over time, Ann Bonny’s “long” French fly was perfected into the “short” French fly. Anne’s fly extends from the inseam to the waistband. By merely sewing a few inches of the front seam together, the fly can be made shorter, removing a buttonhole and button or two.
These fly designs apparently did not reach into Eastern Europe, where presumably leather pants were as expensive as wool ones but lasted much longer, because they were never washed. Translating the French Fly into leather posed some problems, and so these leather pants had a different fly, essentially a hole in the center front with a panel buttoned over it that flipped or dropped up and down as necessary. This design caught on in the Alpine areas of central Europe, and especially in Bavaria under the label of “Lederhosen,” which is German for “leather pants.”
“Short” French Fly Breeches, ca. 1750.
The Bavarian fly migrated further north, as in the Deutsches Museum in Berlin can be found a pair of enlisted trousers from the mid-1700s, with a half drop front fly; that is, it opens only the right side. This is essentially a cheaper fly, because it needs only one button to close, and does the same thing.
By the middle 1700s, the French fly had been around for over 150 years, and someone in France started a different fashion (and outdoing the Huns) by putting the two -opening Bavarian fly on culottes, thus making the culottes “a la Bavarois,” French for “like the Bavarians.” This was runway level high fashion for the time, and quickly spread among the well to do as the latest thing, with a new name, the “drop front” or “fall front” fly. Unfortunately, translating the design from leather, which does not unravel, to fabric, which does, made the Bavarian fly extremely complicated and therefore expensive. This of course added to its cachet, so much so that by 1775, it had reached the aristocracy even in the backwater of Colonial America.
Lederhosen
Colonial Williamsburg has a fabulous collection of high-status men’s pants from the 18th century. A survey thereof shows the number of French flies waning into the 1770s, and the number of Bavarian drop front flies waxing beginning in 1775, reaching a height about 1800. Unfortunately, these are all very high-status garments, such as a pair of “button front breeches of cream-colored silk velvet, with repeat of small pink and green flowers self-covered buttons, those at knee embroidered with metallic silver thread. Silver galloon strap at knee.” But did the states and Continent really issue enlisted soldiers what amounts to hand made Givenchy trousers? Of course not.
The false idea that they did partially comes from a series of paintings done by Charles M. Lefferts in the early 1900s, later published as Uniforms of the Armies in the War of the American Revolution, 1775–1783. in 1926.
A Lefferts rendering of trousers a la Bavarois, 2d Maryland 1777.
Measuring this man’s height against the known length of his musket makes him about 6’4 inches tall, the height of actors Clint Walker, Chuck Connors, Clint Eastwood, and the average NBA basketball player. If you look below the point of his vest, he is wearing drop front pants over his massive thighs. Curiously, he is also wearing a 1760s style skirted vest and long regimental coat. Are we to believe that Maryland issued its men old fashioned vests and coats, but high fashion breeches? Since Lefferts was born in 1873, he had no first-hand knowledge of his subject, we must look to period images.
Alas, these are of little help. It is difficult to discern whether any of the men in period paintings are wearing French Fly pants, Bavarian drop front pants, or anything else. The most informative images, the von German drawings, are unfortunately from the side, and of no help.
Von German “American Soldier” New York Hist Soc.
Amerikanische Scharfschutz, Brown University
Since information is so scarce, we must turn to the other reason we believe that rev war soldiers wore drop front pants. Klinger’s Sketchbook ’76. Page 9 shows a pair of Bavarian drop front breeches, based on George Washington’s uniform in the Smithsonian, and Lt. Col. Tench Tilghman’s uniform from the Maryland Historical Society. This is odd, because Washington’s uniform is from the 1794, 15 years after the war and at the height of the drop front craze. Tilghman was the scion of a blue blood family, owned half of Baltimore, was an aide to Washington, and hobnobbed with Lafayette. Even if his uniform can be dated to the war years, it is not only a high-status uniform, but one of the highest status possible in America at the time; his not wearing Bavarian trousers would be of greater note. Neither are evidence that any of the 13 colonies nor the Continent paid to make their enlisted men such high fashion trousers.
On Sketchbook page11, Klinger bases his Bavarian drop front overalls on unspecified plates in “Bernard’s History of England” and the images above. While these may establish Bavarian drop front flies supplied by the King George, it certainly does not necessarily mean that the colonies were doing so.
Surprisingly, two pairs of enlisted overalls are known to exist, mistakenly labelled as “Pantaloons,” and residing in the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Costume Department. These are exquisitely made, and probably military examples, but unfortunately European, and from 1793 and later.
No credible evidence exists that any of the 13 colonies nor the Continent issued its troops Bavarian drop front pants. This makes sense, as that design is difficult to make, does the exact same thing as the simple French fly, and fashionable pants do not really contribute much extra to Liberty. Additionally, with all but the highest status clothiers making French fly pants, retraining them to cut out and make the new design would seriously impede production, even assuming that patterns and training could be somehow provided from Georgia to Vermont at a time when the men could barely be supplied a musket or shirt. In the War of the Revolution, the colonists were by all indications wearing French fly breeches and overalls, not drop front ones a la Bavarois.