Where do our rights come from? The answer to this question is at the heart of the pine tree flag that was flown by soldiers and sailors during the Revolutionary War. The Founding Fathers were very clear about where they believed rights came from. In the Declaration of Independence, the Founders say that their “unalienable rights” were “endowed by their Creator”. This was a distillation of hundreds of years of religious and enlightenment thought and writing. Because their rights came from God, the role of government was not to provide rights, but to protect their natural rights from people or governments that would infringe them.
If a government were to attempt to subvert a people’s natural rights, who could the people appeal to for justice? At that point, the only recourse is an appeal to God or Heaven to protect their natural rights.
The actual phrase comes from a passage in John Locke’s Second Treatise of Government (1689): “And where the body of the people, or any single man, is deprived of their right, or is under the exercise of a power without right, and have no appeal on earth, then they have a liberty to appeal to heaven, whenever they judge the cause of sufficient moment . . . And therefore, though the people cannot be judge, so as to have, by the constitution of that society, any superior power, to determine and give effective sentence in the case; yet they have, by a law antecedent and paramount to all positive laws of men, reserved that ultimate determination to themselves which belongs to all mankind, where there lies no appeal on earth, viz. to judge, whether they have just cause to make their appeal to heaven.” [emphasis added]
As war between American colonists and British regulars began in 1775, the colonists stressed that the need for war was to defend their natural rights, or the “rights of Englishmen.” Supporters of the patriot cause developed numerous flags and banners that highlighted the cause for which they were fighting. These banners which flew from ships, forts, and carried into battle often included symbols and motifs as well as words and phrases. There were rattlesnake flags with the words “Don’t Tread on Me”. There were regimental flags with Latin phrases. Many included stars and stripes, though a standard American national flag was not developed by the Congress until 1777. Among the banners and flags created in the early days of the conflict that demonstrated the justice of their cause, was an “Appeal to Heaven” flag.
This popular flag that was flown by the colonists was a white flag with a green pine tree in the center and the words “An Appeal to Heaven” (sometimes it would say “An Appeal to God”) scrawled across it. No version of this flag still exists today, but descriptions from the time tell us what it looked like. This flag had much symbolism beyond the important phrase.
The pine tree symbolized the New England colonists’ home. The pine tree had long been used as a symbol of Massachusetts during the colonial period. The eastern white pine was very common to the area and New Englanders adopted the tree as a symbol of their land as early as the 17th century. As the colonies went to war with Great Britain in 1775, many Massachusetts troops carried flags with pine trees on them. New England Continental army units used pine tree flags in battle, such as at Bunker Hill. The colonial leader Dr. Jospeh Warren used the phrase “appeal to Heaven” in a letter he penned to the people of Great Britain after the first battles at Lexington and Concord in which he noted that “to the persecution and tyranny of his cruel Ministry we will not tamely submit; appealing to Heaven for the justice of our cause, we determine to die or be free.” He lived up to his words. In one account, at the Battle of Bunker Hill, just before being shot in the head, Dr. Jospeh Warren pointed to one of the “Appeal to Heaven” flags and asked his men to remember what they were fighting for.
Following the incredibly bloody Battle of Bunker Hill, and following George Washington’s arrival as commander-in-chief of the Continental Army, the Continental Congress published a declaration of “the Causes and Necessity of their taking up Arms.” In this declaration the Congress asserts that they had no “ambitious Designs of separating from Great Britain, and establishing Independent States”, but that they were “resolved to die Freemen rather than to live Slaves.”
This declaration reached the army encamped outside Boston in mid-July. General Israel Putnam had his division paraded at Prospect Hill on July 18, 1775 where the declaration was read to the troops. A flag had been sent to Putnam from Connecticut and it was unfurled after reading the declaration and a prayer. As the flag was raised, the wind caught it and unfurled it. On one side was emblazoned “An Appeal to Heaven” and on the other side “Qui Transtulit Sustinet” which is Latin for “He Who Transplanted Still Sustains.” Included on this banner was the Connecticut armorial bearings.
By October of 1775, not just army units were using this banner, but also American floating batteries and ships were flying it. Col. Joseph Reed wrote to two other officers: “Please to fix upon some particular colour for a flag, and a signal by which our vessels may know one another. What do you think of a flag with a white ground, a tree in the middle, the motto “Appeal to Heaven”? This is the flag of our floating batteries.” By January of 1776, British newspapers were reporting the flag flying from American privateers. In April of 1776, the Massachusetts government directed that their naval forces use the banner.
Ultimately, the Patriots’ appeal was answered, and the United States won its freedom from British rule. Today, the flag symbolizes a central aspect our Revolution: that our rights come from God and when tyrannical governments attempt to deny those rights, we have a right and a duty to appeal to the highest level.
Ecelbarger’s original research revises the history of this crucial period, presenting for the first time Washington’s aggressive plan to attack Philadelphia soon after arriving at Valley Forge and the fact that the encamped army was much larger than previously understood.
This video will be posted on our Facebook page and then later go up on our YouTube page and audio podcast.
We write about serious topics all the time here, which we should. But sometimes its nice to have some fun. This one will be fun. One of the things that stands out to me as I read about upcoming events and programs going on across the nation are graphics and illustrations. Logos. There’s nothing like a great logo. It can capture the spirit of the team/place/group. One of my favorite logos is this one (I sure hope Rob Orrison is reading):
The Bicentennial produced what I think is a great, classy looking logo:
By comparison, the official 250 logo for the nation’s commission is bland and boring to me:
As we’ve entered the 250th commemoration, I’ve noticed the various logos for state 250 commissions. Some I really like, some are o.k., and some are just plain . . . boring. I’ll run down my opinion on the various state 250th logos. There are many state commissions, so to keep this manageable I’ll just focus on those of the original thirteen states. And I’ll go through them in alphabetical order so as to avoid any sense of favoritism.
Connecticut I’ll just say it: it’s boring. I love the Nutmeg State and it has some great historic sites. But the logo falls flat. Just the state name, with the ‘C’ in blue to set it off.
Massachusetts It’s ok. The state abbreviation and ‘250’ look very 70s to me. I honestly expected more from a state with such rich Revolutionary history.
Come on, Granite State! New Hampshire currently has no state 250th Commission. Let’s hope the state addresses that soon.
New Jersey The Garden State’s logo features an illustration representing the state’s role as the Crossroads of the Revolution. I’m not crazy about the colors, though.
Pennsylvania The Keystone State has used its state abbreviation with the numbers ‘250.’ It reminds me of money. Simple, but it works. I do wish it had more to it, though.
Rhode Island Spot on. Nice logo, with the anchor, a symbol of the state, and abbreviation and ‘250.’ It’s easy to read, sharp, and captures the state’s history.
South Carolina I think the Palmetto State could’ve done better. It’s not awful, but not inspiring either. The letters and wording could really use an image or graphic to go with them. How about a palmetto?
Virginia I like the use of red, white, and blue in the Old Domion’s logo, as well as the thick font for the letters and numbers. It’s a good one. I wish it was a bit more visual, with maybe a state outline or something, but overall, I like it.
What do you think? What do you like best? Do you live in another state with a great logo? Share it.
This is not in any way meant to criticize any state’s commemorative efforts. Every state is doing great programming. Check out their websites and support their programs. And be sure to check out the national 250 website:
Two hundred fifty years ago Culpeper residents were uneasy. Virginians were in a war of words with their mother country, as evidenced by the published Culpeper Resolves of 1774 against England’s abuses. Little did they know that by the end of 1775 fighting men from Culpeper would be at the forefront to depose the British government from Virginia forever.
On March 23, 1775 Patrick Henry rose to speak at the Second Virginia Revolutionary Convention held at Richmond’s Saint John’s Church. The Convention’s presiding officer, Peyton Randolph, gave Henry the floor as debate swirled concerning approving a resolution forming and arming of Virginia Patriot militia forces. In attendance were Culpeper’s representatives Henry Pendleton and Henry Field Jr. as were Fauquier County’s representatives, and future Culpeper Minutemen, Thomas Marshall and James Scott. Henry stated:
Romanticsized version of Henry’s speech at St. John’s Church
“Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace but there is no peace. The war has actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!
Thomas Marshall later told his son, also future Culpeper Minutemen and U.S. Chief Justice John Marshall, that the speech was “one of the boldest, vehement, and animated pieces of eloquence that had ever been delivered.”
As Henry predicted a gale did come down from the north in the form of British troops trying to control arms and gunpowder stockpiles on April 19 in Lexington and Concord, Massachusetts, resulting in the first bloodshed of what Henry predicted as “the clash of resounding arms.” Just weeks earlier, William Legge, Earl of Dartmouth, Britain’s Secretary of State for the colonies, issued a warning to the Royal Governors and suggested they take control of such gunpowder and weapon strongholds. He especially targeted the governors of Massachusetts and Virginia.
News of the events in Massachusetts was still over a week away in Virginia when early in the morning of April 21, colonists in Williamsburg awoke to find royal marines removing the gunpowder from the public powder magazine. Virginia’s Royal Governor, John Murray, Earl of Dunmore, ordered the aggression respecting Dartmouth’s warning. This “Gunpowder Incident”, ignited the already simmering spark of discontent and suspicion between Dunmore and the patriot colonists.
Henry quickly formed some local militias into companies near Williamsburg and requested militia’s throughout the colony to muster. In northern Virginia, Fredericksburg became the rendezvous location for local militias. In Culpeper County men from throughout the area quickly assembled in their traditional muster and drilling location of Major Philp Clayton’s field by Mountain Run, today’s Yowell Meadow Park. Once organized, Culpeper Captain Edward Stevens marched his Culpeper militiamen to Fredericksburg joining other county militias.
Dunmore was well aware that Henry was actively recruiting militias to march on Williamsburg. Henry publicly called for Dunmore to return the powder or pay for its value, £330 (near $18,000 today) or patriot forces would march against him. As the situation escalated, Dunmore reportedly said, “I have once fought for the Virginians, and by God I will let them see that I can fight against them.” On May 3, after over ten days of maneuvering, Dunmore agreed to Henry’s monetary demands as peace was preserved. Militia’s throughout the colony, including those of Culpeper in Fredericksburg, were ordered to return to their home counties. The Gunpowder Incident proved to be a milestone event in Virginia’s turn towards revolution. As 1775 moved into summer open rebellion against royal authority began and Culpeper residents prepared for the upcoming conflict.
Earlier, in March 1775, Culpeper County representatives, Henry Field Jr. and Henry Pendleton, attended the Second Virginia Convention where Peyton Randolph, Richard Henry Lee, George Washington, Patrick Henry, Richard Bland, Benjamin Harrison, and Edmund Pendleton were selected as delegates representing Virginia at the Second Continental Congress. Field and Pendleton knew the representatives well from their years in the House of Burgesses. They especially knew George Washington who earlier served as Culpeper County’s first surveyor and Edmund Pendleton was Henry Pendleton’s uncle. On May 10, 1775, the Second Continental Congress convened in Philadelphia.
After the Battles of Lexington and Concord and Virginia’s gunpowder incident, the first order of business for the Congress was to prepare for war. On June 14, 1775, Congress voted to establish the Continental Army which incorporated patriot forces already in place in Massachusetts and New York while also raising the first ten companies of Continental Army troops on a one-year enlistment. These included two regiments of Virginia riflemen, one raised from Berkeley County (now in West Virginia) led by Captain Hugh Stephenson and the other from Frederick County led by Daniel Morgan, along with rifle regiments from Pennsylvania and Maryland. The very next day, Congress unanimously elected George Washington as commander-in-chief of the Continental Army and he immediately departed for Boston.
Meanwhile, Boston area patriots learned that the British were planning to fortify the unoccupied hills surrounding the city, which, if successful, would give the British control of Boston Harbor. Patriot leader William Prescott quickly responded, utilizing his 1,200 troops to occupy and build defense works on Bunker and nearby Breed’s Hill. At daybreak on June 17, the British mounted an attack against them. The Boston patriots fought gallantly, and enacted tremendous casualties upon the British, but eventually they ran out of ammunition allowing the British to control the high ground of the Peninsula. Newly assigned commander, George Washington, had just arrived in New York on his way to Boston when he received news of the battle and the death of patriot Major General Joseph Warren (for whom Warrenton, Virginia was later named).
Monument dedicated to the Culpeper Minute Men muster site in Yowell Meadow Park, Culpeper, VA
On July 8th, 1775, Congress directed each of the colonies to start forming land and naval military units. Virginia’s Third Convention assembled in Richmond on July 17, 1775 and began drafting legislation for the defense of Virginia titled, “An Ordinance for raising and embodying a sufficient force for the defense and protection of this Colony.” Following the guidance of Congress, an ordinance was worked upon to create a Committee of Safety to govern Virginia and to prepare for war. Although the details of the legislation took over a month to form, the earliest specifics created 16 military districts from Virginia’s 62 counties. Each military district was to support a 68-man regular, or rifle, company and a ten-company minute battalion of 500 men in preparation for war.
On August 21, 1775 “An Ordinance for raising and embodying a sufficient force for the defense and protection of this Colony.” was read for a third and final time and then passed unanimously by the delegates of Virginia’s Third Convention. On August 25th Alexander Purdie’s Virginia Gazette published the ordinance as directed by the Convention. Delegates worked strenuously on the ordinance for over five weeks before getting passage. George Mason wrote, “I have not since I came to this place, except the fast-day of Sunday, had an hour which I could call my own – this is hard duty.” This was by far the largest ordinance produced by any of the Conventions as it contained over 13,000 words and took up six pages of Purdie’s eight-page Gazette. Earlier readings of the ordinance alerted many leaders throughout Virginia to begin the process of recruiting, possibly as early as late July and certainly by the first week of August, to fulfill the legislation’s manpower needs. The ordinance created 16 military districts including the Culpeper District, which also included Orange and Fauquier County.
This legislation meant that the Culpeper Military District was now tasked with providing manpower of almost 600 men including officers. In August, the local delegates, Thomas Marshall and James Scott from Fauquier County, Field and Pendleton from Culpeper, and Thomas Barbour and James Taylor from Orange returned home to aid in the recruitment throughout their district. For the first time, Fauquier, Culpeper, and Orange County men were recruiting for war, not against the Native Americans, the French, or the Spanish. This time they were recruiting for war against their own British empire.
Each military district was to raise one 68-man regular or rifle company in addition to the 500 man minute battalion, rank and file, from the age of 16 to that of 50, to be divided into ten companies plus officers. Every man enlisted was required to “furnish himself with a good rifle, if to be had, otherwise a tomahawk, common firelock bayonet, pouch, or cartouche box, and three charges of powder and ball.” If the minute-man was not able to furnish his arms, they were to be supplied at public expense. Six privates were allowed one shared tent from the public supply. For pay, the Battalion Colonel was allowed 15 shillings per day, Lt. Colonel 12 shillings, and a Major 10 shillings. The pay for Captains and lower ranks was the same as Culpeper’s Regular Company at 6 shillings per day, Lieutenants at 4 shillings, Ensigns at 3 shillings and Privates earning one shilling and four pence per day. The difference in pay came from days a year in service. Both privates for the regular rifle company and the minute battalion were enlisted for a year’s service. However there was certainty that the rifle company would be away from home during the year while the minute battalion might not get called up, meaning that they would be paid for local drilling of 76 days per year instead of 360. As a result, the regular rifle company recruits expected to earn a yearly pay of 480 shillings/year while a minute battalion privates were guaranteed 101 shillings, that is of course unless the minute company was activated, which the Culpeper Minute Battalion was.
In the newly formed Culpeper Military District local leaders met and made commitments for recruiting individual companies and decided to meet on September 1st in the central county of Culpeper at the traditional militia muster site of Philip Clayton’s property just west of Culpeper Court House. It seems clear that some of the most experienced riflemen and former militia veterans would make up the district’s needs for the 68-man rifle company that would be incorporated into either Patrick Henry’s 1st Virginia Regiment or William Woodford’s 2nd Second Virginia Regiment. Certainly military district rifle competitions pushed the expert riflemen toward the rifle company. However, some expert riflemen appreciating the idea of remaining at home most of the time, chose to stay in the minute battalion. Because of its size, recruitment for the manpower needs for the ten-company minute battalion was going to be the greatest challenge.
In Fauquier County, Delegates Thomas Marshall and James Scott began recruiting officers and in turn, those officers were charged with recruiting the needed manpower for each company to fulfill Fauquier’s obligations. Besides Marshall and Scott, officers placed in charge of recruiting their own companies included William Pickett, John Chilton, William Blackwell, George Johnston, Elias Edmunds, Francis Triplett, and William Payne. Orange County leaders Lawrence Taliaferro, Richard Taylor, Joseph Spencer, John Williams, and Willliam Taliaferro began recruiting their own companies. In Culpeper County, highest ranking militia officers, John Green and Edward Stevens, took the lead in recruitment efforts. Other Culpeper leaders recruiting included Abraham Buford, John Jameson, William McClanahan, George Slaughter, Philip Clayton, and James Slaughter. Their upcoming muster on September first at Clayton’s Field would determine how effective their August recruitment efforts were.
As the September first rendezvous approached, recruiting captains from each of the three counties of Orange, Culpeper, and Fauquier made plans to meet at Clayton’s muster field along Mountain Run. It appears that the many recruitment captains had their specific areas in the region they had recruited. In Culpeper, Abraham Buford recruited in southwestern Culpeper County (today’s Madison County), John Jameson recruited close to the village of Culpeper Courthouse, William McClanahan northwestern Culpeper County into present day Rappahannock County. James Slaughter recruited in the area of Culpeper Courthouse and south and east to the Rapidan River. John Green recruited the northeastern areas of the county.
In Orange County Joseph Spencer recruited in southeastern Orange. His recruits journey to Clayton’s muster field has been recorded. Spencer made an initial rendezvous location of his recruits at “Porter’s Old Courthouse” probably on August 31st. In 1775 this property was owned by Charles Porter and it had been the site of the first Orange County Courthouse from 1738 until 1749 before the courthouse was moved to near present-day Orange. The first courthouse location today is on the eastern side of Route 522 just northeast, and on the hill, from E.V. Baker’s Store. From that location it is roughly 12 miles to Clayton’s muster field, roughly a half-day march. It is assumed that other recruiters made rendezvous in a similar fashion, however many of the recruits in Culpeper County probably just sent word to directly meet at Clayton’s field.
Most of the Culpeper Military District recruits likely arrived by September 1, but some probably lingered into the next few days. There the recruited men would have been sworn in, given rank, and told their paygrade. The Committee of Safety would have also been involved fulfilling the officer ranks and in reducing the number of minute battalion companies and captains to ten. Some of the recruiting captains filled senior officer ranks and their recruits were assimilated into other companies to complete their needed numbers. Certainly rifle competitions were held and most of those who were most skilled filled into John Green’s Rifle Company. There appears to have been enough good riflemen above the 68 needed for the rifle company and they were placed in a variety of the battalion companies. John Green of Culpeper County led the rifle company as Captain with Richard Taylor of Orange 1st Lt. and John Eustice of Fauquier as 2nd Lt. The senior leaders of the Minute Battalion were Col. Lawrence Taliaferro from Orange, Lt. Col. Edward Stevens from Culpeper, and Major Thomas Marshall from Fauquier. The 10 Battalion Company Captains included Abraham Buford, John Jameson, William McClanahan, and John Williams, all from Culpeper; William Blackwell, John Chilton, William Pickett, and James Scott from Fauquier; and William Payne and Joseph Spencer of Orange.
Sixteen year old recruit, Philip Slaughter penned a diary account of which we get an image as to what Clayton’s muster site appeared. According to Slaughter,
Modern interpretation of the Culpeper Minute Men Flag, courtesy of the Sons of the American Revolution
“Some had tents, and others huts of plank, etc. The whole regiment appeared according to order in hunting shirts made of strong, brown linen, dyed the color of the leaves of the trees, and on the breast of each hunting shirt was worked in large white letters the words, ‘Liberty or Death’ and all that could procure for love or money bucks’ tails, wore them in their hats. Each man had a leather belt around his shoulders, with a tomahawk and scalping knife. The flag had in the center a rattlesnake coiled in the act to strike. Below it were the words, ‘Don’t tread on me.’ At the sides, ‘Liberty or Death’ and at the top, ‘The Culpeper Minute Men.’
The According to Culpeper’s Ensign David Jameson, the Culpeper Battalion “was raised in less than three weeks.” The men on Clayton’s field proved to be special in liberating Virginia from the British. Leadership on the field was not in shortage. On that field was a brother (Ambrose Madison) to a future president (James Madison), a father (Richard Taylor) to a future president (Zachary Taylor) and future Chief Justice of the U.S. Supreme Court (John Marshall) among countless other state leaders. Slaughter also stated, “During out encampment an express arrived from Patrick Henry, commandant of the First Virginia Continental Regiment, by order of the committee of safety, then sitting in the city of Williamsburg, requesting the Minute Men to march immediately to that city. The Minute Men immediately made ready.” It is not known for sure when the Virginia’s Committee of Safety issued the request to “March immediately,” but John Green’s Regular Rifle Company certainly left Culpeper in late September for the 140-mile march of roughly six days arriving by October 4. The Culpeper Minute Battalion followed a few weeks later and arrived in Williamsburg by October 23.
Between late September and mid-October 1775, over 600 Culpeper Military District recruits marched from the muster and drilling site of “Clayton’s Old Field” in response to Patrick Henry’s request of immediate mobilization to Williamsburg for the protection of Virginia. The Culpeper deployment proved to be by far the largest deployment from any location in Virginia in 1775-76 to answer the call of defending the Commonwealth from the British. While every Virginia Military District fulfilled their requirements for a regular company, Culpeper’s “Minutemen” were Virginia’s only fully-manned minute battalion to respond in Virginia’s critical hour of need. After arriving at Williamsburg, Culpeper’s expert riflemen immediately moved into action against Lord Dunmore’s Royal and Loyalists forces. The rifle company was immediately pressed into action guarding James River crossings while the minute battalion was immediately ordered to protect the local magazine, and like the rifle company, James River crossings. Upon arriving Slaughter continued to tell about their arrival in Williamsburg stating, “Many people hearing that we were from the backwoods, near the Indians, and seeing out dress, were as much afraid of us for a few days as if we had been Indians; but finding that we were orderly and attentive in guarding the city, they treated us with great respect.”
Although there were many “riflemen” in the battalion, Slaughter also stated, “The Minute Men were chiefly armed with fowling-pieces and squirrel-guns.” Upon arrival, Col. William Woolford designated Captain Abraham Buford, and a hand-selected company of minute battalion riflemen, to move immediately, marching through the night of October 26, to defend Hampton from attack by a British naval squadron. Hampton would be there first of several weeks of fighting Lord Dunmore and his mixed force of Regulars, Loyalists and former slaves.
For more information on commemorative events this fall commemorating the Culepeper Minute Men, visit the Culpeper Museum at https://culpepermuseum.com/
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Avellina Balestri
My American Revolution historical fiction trilogy, “All Ye That Pass By,” is thematically centered upon the pros and cons of oath-taking. Although the topic has been very much on my mind during the researching and writing process, I think many people who engage with the American Revolution on a popular level forget about the profound moral quandary of making and breaking solemn declarations before God and Man.
When the signers of the Declaration of Independence pledged their “lives, fortunes, and sacred honor” to the cause of rebellion, there could not help but be an element of contradiction, for they were committing an act of treason against the King to whom they had previously sworn fealty. Too often we reduce this decision to a test of courage, necessary to take the risks and face the consequences that accompany defying one’s sovereign. We get a certain thrill from the idea of defiance because it fits a certain popularized narrative framework. But perhaps this is partly because we have forgotten the rubrics of more religious ages in which hierarchies represented divine realities that dignified mankind.
Swearing oaths to kings and queens was a grave matter in both a spiritual and interpersonal sense. Most oath-taking rituals involved placing one’s hand (and often lips) upon the Cross on the Holy Bible, the symbol of salvation, and in the old rendering of such vows, wishing that one’s heart be cut out if proven false to the liege lord or lady, who would henceforth be held higher than family ties or even one’s own life. Calling down the heart-cutting curse was both a literal reference to execution and a symbolic statement of self-destruction, for what was a man’s heart if his word was worthless to the one you had sworn to defend by your life or death?
By contrast, unwavering zeal for one’s royal master may lead to one’s early demise, but that is not merely tolerable, but glorious, indeed, the most glorious hour of one’s life (as Major John Andre declared before minutes before his own life was taken), because it proved the depths of one’s ability to be a good and faithful servant, and what is a man without a lord to serve? What liberty can a knight enjoy if he will not swear his sword and be chained? These perennial questions hearken back to the Anglo-Saxon epic of the Men of Maldon, who preferred death to abandoning their lord, even as he lay slain by Norsemen upon the field. It is no small irony that one of Maldon’s other famous sons was General Horatio Gates, whose trajectory runs in quite a different direction.
Duke of Marlborough
On that note, it is worth turning to the various figures in the long history of the British Isles and her overflowing empire who chose to break their oaths to reigning sovereigns by way of rebellion, from Lord Brooke (who fought in The English Civil War against Charles I), to the Duke of Marlborough (who took part in The Glorious Revolution against James II), to Lord Murray (who fought in The Second Jacobite Rebellion against George II). To justify themselves under God and before Man, they usually appealed exception clauses based on a higher religious obligation or a superior royal claim. For Brooke and Marlborough, it was because the kings were leaning too Catholic for their Protestant convictions; for Murray, it was because the Stuarts were the rightful rulers, unlawfully sent into exile.
Even in these cases, however, there is a sense that the participants never fully managed to escape the shadow over their broken oaths. Yes, they might appeal to those “rare cases” brought forward by philosophers and theologians from Thomas Aquinas to Samuel Rutherford, but they had still committed what Dante deemed the most mortal of sins in the depths of his inferno. Bearing that weight is exhausting for any mortal man, doomed to make constant self-defenses while knowing the world will never truly trust them again. It is, in effect, to be branded by the mark of Caine, for one who breaks his oaths has murdered the worth of his own word, a nearer thing than even his own brother.
Jumping forward in time, the American Revolution is a unique case in that it was not fundamentally grounded in either a doctrinal nor a dynastic dispute. One would have to squint incredibly hard to make the arguments of either Aquinas or Rutherford translate neatly into a stamp of approval for the American Revolution. This is not to say the revolutionaries did not borrow from the rhetoric of past uprisings, especially regarding the curbing of royal prerogative (albeit colonial complaints were more directed at Parliament than at the King, even though the King upheld his Parliament). But humanistic philosophies that flourished during the Enlightenment introduced rubrics for revolution based on the will of the people. This, in turn, started the domino effect that established the modern consensus of Democracy being inherently positive, even though General Thomas Gage’s warning about the effects of “democratic despotism” is perhaps more relevant than we wish to admit.
Coming back to my own literary exploration, I strive to cast a particular light upon the experiences of Catholic recusants in the British Isles and North America from the 16th-18th centuries, who found themselves between a rock and a hard place in terms of oath-taking. This was especially the case for English Catholics of prominent lineage, who were forced to pay taxes and tithes for refusing to conform to the Anglican Church, leaving their resources drained and their status diminished. By the latter part of the 18th century, following multiple failed Jacobite risings in favor of Catholic claimants, most were eager to dispel accusations of cowardice at best and treason at worst for the old faith they keep against the odds. Even the pope acknowledged the House of Hanover by 1766. But in order to participate fully in British society, it was mandatory to take the Test Act, an oath acknowledging the King as Governor of the Church in England, a claim inherently repugnant to Catholic consciences.
Some resisted this temptation; others yielded to it. One of the most famous cases of apostasy in the period pertains to General Gage’s father and his father’s cousin, both coming from a staunchly Catholic lineage, who took the Test Act ostensibly to save their racing horses from being confiscated. That was the tip of the iceberg, of course; Catholics were not only forbidden from owning horses, but also bearing arms, voting, holding most offices, attending universities, serving in the military, and much more.
The decision to conform to the religion of the state often haunted those who made it. Oaths were understood religiously by society as whole, but for noble families there was a particular weight involved, since the Test Act was a successor of ancient chivalric vows taken by their ancestors. By taking it, Catholics would have sworn their souls to something which they believed put them in a state of mortal sin. Yet…would not breaking that oath be a mortal sin too?
St. Thomas More
In this quandary, whatever they did would be a slap in the face to saints and martyrs most highly praised in their tradition, such as Thomas More and Edmund Campion, who preferred to die rather than sign the Oath of Supremacy. Nevertheless, they met their fates praying for the King and Queen who killed them, embodying fidelity under fire. Another case honored by the oppressed Catholic community was Lord Derwentwater, who rose up in the first Jacobite Rebellion of 1715, and preferred beheading to either recanting his faith or swearing an oath to the House of Hanover which he deemed to be illegitimate. Interestingly, it was said Derwentwater’s heart remained incorrupt, in counteraction to the curse of having it cut out.
Again, we see the crushing effects of previous failed rebellions, and cannot help but compare them to the effects of the American Revolution. The rebellion, predicted to be a flash in the pan by the British establishment, proves more successful than most imagined, shattering old structures in a manner which some will find terrifying and others liberating. In this new world, many hope to enjoy a chance to start over with a clean slate. But for those who have taken the Test Act, going down such a path would require trekking into uncharted territory, calling into question every aspect of loyalty and identity, on earth as it is in heaven. Embracing the revolutionary cause would inherently be a process of unbecoming, shedding one’s understanding of past obligations and hoping the gamble would pay in the end.
For Catholic recusants, the experiences of Charles Carroll of Carrollton served as an example of what might be possible in America. His claim was that King George is a traitor to them rather than them being a traitor to him, and that having been placed under religious suppression, his fellow Catholics had the right to seek alternative options for their own betterment as a community of faith. The outcome of the revolution might have been a risk, but he had proven that it was already disrupting the old order and causing the disabilities placed upon Catholics to crumble. Prejudice might remain, but Carroll has already overcome various civil obstacles against his faith in Maryland, the one-time Catholic colony laid low, and George Washington, commander-in-chief of the Continental Army, who once took the Test Act himself, had demonstrated his willingness to uphold religious toleration in his army.
And yet…the question of an oath’s weight still bore down on those confronted with such a choice, raised with the conviction that even an oath with questionable aspects was considered worthy of adhering to “as far as the law of God allows.” The way in which each man and woman wrestled with their conscience when it came to such heavy matters was as complex and fascinating as the war itself, and my experience of bringing that inner conflict to life as a writer has been one of the most rewarding aspects of the creative process.
Avellina Balestri is a Catholic author and editor based in the historic borderlands of Maryland and Pennsylvania. She represented the state of Maryland at The Sons of the American Revolution National Orations Contest and is the author of the American Revolution historical fiction trilogy “All Ye That Pass By,” the first installment of which, “Gone for a Soldier,” is available on Amazon. Avellina is also the Editor-in-Chief of Fellowship & Fairydust, a magazine inspiring faith & creativity and exploring the arts through a spiritual lens.
For more information about the author and her various projects, please visit the following websites:
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian and reviewer Al Dickenson
No president has an easy job. But imagine holding the position of president immediately after undoubtedly the best president the United States has ever had.
That was John Adams’ conundrum. Additionally, it is the subject of renowned historian Lindsey Chervinsky’s new book, Making the Presidency: John Adams and the Precedents That Forged the Republic. Initially released last year, in the midst of a politically fraught election season, Chervinsky places the modern world into a context we should all understand better: the history of the 1790s.
After a brief introduction regarding the Revolutionary War, the early republic, and George Washington’s presidency, readers are thrown into John Adams’ presidency. Federalists opposing Democratic-Republicans (commonly referred to as simply “Republicans” in Chervinsky’s text, as they referred to themselves), the Americans opposing the French, the North opposing the South, Federalists opposing Federalists: it seemed there could be no peace in the nation so split apart. Yet the nation stood for another 220 years. Why is that?
Chervinsky argues that the reason we are a nation today relies on how John Adams served his presidency, specifically the power sharing he enacted in his cabinet amongst Republicans (like Vice President Thomas Jefferson), Federalists (like Secretary of State Timothy Pickering), and Archfederalists (like Secretary of War James McHenry), the successful navigation of foreign affairs (see the ongoing French Revolution, specifically the XYZ Affair), and the peaceful transfer of power.
The final focus of Chervinsky’s book, Adams’ loss in the 1800 election, perhaps offers the most original outlook on Adams’ presidency. Being the loser of the election, and being the first incumbent president to lose an election, historians have often treated Jefferson a little kindlier than Adams. Where Chervinsky’s work shines, however, is in showing how these great, powerful men, the leaders of their respective parties, differed in how they saw power, and in how they wielded it.
Little scholarship focuses on Jefferson’s machinations to gain the presidency. Rarely researched are his Virginia and Kentucky Resolutions, which called for nullifying federal law, even though these ideas were eventually adapted into various Confederate causes and mentalities in the following decades. Nor are the essentially political and emotional blackmail Jefferson laid on Federalist members of Congress who refused to vote for him over Aaron Burr. Jefferson threatened the members of Congress with, in essence, secession of Republican states if they did not pick a president soon, given that this was the only election in American history where the House of Representatives made the presidential selection. The dirty tricks of politics manifested themselves in this election, including smear campaigns against Adams and unfounded warnings that the Federalist Party would forego the will of the people and simply appoint a new, Federalist president.
Compare this to John Adams, who, while certainly desirous of a second term, largely laid low during the turmoil occurring on the other side of the Capitol. When presented with suggestions to keep himself as president, he refused. When asked to annul the election, Adams refused. When asked to stand for himself and campaign in the final months of the election season, and during the contingent election in the House between Jefferson and Burr, Adams refused and stayed silent. He did not cling to power, nor did he view his opinion better than that of the American people who voted for a Republican and the House members who would choose the next presidency. Though he was a lame duck president in every sense of the word, he held true to his convictions of propriety in politics, though privately he fumed.
In this way, though history often sheds more light on the winner, makes historians wonder what other ways “losers” of an election may have impacted our politics and history. An interesting study question for any intrigued historian, but one that Chervinsky shows is vital to understanding American history and modern politics alike.
The National Museum of the United States Army in northern Virginia is well worth a visit. Covering the history of the U.S. Army from colonial beginnings to current operations, it is one of the most impressive museums I’ve seen. Several large galleries focus on major periods of the army’s history, such as the Revolution, Civil War, World War I, World War II, Korea and Vietnam, the Cold War, and current conflicts.
Recently the museum opened a special exhibit on the establishment of the army and the Revolution: “Call To Arms: The Soldier and the Revolutionary War.” It is absolutely outstanding. The exhibit brings together rare items from the army’s collection as well as from museums across the country. The assembly of artifacts is amazing: a cannonball from Trenton, examples of every major type of rifle and musket, a Ferguson Rifle, the sword Cornwallis surrendered at Yorktown, several rare original uniforms, and pistols owned by George Washington.
Flags from the era are extremely rare, and here one can see four original Revolutionary War flags. One of the highlights is that of the Rhode Island Regiment, which has not been out of the state since the Revolution ended.
I’m normally not big on technology but the exhibit featured two well done battle map videos, one on Bunker Hill, the other on Yorktown. A looping video in one corner covered soldier life in camp and on the march, dispelling myths and going into detail about medical care, rations, and more.
For more information about the exhibit, and the museum itself, visit their website:
On July 3, 1775 George Washington formally took command of the Continental Army in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Appointed Commander-in-Chief by the Second Continental Congress on June 15, 1775, Washington arrived in Cambridge on July 3, 1775 and assumed command of a disorganized and poorly supplied force besieging British troops in Boston. His leadership would begin the transformation of colonial militias into a unified fighting force capable of challenging British military power.
Washington’s assumption of command occurred at a time when the American colonies were transitioning from protest to open rebellion. The battles of Lexington and Concord in April 1775 had already ignited armed conflict, and the Battle of Bunker Hill in June had demonstrated that colonial forces could stand up to British regulars, though at great cost. Washington understood the gravity of his new role. In a letter to the President of Congress, he wrote humbly, “I am truly sensible of the high Honor done me in this Appointment… I do not think myself equal to the Command I am honored with.” This characteristic modesty was paired with a strong sense of duty and resolve.
Washington assumes command at Cambridge, Courtesy Library of Congress
On July 3, Washington appeared before his troops on Cambridge Common, dressed in a blue coat with buff facings, signifying his Virginian roots. There is no official transcript of a speech he may have delivered that day, but contemporary accounts describe a solemn and determined atmosphere. One observer, Reverend William Emerson, noted in his diary, “General Washington… is a tall and noble-looking man, commanding the respect of all who see him.”
Washington immediately set to work imposing discipline, organizing supply chains, and creating a chain of command. Though former commander of the army, Major General Artemus Ward, worked hard on instilling discipline, he was not a man that instilled a lot of confidence. Washington was appalled by the state of the army, writing in frustration to Congress: “The Army… is in a very improper condition to carry on a vigorous War.” He introduced regular drills, uniform codes, and standardized procedures, striving to turn the disparate bands of militiamen into a functioning army. As historian David McCullough noted, “It was Washington’s presence alone that gave the army cohesion.”
Despite his military inexperience—Washington never commanded an army of this size—he brought a unifying vision and moral authority. His appointment was also politically astute, bridging the regional divide between New England and the southern colonies. A Virginian leading New England troops sent a clear message of unity in the face of British oppression.
Marker commemorating Washington on the Cambridge Common, photo by William Griffith
The Cambridge encampment remained Washington’s headquarters until March 1776, when he successfully forced the British evacuation of Boston by fortifying Dorchester Heights with cannons brought from Fort Ticonderoga. This early strategic victory, achieved without major bloodshed, was a major morale boost and affirmed Congress’s faith in their commander.
In retrospect, July 3, 1775, was the beginning of an enduring legacy of leadership and a love of Washington by his men and officers. Through discipline, vision, and personal integrity, he began shaping a ragtag collection of volunteers into the Continental Army, laying the groundwork for American independence.
On June 17, 1775, exactly 250 years ago today, American colonists and British troops clashed in one of the most brutal and iconic battles of the Revolutionary War: the Battle of Bunker Hill. Though commonly named after Bunker Hill, most of the fighting actually took place on nearby Breed’s Hill, just outside of Boston. This early engagement proved to be the bloodiest single day of the entire war and signaled that the conflict would be far more deadly and drawn out than many on either side had anticipated.
Following the skirmishes at Lexington and Concord in April 1775, thousands of colonial militia surrounded Boston, trapping British forces inside the city. To break the siege, British commanders planned to seize the heights around the city to gain a strategic advantage. On the night of June 16, colonial forces under Colonel William Prescott stealthily fortified Breed’s Hill, constructing earthworks that overlooked Boston and its harbor.
By dawn on June 17, British General Thomas Gage recognized the threat posed by the colonial position and ordered a frontal assault to dislodge the rebels. British troops, led by General William Howe, launched multiple attacks up the hill and against a rail fence line near the Mystic River under intense colonial fire. The colonists, although poorly supplied and lacking bayonets, held their ground and inflicted staggering casualties on the British ranks.
The first two British assaults were repelled with heavy losses. Only on the third attempt, when the colonists had largely run out of ammunition, were the British able to overrun the position. In the retreat, Jospeh Warren, one of main leaders of the Patriots was shot in the head and killed instantly.
The human cost was enormous. British forces suffered over 1,000 casualties. More than 200 had been killed and more than 800 wounded. The American losses were around 400, with over 100 killed and about 300 wounded. Though technically a British victory because they captured the ground, the Battle of Bunker Hill was a strategic and psychological triumph for the American cause. It showed that colonial forces, mostly farmers, tradesmen, and volunteers, could stand and fight against the professional British army.
For many in the colonies, the blood spilled on Breed’s Hill made reconciliation with Britain increasingly unlikely. The battle hardened public opinion and spurred the Continental Congress to intensify preparations for a long war. Just days before the battle, Congress had appointed George Washington as Commander in Chief. News of the battle reached him as he was traveling north to take command, and it confirmed the scale of the challenge ahead.
Looking back 250 years later, the Battle of Bunker Hill stands as a defining moment in the struggle for American independence. It was not only the bloodiest single day of the war but also the moment when the Revolution became real, marked by sacrifice, courage, and a growing commitment to liberty. The legacy of that day continues to echo across the centuries as a symbol of resistance and the high cost of freedom. While there would be hundreds more battles and skirmishes over the following eight years, no day would see as many casualties in one day as June 17, 1775.
Be sure to check out our Facebook page and YouTube channel later today to see videos from Emerging Revolutionary War historians guiding you on the battlefield today.
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