Few areas have such a concentration of Revolutionary War history, and natural beauty, as New York’s Hudson Highlands. Just twenty miles above the upper reaches of New York City, a traveler enters a different world, one of rugged mountains, spectacular views, and the mighty Hudson River.
The Hudson Highlands were a key area during the Revolution, linking New England to the rest of the states. Supplies, troops, and information flowed through here throughout the conflict. Both sides endeavored to control it. Journeying north a traveler finds several important historic sites from the Revolution.
Every so often news stories arise about popular symbols of the American Revolutionary War that are used by various people to promote modern political agendas. One prominent symbol is the yellow flag with a coiled rattlesnake and the words “Don’t Tread on Me” below it. This flag, often referred to as the Gadsden flag, has a fascinating history dating back to the Revolutionary War.
The first real use of the snake representing the colonies begins before the Revolutionary War, during the French and Indian War, when Benjamin Franklin created a cartoon using a snake to represent the various colonies each separated from one another with the words “Join, or Die” under the image. This was an effort to get the various colonies to unite for common defense during that time period.
By the time of the Revolutionary War in 1775, the symbol had become a solitary rattlesnake, coiled and ready to strike often accompanied by the warning “Don’t Tread on Me.” Christopher Gadsden, a prominent South Carolina patriot, served in the Continental Congress and designed the yellow flag as a naval ensign. Beginning in 1776 the flag was hung up in the room where Congress met in Philadelphia and because it was designed by Gadsden, it became known as the Gadsden flag.
On this date 266-years ago, the infamous Massacre at Fort William Henry took place along the southern shore of Lake George, New York. After a week-long siege by the Marquis de Montcalm’s army of French Regulars, Canadians, and Native Allies, the British and Provincial garrison inside and outside the walls of Fort William Henry capitulated. The terms of surrender that followed were more than honorable. British, Colonial Provincials (from Massachusetts, New Hampshire, New Jersey, and New York) and their camp followers would be allowed to withdraw, under French escort, to Fort Edward with full honors of war and were allowed to keep their muskets and a lone symbolic cannon. These men were not allowed to serve again for 18 months, and French prisoners were ordered to be turned over within the next three months.
On August 10, the column left the entrenched camp outside the fort (within modern-day Lake George Battlefield State Park) and entered the military road that would take them south to Fort Edward over a dozen miles away. What transpired next has been made famous by the novel and movie adaptations of James Fenimore Coopers The Last of the Mohicans. The French-allied Native Americans fell upon the column and the “Massacre” ensued. By the end of it, an estimated 185 men, women, and children had been killed, with countless others drug off in captivity.
Montcalm Trying to Stop the Massacre, 1877.
The British colonies were outraged. Those viciously attacked at the rear of the column were colonial provincials. The event became a rallying cry. What follows is a contemporary reaction from New York written in the wake of the Siege of Fort William Henry and reprinted in the Maryland Gazette on September 1, 1757. Its contents are extremely graphic in nature:
New-York, August 22
FORT WILLIAM HENRY, being on the third Instant besieged by a great Army of the French, was on the 9th Instant, after a vigorous Resistance, obliged to yield to the superior Force of the Enemy. Thus far is certain; but as to some Circumstances attending what follows, we wait for Confirmation. What at present is generally received among us, as Truth is, That the Enemy consisted of at least Eight Thousand Men; some make the Number much great, and carry it even to Fourteen or Fifteen Thousand: That the greatest Part were REGULAR TROOPS, to these were added about a Thousand FRENCH INDIANS, and that the Rest of their Army were CANADIANS. That our Garrison consisted of between two and three Thousand: That they sustained the Siege till they could hold no longer, and had burst the greatest Part of their Cannon, and spent almost all their Ammunition. How many of the Garrison were lost in the Siege, is not yet known (some say about One Hundred) nor the Number of the Enemy that were slain (but it is said about fourteen or fifteen Hundred:) That the Fort submitted upon a Capitulation, with Leave to march out with their Arms and Baggage, some Ammunition, one Piece of Cannon, and all the Honours of War. That the French IMMEDIATELY after the Capitulation, MOST PERSIDIOUSLY, let their INDIAN BLOOD-HOUNDS loose upon our People; whereupon a few ran off with their Arms, and light Cloathing that they had upon their Backs during the Siege, and were pursued by the Indians six or seven Miles on their Way to Fort-Edward; all the rest were despoiled of their Arms;—The most were stripped stark-naked; many were killed and scalped, Officers not excepted. All the English Indians and Negroes in the Garrison were seized, and either captivated or slain. The Throats of most, if not all the Women, were cut, their Bellies ripped open, their Bowels torn out, and thrown upon the Faces of their DEAD or DYING Bodies; and ‘tis said, that all the Women are murdered one Way or other: That the Children were taken by the Heels, and their Brains beat out against the Trees or Stones, and not one of them saved. Some of the Fugitives that reached New-York on this Day, affirm this, as what they saw, in the whole, or in great Part, executed before they escaped: The Report of such Cruelty and barbarity could hardly be believed, were we not assured of the terrible Massacre of several Hundreds of General BRADDOCK’s wounded men; of whom we hear not of one that survived the Carnage; were we not ALSO assured of the Murder of all the Sick and Wounded of the Garrison at Oswego, not withstanding the previous Capitulation.
‘Tis certain that the Growth of the British Colonies has long been the grand Object of FRENCH ENVY; and ‘tis said that their Officers have Orders from their Superiors, to check it at all Events, and to that End, to make the present War as bloody and destructive as possible! ‘Tis evident, that all their Measures tend the Way. Who can tell, that One of the Two Hundred that fell into their Hands in the last Month near Ticonderoga, has been spared? And is not every News-Paper still stained with the innocent Blood of Women and Children, and of unarmed Sufferers, who were plowing their Land, or gathering their Harvest, on our Frontiers?
To what a Pitch of Perfidy and Cruelty is that French Nation arrived! Would not an ancient Heathen shudder with Horror, on hearing so hideous a Tale! Is it the MOST CHRISTIAN KING that could give such Orders? Or could the most savage Nations ever exceed such French Barbarities! Besides this, was it ever known in the Pagan World, That Terms of Capitulation were not held inviolably sacred!
Surely, if any Nation under the Heavens was ever provoked to the most rigid Severities in the Conduct of a War, it is ours!—It is hard for an Englishman to kill his Enemy that lies at his Feet begging his Life: But will it not be STRICTLY JUST, and ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY, from henceforward, that we (for our own Security and Self-preservation, and to prevent the further shedding on innocent Blood) make some severe Examples of our inhuman Enemies when they fall into our Hands? Will not our armed Men be obliged for the future to reject all Terms of Capitulation, and not to as Quarter; but on the contrary, to fell their Lives as dear as they can! CONSIDER OF IT, my Countrymen, TAKE ADVICE, AND SPEACK YOUR MINDS….
Lexington and/or Concord or both? Same question, Trenton or Princeton or both? Guilford Court House? Yorktown Battlefield? Ask any historian or history enthusiast of the American Revolutionary War period what their favorite battlefield is and you may get one of the places above. Or some other hallowed ground.
This Sunday, at 7 p.m. EDT, join Emerging Revolutionary War on our Facebook page for a panel discussion on our favorite battlefields of the American Revolution. Discussion will also include the successes, pitfalls, or failure of preservation and what one can see or not see at these sites. We look forward to a lively conversation and your comments on what is the battlefield of choice.
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes the contribution of Eric Olsen, Park Ranger/Historian at Morristown National Historical Park
Military history tends to be a lot of “so and so’s” brigade advanced on the left wing, while “what’s his face’s” division withdrew.” Lots of movements of large faceless masses of soldiers. Personally, I prefer the little personal stories of individuals in the face of battle. Here is one such story from the battle of Monmouth in June 1778.
Sir Henry Clinton
I recently ran across this little tidbit in a July 7, 1778, letter written by the Adjutant General of the Hessian forces in America, Major Carl Leopold Baumeister. He described an incident during the battle of Monmouth involving the British commander in chief, Sir Henry Clinton. “General Clinton in the thickest fire, was saved by one of his adjutants, Captain Sutherland, when a rebel colonel aimed at him, but missed. Captain Sutherland’s horse was wounded. Another adjutant, Lloyd, stabbed the colonel.”
The story sounded vaguely familiar. Then I recalled something I’d read written by a British officer named Thomas Anbury. He was a prisoner of war, part of Burgoyne’s captured “Convention Army.” Anbury and the other prisoners were being held near Charlottesville, Virginia. At a place called Jones’s Plantation, Anbury related the following story on May 12, 1779,
“A very singular circumstance took place in that battle [Monmouth], which fully marks the coolness and deliberation, though in the heat of action, of Sir Henry Clinton: As he was reconnoitering, with two of his Aide de Camps, at the short turning of two roads, they met with an American officer, exceedingly well mounted upon a black horse, who, upon discerning them, made a stop, and looked as if he wished to advance to speak to them, when one of Sir Henry Clinton’s Aid de Camps fired a pistol at him, and he instantly rode off. Sir Henry was much displeased at his Aide de Camp, and censured him for being so hasty, adding, he was confident that the man wished to speak to him, and perhaps, might have given intelligence that would have been very essential, remarking, that when he was in Germany last war, and reconnoitering with Prince Ferdinand, a man rode up in a familiar manner, and gave such intelligence as decided the fate of the day.”
To read more about the Battle of Monmouth, check out “A Handsome Flogging, the Battle of Monmouth, June 28, 1778 by William Griffith, part of the Emerging Revolutionary War Series.
They waded ashore during the morning of July 6, 1758. Full of confidence, the vanguard of Major General James Abercromby’s massive army of over 16,000 men had completed its nearly thirty-mile trek northward across the waters of Lake George. They began pushing inland – men from Thomas Gage’s 80th Regiment of Light-Armed Foot, Phineas Lyman’s 1st Connecticut Regiment, and of Robert Rogers’ famed rangers – scattering small pockets of French resistance. By early afternoon the entire army had debarked at the designated landing site and formed into four columns to begin its advance towards the primary objective: Fort Carillon. Moving forward into the thick wilderness with the rightmost column of mixed regular and provincial units was Abercromby’s second-in-command, Brigadier General George Howe. [1]
George Augustus, Third Viscount Howe. New York Public Library
George Augustus, Third Viscount Howe, was born in Ireland in 1725. Like his younger brothers, Richard and William, George was destined for a career in His Majesty’s Forces and to serve in North America. His father, Emanuel Scrope, Second Viscount Howe, was a prominent member of parliament and served several years as the Royal Governor of Barbados before dying there of disease in 1735. Upon his father’s death, George assumed the title of Third Viscount and in 1745, at age twenty, was made an ensign in the 1st Foot Guards. Subsequently serving as an aide-de-camp to William Augustus, Duke of Cumberland, Howe fervently studied the strategies and tactics employed by his own commanding officers and the enemy, and witnessed firsthand the carnage of the War of Austrian Succession. Just ten years later, when the world was set ablaze by war yet again, George was ordered to Halifax, Nova Scotia with a commission as colonel of the 60th Regiment of Foot (Royal Americans) that was set to take part in a failed operation to capture Fortress Louisbourg in 1757. He was later made colonel of the 55th Regiment of Foot, and in December, appointed Brigadier General by William Pitt. The following summer, he accompanied the largest field army ever assembled in North America up to that time as its second-in-command. Continue reading ““The soul of General Abercromby’s army seemed to expire”: The Death of George Howe, July 6, 1758”→
When the musical 1776 debuted on Broadway, it came at what seemed like an unconventional time. The Vietnam War was underway, and American patriotism was being taxed as it had never been taxed before during wartime. Nonetheless, the production was a commercial and critical success, earning three Tony Awards, including Best Musical.
The show made the jump to film—I know a number of people who watch it every year on the Fourth of July—and it enjoyed revivals in 1997 and 2016. But the show never enjoyed the sort of enduring life off Broadway that classics like Hello, Dolly or Oklahoma! or Mame have enjoyed. (I could rattle off a dozen such names, and most readers would go, “Ohhhh, that’s a good one.” South Pacific? Meet Me in St. Louis? The Wizard of Oz? On and on….) As written, 1776 requires a cast of twenty-four men and only two women. That makes it exceptionally difficult to cast on the community theater level, where a majority of auditioners are typically female.
So perhaps the new national touring production of 1776, based on a 2022 Broadway revival, might offer a new way to look at the show. The new production, which I saw last week at the Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C., consists of “a company of artists who reflect multiple representations of race, ethnicity, and gender, and who identify as female, trans, nonbinary, and gender nonconforming.” That’s a mouthful, but the bottom line is that these are not your typical Founding Fathers because they aren’t “fathers” at all.
The production owns its new lens from the opening lines. To a backdrop of John Trumbull’s famous painting The Declaration of Independence, John Adams (as played by Gisela Adisa) begins the show: “In my many years, I have come to a conclusion that one useless man is a shame, two is a law firm, and three or more is a congress.” Adisa, a black woman, looks pointedly at the painting. “By God, I have had this Congress,” she says.
Her meaning is unmistakable: these dead white men are tired and old. Time for something new.
The cast comes onstage and literally steps into the buckle-topped leather shoes of the Founders. They hoist the bottom cuffs of their pantlegs up, transforming them into knickerbockers. And away they go! Soon enough, the whole cast is shout-singing at Adams to “Sit down, John!”
The production conceit obviously owes a lot to the Tony Award-winning Hamilton, which opened in 2015 with a multicultural cast. Writer Lin-Manuel Miranda reportedly read Ron Chernow’s biography of Alexander Hamilton and saw a lot of himself in the Founder: an Everyman from humble beginnings who transformed himself into a self-made man. If Miranda could see himself in this old “dead white male,” couldn’t others, as well?
Casting the Revolutionary generation outside of its historical color, race, and gender boundaries proved revolutionary in and of itself, but it proved remarkably successful. Hamilton’s story—and the larger story of America—became newly accessible to huge new audiences. Ditching fifes and drums for a hip-hop and soul soundtrack also reframed the story and increased history’s modern appeal.
Ironically, one of Miranda’s inspirations for Hamilton was the much more traditional 1776. “1776 certainly paved the way for Hamilton,” Miranda said in feature in Playbill, “not just in that it’s about our founders, but also in that it engages fully with their humanity. I think it makes them accessible to us in a very real way.” That Playbill piece, funny enough, consisted of a conversation between Miranda and William Daniels, who played John Adams in the original 1776 production and in the film. (It’s a neat interview. You can read it here.)
As I prepared to watch 1776 at the Kennedy Center, I pondered whether the same conceit would work for this show the way it had for Hamilton. I understand the “Everyman” idea, but on the other hand, the members of the Second Continental Congress were hardly “Everymen.” They were, quite literally, the political elites of their respective colonies. But there’s room, too, to get into the weeds on that. Benjamin Franklin and John Adams both came from humble origins even if Edward Rutledge or Richard Henry Lee did not. And that’s the point of good history: get into the weeds. Look at the shades of gray. Find new lenses to see the familiar in new ways so you can better understand what you’re looking at.
It would be a mistake to brush aside this production of 1776 as woke-ism or political correctness or any of that. “I’m not interested in talking about American history because I want to punish America,” said Bryan Stevenson, creator of the National Memorial for Peace and Justice in Montgomery, Alabama, quoted by the show’s directors in the program. “I want to liberate America.”
1776 proved liberating. While the production conceit didn’t work 100% of the time, it mostly did, and at those times it worked best, it added powerful, powerful resonance. When the delegates sang of the slave trade in “Molasses to Rum,” for instance, and some of those performers were Black women, the sinister nature of the dark bargain at the heart of the Founding reverberated with a tragic sense of the now. And when echoes of Adams’s plaintive “Is Anybody Out There,” sung by a black woman, wove through, it was chilling and urgent. History spoke from the stage to us in the present.
Newly sanctioned additions to the production gave us Abigail Adams’s “remember the ladies”—magnified in its power among a non-male cast. It also adds Robert Hemings, Thomas Jefferson’s enslaved servant, as a silent figure on stage, voiceless as Jefferson pens the enduring words “All men are created equal.” These were delightful, thought-provoking moments that confronted American history without being confrontational.
1776 is, to be sure, a delightful show, but it’s less jingoistic than one might expect for a story about America’s birthday. It asks us to consider the costs of that founding, not so we can feel bad about America but so can be reminded of the ongoing work to live up to our own ideals. It asks us not to think of a founding moment but, instead, the beginning of founding process that we are all invited to be part of because the work belongs to us all.
Happy Carolina Day! This June 28 marks the 247th anniversary of the Battle of Sullivan’s Island. In the battle, an outgunned and outnumbered group of Patriots defending an unfinished palmetto fort repulsed one of the most powerful navies in the world. The battle marked the first major battle of the Revolutionary War around Charleston and the battle’s anniversary (often referred to as Carolina Day or Palmetto Day) has been celebrated by Charlestonians and South Carolinians since 1777. But this was only the first of many actions that occurred in and around Charleston during the Revolutionary War.
Author Mark Maloy holding the newest Emerging Revolutionary War Series book: “To the Last Extremity: The Battles for Charleston, 1776-1782”
Just in time for the anniversary of this battle, Emerging Revolutionary War is proud to announce the sixth installment of the Emerging Revolutionary War Book Series: “To the Last Extremity: The Battles for Charleston, 1776-1782” by Mark Maloy. In our first book that explores the southern campaign of the Revolutionary War, “To the Last Extremity” gives and overview of what happened in Charleston, South Carolina during the war, including the Battle of Sullivan’s Island, Prevost’s 1779 invasion, the 1780 Siege of Charleston, and the occupation and liberation of the city. Additionally, the book includes three tours in and around the city that shows where the major actions occurred and what you can see there today.
Celebrate Carolina Day this year by picking up a copy of “To the Last Extremity” at Savas Beatie or wherever books are sold! If you are lucky enough to be in Charleston, this year’s annual celebration will take place in White Point Garden in Charleston, South Carolina with an address by Dr. David Preston who joined Emerging Revolutionary War a few months ago for one of our Rev War Revelries.
On December 16, 1773, a protest orchestrated by the Sons of Liberty in Boston, Massachusetts turned words into action. Upset over recently passed legislation and the belief that “no taxation without representation” 116 people dumped 342 chests of tea owned by the British East India Company into Boston Harbor. The event was one of the milestones on the way to the American Revolution and American independence. As the Boston Tea Party, as it is known to history, closes in on its 250th anniversary, Emerging Revolutionary War will invite Evan O’Brien, the creative director for the Boston Tea Party Ships and Museum this Sunday, June 25, evening for the next “Rev War Revelry.”
We hope you can join us at 7 p.m. EDT on Emerging Revolutionary War’s Facebook page for a discussion of the history behind and on December 16, 1773 and the efforts to commemorate and interpret that time frame. If you are contemplating venturing up to Boston in December to be in the city for the 250th anniversary of this event, you will not want to miss this discussion, as Evan will share some of what the museum has been planning to commemorate when Boston Harbor became a “tea-pot.”
Young George Washington’s performance in the French and Indian War is largely viewed as one of failure and recklessness. His actions in the Ohio River Valley ignited a conflict in North America that in turn lit the world ablaze. He could boast of no great military laurels, other than that he had emerged unscathed from the bloody battle of the Monongahela, and that he had commanded colonial provincials in Gen. John Forbes’ successful campaign against Fort Duquesne. He left military service following the latter event, with his hopes of receiving a commission in His Majesty’s Army worthy of his merit dashed years before.
“Young George Washington” by Pamela Patrick White, White Historic Art (whitehistoricart.com)
However, one aspect of Washington’s service in the French and Indian War has been widely neglected. The commander of the Virginia Regiment was tasked with defending the western frontier from enemy raiding parties. It was an unenviable position that he tackled with limited resources. It was during this period that Washington began to develop the leadership qualities that would inspire others to follow him into the depths of Hell some twenty years later. On the last day of 1758, as Washington prepared to pursue a life outside of military greatness, the officers of the Virginia Regiment drew-up a heartfelt petition to urge the now 26 year-old colonel they had grown to admire to rescind his resignation. Below is that document:
“To George Washington Esqr. Collo. of the Virginia Regiment & Commander of all the Virginia Forces The humble Address of the Officers of the Virginia Regiment
Fort Loudoun, Dec. 31st 1758
Sir,
We your most obedient and affectionate Officers, beg Leave to express our great Concern, at the disagreeable News we h⟨ave received⟩ of your Determination to resign the Command of that Corps, in which we have under you long ⟨served⟩.
The ⟨happine⟩ss we have enjoy’d and the Honor we have acquir’d, together with the m⟨utua⟩l Regard that has always subsisted between you and your Off⟨icers,⟩ have implanted so sensible an Affection in the Minds of us all, that we cannot be silent at this critical Occasion.
In our earliest Infancy you took us under your Tuition, train’d us up in the Practice of that Discipline which alone can constitute good Troops, from ⟨the⟩ punctual Observance of which you never suffer’d the least Deviation.
Your steady adherance to impartial Justice, your quick Discernment and invarable Regard to Merit, wisely intended to inculcate those genuine Sentiments, of true Honor and Passion for Glory, from which the great military Atcheivements have been deriv’d, first heighten’d our natural Emulation, and our Desire to excel. How much we improv’d by those Regulations, and your own Example, with what Alacrity we have hitherto discharg’d our Duty, with what Chearfulness we have encounter’d the severest Toils, especially while under your particular Directions, we submit to yourself, and flatter ourselves, that we have in a great Measure answer’d your Expectations.
Judge then, how sensibly we must be Affected with the loss of such an excellent Commander, such a sincere Friend, and so affable a Companion. How rare is it to find those amiable Qualifications blended together in one Man? How great the Loss of such a Man? Adieu to that Superiority, which the Enemy have granted us over other Troops, and which even the Regulars and Provincials have done us the Honor publicly to acknowledge! Adieu to that strict Discipline and order, which you have always maintain’d! Adieu to that happy Union and Harmony, which has been our principal Cement!
It gives us an additional Sorrow, when we reflect, to find, our unhappy Country will receive a loss, no less irreparable, than ourselves. Where will it meet a Man so experienc’d in military Affairs? One so renown’d for Patriotism, Courage and Conduct? Who has so great knowledge of the Enemy we have to deal with? Who so well acquainted with their Situation & Strength? Who so much respected by the Soldiery? Who in short so able to support the military Character of Virginia?
Your approv’d Love to your King and Country, and your uncommon Perseverance in promoting the Honor and true Interest of the Service, convince us, that the most cogent Reasons only could induce you to quit it. Yet we with the greatest Deference, presume to entreat you to suspend those Thoughts for another Year, and to lead us on to assist in compleating the Glorious Work of extirpating our Enemies, towards which so considerable Advances have been already made. In you we place the most implicit Confidence. Your Presence only will cause a steady Firmness and Vigor to actuate in every Breast, despising the greatest Dangers, and thinking light of Toils and Hardships, while lead on by the Man we know and Love.
But if we must be so unhappy as to part, if the Exigencies of your Affairs force you to abandon Us, we beg it as our last Request that you will recommend some Person most capable to command, whose Military Knowledge, whose Honor, whose Conduct, and whose disinterested Principles we may depend upon.
Frankness, Sincerity, and a certain Openness of Soul, are the true Characteristics of an Officer, and we flatter ourselves that you do not think us capable of saying anything, contrary to the purest Dictates of our Minds. Fully persuaded of this, we beg Leave to assure you, that as you have hitherto been the actuating Soul of the whole Corps, we shall at all times pay the most invariable regard to your Will and Pleasure, and will always be happy to demonstrate by our Actions, with how much Respect and Esteem we are, Sir, Your most affectionate & most obedt humble Servants.”[i]
[i] “Address from the Officers of the Virginia Regiment, 31 December 1758,” Founders Online, National Archives, https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/02-06-02-0147. [Original source: The Papers of George Washington, Colonial Series, vol. 6, 4 September 1758 – 26 December 1760, ed. W. W. Abbot. Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1988, pp. 178–181.]