The Boston Massacre

On March 5, 2016March 5, 2016 By Phill GreenwaltIn Battlefields & Historic Places, Battles, British Leadership, Memory, Monuments, Revolutionary War, UncategorizedLeave a comment

The night was chilly, snow laid on the streets and walks of Boston, and the cold air kept people bundled up around the port town of Massachusetts colony.

Yet, the cold air could not dampen was the seething resentment a growing number of Bostonians were feeling toward the occupying British military. Minor brawls and exchanges had taken place in the various taverns and around the bustling harbor; common places where alcohol and/or hard work created short tempers.

However, on this night, March 5, 1770, outside the Custom House on King Street a British redcoat infantrymen, the sentry, kept his post. Private Hugh White, whose shift it was to stand guard, would have noticed the approach of Edward Garrick, who had come calling for a British officer who owed Garrick’s boss money for his wig services. Unbeknownst to Garrick, the apprentice, the debt had been paid, so no response from the field officer was forthcoming.

old state house — Old State House (Custom House) scene of the Boston Massacre on March 5, 1770

A response from White was forthcoming, who admonished the young man to have a more respectful tone when speaking to an officer in His Majesty, the King’s service. Garrick did not take too kindly to this tone and responded with an insult of his own toward White.

This prompted White to leave his post and literally knock some sense into Garrick by way of a musket strike to the side of the head. Garrick yelped in agony and a companion took up the verbal barrage toward the British soldier.

The cacophony created by the yelling of insults and as the colonial version of a game of telephone spread the message about what was transpiring at the Customs House. Church bells were rung, a telltale sign that something was afoot, led to the crowd surging past 50 in number by the evening.

White, prudently, had left his post and retreated up onto the steps of the Customs House summoned a runner (messenger) to race to the local barracks for extra manpower.As was custom, there was an officer of the watch, in this case, Captain Thomas Preston and seven soldiers responded.

En route, Henry Know, destined to become chief of artillery for the Continental Army in the American Revolution urged Preston, “For God’s sake, take care of your men, if they fire, you must die.”

Against this sage advice, shouts of “Fire” were emanating from the crowd, which had also resorted to throwing snowballs and spitting in the direction of the red-coated soldiers. Other derogatory names for British soldiers, like “lobsterbacks” which took into account the red uniforms adorned by the British infantry were also heard being shouted.

The British soldiers, with loaded muskets, and Captain Preston reached White’s station, the British officer ordered the large crowd to disperse. Preston had taken a position in front of his soldiers and had told a member of the crowd that his soldiers would not fire unless ordered.

No order was ever given.

Shortly after Preston spoke those words to a Bostonian, a foreign object hurtled toward Private Hugh Montgomery and knocked the infantryman off his feet. His musket clattered onto the steps. Standing up, Montgomery reportedly yelled “Damn you, fire!” and pulled the trigger of his musket. The accompanying “bang” reverberated in the square.

download — Copy of the lithograph by Paul Revere on the Boston Massacre

And then there was a pause of an uncertain length.

This silence was broken by the staccato of other muskets being fired. A few rounds belched forth from the British soldiers. Screams and shouts along with deafening echo of the discharge of black-powder muskets in an enclosed city square mixed with the sickening thud of lead impacting bone and body.

All told, eleven colonists were hit from the volley fire. Three were killed outright; Samuel Gray, James Caldwell, and Crispus Attucks. One more, Samuel Maverick, who was struck by a ricocheting round would die later that same evening. One more, a recent immigrant from Ireland, Patrick Carr, would succumb to his wounds a fortnight later.

CrispusAttucks-portrait3 — Early portrait of Crispus Attucks (courtesy of http://crispusattucks.org/)

In the immediate aftermath, Preston would call the majority of his unit, the 29th Regiment of Foot to the scene. With the mob spilling out of the Customs House Square, Governor Thomas Hutchinson, the acting governor, was able to temporarily restore a semblance of tranquility with the promise that a fair trial of what transpired that March 5th evening would happen.

The trial would be a major event for the city of Boston, but, that was in the near future. With the shots fired and the citizens struck, the burgeoning independence movement had a rallying point. Lives were lost that night, but, the events that followed would, to the proponents of American independence, make them martyrs for the cause.

A review of “The Guns of Independence, The Siege of Yorktown, 1781”

On March 2, 2016 By Drew GruberIn Uncategorized3 Comments

A review of The Guns of Independence, The Siege of Yorktown, 1781. By Jerome A. Greene. Published by Savas Beatie, El Durado Hills, CA., 2013.

51sdlOqyG9L._SX331_BO1,204,203,200_ — “The Guns of Independence, the Siege of Yorktown, 1781”

Jerome Greene’s, The Guns of Independence, The Siege of Yorktown, 1781 is a must read for serious and avocational students of the American Revolution. At first glance the 15 chapters and five appendices which confront you at the table of contents appear overwhelming but Greene adeptly weaves the reader through the text with ease. Being familiar with the campaign and other texts which cover it, I found it informative, exciting, comprehensive and yet easy to read.

The first four chapters are aimed at contextualizing the events, armies and commanders as they maneuvered towards and subsequently entrenched at the small port town. Chapters five through ten describe the tightening of the siege around the British, German and Loyalist forces at Yorktown and Gloucester Point while reminding readers about the importance of the naval maneuvers which essentially sealed Cornwallis’s fate. The final five chapters detail the demise of the Crown’s forces at Yorktown, the surrender and post-siege environment. Lastly, the events which transpired between the surrender on October 19, 1781 and the ratification of the Treaty of Paris in 1784 are synopsized, providing a sorely needed reminder that the American Revolution did not end at Yorktown.

` Originally conceived as a training manual for the staff at Colonial National Historical Park during the Bicentennial, readers will find a unique and refreshing text.

Every chapter presents a clear and succinct narrative, punctuated by strong, strategically placed primary source material. Several chapters offer an additional peak into topics or details of the campaign which I’ve come to call ‘breakouts’ since they are not only nicely woven into the text but are also formatted in such a way that you can skim, skip or revisit them and not lose the flow or your place in the primary narrative.

Lami, Eugene-Louis. Storming of a British Redoubt by American Troops at Yorktown, oil on canvas, 1840. Library of Virginia Fine Arts Collection.

For instance, Chapter 3, The British Positions provides both profile drawings of the original earthworks as well as an explanation of 18th-century fortification terms. This is helpful for the advanced student who is interested in the minutia as well as as handy for the casual reader—a forgotten demographic by most history writers. Perhaps just as exciting is Greene’s continued use of archaeological reports throughout the text. I found his use of this material dovetailed flawlessly with the quotes, orderly book entries and other primary sources providing a more complete, evocative and defensible narrative.

Beside being a strong narrative which allows readers to clearly imagine the events of the Siege, Greene produces several interesting maps which, like the ‘breakouts,’ are helpful to both casual visitors to the Yorktown battlefield and devotees of the campaign. Often times, even the most devoted military historian has a hard time following the battle narrative as officers and battalions maneuver, charge and frequently shift across the historical landscape and subsequently, across your page. The author’s maps, organizational charts, photos (despite being in greyscale) and appendices provided me with clear points of reference in the rare instance when I found myself lost or confused.

Perhaps, most importantly, Jerome has inspired this reader to visit the battlefield again, book in hand, to reimagine the events, people and landscape which is just a few miles from my front door. I know in my household that The Guns of Independence will become one of the frequently referenced, dog-eared, highlighted and abused books on our shelves—a sure sign of success.

The “Valley Forge” Winter of the Army of the Potomac

On February 26, 2016 By Chris MackowskiIn Uncategorized2 Comments

Emerging Revolutionary War is pleased to present an excerpt from the forthcoming book Seizing Destiny: The Army of the Potomac’s ‘Valley Forge’ and the Civil War Winter that Saved the Union by Albert Conner, Jr., with Chris Mackowski, published by Savas Beatie. The book likens the AoP’s experience in Stafford County, Virginia, in the winter of 1862-63 to that of Washington’s army outside Philadelphia in the winter of 1777-78. The book contends that the AoP’s resurgence as a result of that winter represented the most significant non-battle turning point of the war. Seizing Destiny will be available the third week of March.

Dissatisfaction swept over the Army of the Potomac like a midwinter blizzard. Morale plummeted. Men grew bitter. Hope froze.

The chill was far worse than anything Rufus Dawes had seen back in Wisconsin, and it was only late December. The 24-year-old major of the 6th Wisconsin Infantry, born on the Fourth of July in 1838, had watched conditions worsen ever since the debacle in Fredericksburg earlier in the month. Major General Ambrose E. Burnside had led the army to its most lopsided defeat of the war thus far, and the ill winds began blustering shortly thereafter. The squall hit furiously, almost as soon as the army retreated across the Rappahannock River into Stafford County.

“The army seems to be overburdened with second rate men in high positions, from General Burnside down,” Dawes wrote. “Common place and whisky are too much in power for the most hopeful future. This winter is, indeed, the Valley Forge of the war.” Continue reading “The “Valley Forge” Winter of the Army of the Potomac” →

HMS Invincible

On February 23, 2016February 15, 2016 By Phill GreenwaltIn Arms & Armaments, Battles, British Leadership, Revolutionary War, UncategorizedLeave a comment

A good friend, knowing my interest in military history brought me a very unique artifact, which led me to discover more about where this piece of history originated from. Here is what I discovered.

Launched in 1741 by the French as L’Invincible, this 74-gun French ship of line was captured by the British during the First Battle of Cape Finisterre on May 14, 1747.

The engagement during the War of the Austrian Sucession, was a five-hour engagement in the Atlantic Ocean, off the coast of northwest Spain. The British admiral, George Anson struck the 30-ship convoy of the French, which was under the command of Admiral de la Jonquiere and captured four ships of the line. One of those ships of the line was the L’Invincible.

The L’Invincible sacrificed itself to allow some of the convoy to escape and tried in vain to fend off six British warships.

L_Invincible_vaisseau_de_74_canons_capture_en_1747 — A depiction of L’Invincible after being captured by the British in 1747

Given its more Anglicized name; HMS Invincible, the ship’s design was larger than the usual 74-gun vessels of the time. Her greater draft and lower center of gravity allowed her to carry much more sail. This allowed the ship to gain more speed.

Altogether her design helped revolutionize British warship making as she was the first 74-gun ship in the British Navy. By the time of the crucial Battle of Trafalgar in 1805, over three-fourths of the entire British Navy were line ships toting 74-guns.

In February 1758 while part of a large sailing of warships and transports, the HMS Invincible that left from St. Helens Roads near the Isle of Wight in England. The ship struck Horse Tail Sandbank and got stuck. Yet with the rising tide she was able to free herself.

Unfortunately, fate had it in for the ship, as the wind suddenly changed direction and increased in intensity and she dragged her anchor on the sandbank. A failed attempt to lighten her cargo and load of armament and putting her under full sail did not work either. She was marooned on the sandbar and began to take on water.

For the next three days, the majority of her cannons and stores were removed and on February 22, 1758 she rolled onto her side and was lost.

HMS Invincible laid wrecked, covered, and largely forgotten until the 20th century, when in May 1979 a local fisherman snagged his nets on the timbers. Local divers found more of the ship and has been investigated and parts recovered ever since.

One of the interesting finds was the experimental flintlocks of the cannons of the HMS Invincible. Rather large, the nicely knapped flints were believed to be used in the canon locks. Canon locks and subsequent flints among the gunnery stores were considered a “unique find.”

A “Large Wedge Type Gun Flint” from the HMS Invincible (author collection)

Fore more information about the ship, the wreck, and the discovery, check out Brian Lavery’s The Royal Navy’s First Invincible. Link to the book via Amazon is here.

Author Interview & Review: Otho Holland Williams in the American Revolution by John Beakes

On February 19, 2016February 12, 2016 By Phill GreenwaltIn Continental Leadership, Memory, Monuments, National Park Service, Personalities, Revolutionary War, Southern Theater, Uncategorized1 Comment

ERW Book Reviews (1)

Numerous biographies grace the shelves of book stores, museum shops, and the personal libraries of American Revolutionary Era history enthusiasts. Yet, until 2015, not a single dedicated biography was written about an extraordinary American general that rose from the ranks during the war to assume such a lofty position by the successful conclusion of the conflict.

That unintentional omission has now been filled with the excellently detailed oriented and primary source driven biography entitled Otho Holland Williams in the American Revolution by John Beakes. The author is a graduate of the United States Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland and a resident of Ellicott City, Maryland.

I had a chance to interview the author via email and one of the questions I asked him was if there was one takeaway you wanted your readers or those interested in the book to know, what would it be? His answer is below and sums up the importance of Williams and soldiers like him:

“Otho Holland Williams was a vibrant, healthy young man with distinctive intellectual gifts and leadership capabilities when he joined the army at age 26 in 1775. Had there been no War of Independence, he might well have lived a long life enjoying the family relationships that he cherished so deeply, and have risen to a position of prominence and wealth.

Instead, Williams died at age 45, spitting up blood and much weakened in body and spirit from the tuberculosis that he had contacted while a prisoner-of-war in New York after the Battle of Fort Washington.

We owe much to the young men like Williams who gave so much in the fight for our nation’s independence, and yet he is largely forgotten.

Here, truly, was a life laid in sacrifice on the altar of our freedom.”

This biography is part of an ongoing effort by The Nautical and Aviation Publishing Company of America to publish a biography on the chief lieutenants that served under and with George Washington and were instrumental in winning American Independence. Previous volumes in the series include titles on John Eager Howard and Henry “Light-Horse” Lee. The series is entitled, “George Washington’s Best Officers Book Series” and definitely worth the read for the enthusiastic and/or serious student of the American Revolution.

otho-holland-williams-american-revolution

So, why was Otho Holland Williams chosen as the third installment? I asked the author and his response is below;

“Otho Holland Williams kept appearing in all of the key moments of the story of the war in the South, but always tantalizingly just beneath the surface, hidden in the shadow of larger figures like Nathanael Greene and Daniel Morgan. Williams was a compelling writer, and his descriptions of battles like Camden and Eutaw Springs are superbly written and deeply insightful observations of a first-hand participant. His leadership of the Screening Force during the Race to the Dan displayed combat leadership skills of the first order, but his life story was largely untold.”

Furthermore, the reader will glean that Williams is the quintessential depiction of the American soldier, rising from the ranks to one of the top positions in the Southern theater by war’s end. The process, superbly told by Beakes, winds the reader from the early days of the revolutionary movement in western Maryland to the Siege of Boston, to the defeats of the New York Campaign. Those achievements and setbacks combined to give Williams the invaluable training as a military officer. For Williams, like a majority of the men who would hold rank in the American forces;

“Military knowledge and experience were scant commodities in the colonies at the start of the Revolutionary War, and young men like Howard, Lee and Williams joined the army in their twenties with virtually no prior military experience. There were no institutions such as military academies, officer candidate schools, or ROTC to help them learn. They read all the available military literature. They observed leaders like Washington, and took in the written guidance that he provided, often in General Orders, for how to develop into effective officers. And most importantly, they learned by experience in the daily rigor of military discipline and in their various combat engagements.

Starting with such “bare bones” learning opportunities, in the short years between 1775 and 1780, when the Southern Campaigns began, these young officers had become exceptional military leaders, and the army that they led was as fine a combat organization as any on earth. It is a story of grit and determination and persistence that brought these young civilians to such a high state of military capability.”

During this early part of the war, Williams also became a prisoner-of-war after the fall of Fort Washington during the New York Campaign of 1776. After being exchanged, Williams would feel the affects of his imprisonment which would eventually cause his death in 1794 from tuberculosis.

Yet Williams, like many other junior officers, are still worth studying in history, as Beakes claims, because,

“With the resources available today, we have a powerful opportunity to take a fresh look at these stories. Unfortunately, our fresh look at original sources sometimes reveals that writers along the way have perpetuated false information, sometimes from honest mistakes, but also sometimes from blatant political motives.

We have an important opportunity to correct the record. Stories like those of Otho Holland Williams give readers a look at the War of Independence from the front-lines and from ground level, a perspective that fills out and enriches the more strategic insights of the well-known works on the Founders.”

This book, like two previous volumes in the series, is definitely a worthy addition to any avid reader of the American Revolutionary Era. If these great in-depth biographies already grace your private library, don’t worry there is more biographies in the works. Beakes is currently working on research for a volume on Baron de Kalb.

Stay tuned and enjoy the read!

*Book Information*

Publisher: The Nautical and Aviation Publishing Company of America
Published Date: November 5, 2015
346 pages, including appendices, bibliography, notes, and index

Click here to view the website where further information, including how to purchase the book, is available.

How Did They Communicate?

On February 16, 2016February 12, 2016 By erwguestIn Armies, Battlefields & Historic Places, Battles, British Leadership, Campaigns, Common Soldier, Hessian (German), Memory, National Park Service, Northern Theater, Personalities, Revolutionary War, Southern Theater, Uncategorized2 Comments

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Robert “Bert” Dunkerly to the blog as the author of this post.

It is well known that German troops (commonly called Hessians) fought alongside the British during the war. One of the more intriguing questions of the Revolution remains; how did they communicate? At any given time, German units could comprise from one third to one half of the larger British armies. They were also present in equal numbers in smaller detachments.

French was a common language that many European officers would have known, and there is evidence that German and English officers communicated in French during campaigns. The language barrier also impacted daily army operations. For example, Georg Pausch of the Hesse-Hanau Artillery requested an English officer who spoke German for a court martial. Yet most of that procedure was conducted in French.

Written orders from General Phillips in Montreal in 1777 to Hessian Artillery units were given in French, suggesting that this was commonly done in these calm, routine situations.

It wasn’t a perfect system but it worked well enough. Adjutant General Major Bauermister of Hesse-Cassel, for example, notes that the English spoke poor French, when communicating with them. Yet what about among small units like companies or battalions?

030_30[1] — Re-enactors portraying the Hesse Kassel Jaeger Korps

Would mediocre command of a language suffice for communication in combat situations? Often small groups of British and German troops operated together on patrols or raids. Marching to Freeman’s Farm (Saratoga) in 1777 was a column that included Germans on the left, English on the right, and English troops as flankers. Such situations required close coordination.

Other times they were side by side on battlefields, such as at the Battle of Guilford Courthouse in 1781, where the German Von Bose Regiment was aligned next to the British 71st Highland Regiment. Close coordination in these cases was essential.

Still another example is from Brandywine, where Captain Johann Ewald wrote that in the army’s advance, were 60 jaegers on foot, fifteen mounted jaegers, a company of Highlanders, and a company of British light infantry. All these troops worked in tandem to protect the army from ambush and clear the way for the advance. Yet Ewald was silent on how they did so.

Captain Ewald, also wrote of his experiences in Virginia, where, in the advance on Richmond, small numbers of troops were interspersed. They marched into the town in this order: Jaegers, British dragoons, more jaegers, and British Light Infantry. There are dozens of other examples.

Despite the many instances of German and British units mingling, there is precious little documentary evidence of how officers, or the common soldiers, communicated. Perhaps they used a combination of French, translators who spoke either English or German, and hand signals or other agreed- upon methods.

Timing and clarity are key in close quarters combat, there is no chance to second guess in an ambush or a raid. There were likely instances of misunderstanding that may have led to mistakes and even led to friendly fire incidents.

Of the many accounts this author has researched, only a few mention how they communicated. Perhaps it was something so mundane, or so well understood, that they saw no need to comment on it in their writings. It is hoped that further research will shed light on this question.

An Introduction to the 8th, or “King’s,” Regiment of Foot

On February 10, 2016 By glindahl87In British Leadership, Common Soldier, Revolutionary War, UncategorizedLeave a comment

Part One

In May of 1768, six years before a column of their peers would march out for Concord, a British Army regiment embarked for North America to relieve the 15^th Regiment on duty in Canada. These soldiers crossing the Atlantic would not see home again for the next seventeen years, many never would at all. In their nearly two decades abroad, these soldiers would participate in raids and expeditions ranging from the Mohawk Valley to present-day St. Louis; center-stage in the political and military game on the frontier of the American Revolution. These soldiers were the men of the 8^th, or King’s, Regiment of Foot.

The 8^th was one of the British Army’s most senior regiments, being formed in 1685 as the “Princess Anne of Denmark’s Regiment of Foot” during the Monmouth Rebellion. The regiment went on to serve illustriously during the first Jacobite Rising. Winning the favor of King George I, they earned his namesake and were granted “royal” status in 1716. The regiment saw combat in the War of Austrian Succession, and also played a crucial part in the 1746 Battle of Culloden in another Jacobite rebellion.

Grenadiers of the 7th, 8th, and 9th Regiments of Foot. Painted by David Morier, ca. 1751-1760

In 1751, the army numbered its regiments by seniority, thus the King’s also became known as the 8^th. The newly-named 8^th Regiment again saw action, this time during the Seven Years’ War. After enjoying a dignified service record for almost a century in Europe, the regiment was on its way to honor itself for the first time on another continent – North America.

The regiment arrived in the summer of 1768 in the St. Lawrence River, landing at the Isle of Orleans. The regiment then deployed to Quebec, Montreal, St. John’s, Fort Chambly, and the surrounding posts. After six years of duty in Canada, the regiment was reassigned. This time, the regiment was to relieve the 10^th Regiment deployed to the “Upper Posts,” a string of fortifications and outposts from Oswego to Detroit that protected the interior of the continent.

The 10^th, probably eager to leave the frontier and return to England, was rerouted to Boston where tensions were rising. Although nobody knew it yet, the 10^th would soon take part in the march to Lexington and Concord on that fateful April morning. While the 10^th sailed toward their destiny, the 8^th settled into their new home in the wilderness.

The companies of the King’s were spread out much like the order of the “line of battle,” the traditional model for organizing companies on the European battlefield. However, instead of companies packed tightly together on one field, the companies were dispersed over some 400 miles. One of the regiment’s two flank companies, the light infantry company, garrisoned Oswegatchie on the banks of the St. Lawrence. The other flank company, the grenadier company, and one of the eight battalion companies garrisoned the westernmost post at Fort Michilimackinac where British civilization ended and the wilderness began. The remaining seven battalion companies garrisoned the major hubs of British trade on the Great Lakes, Fort Niagara (four) and Detroit (three).

8th Belt Plate and Button — A belt plate and button of the 8th Regiment of Foot. Notice the “Ks” as an abbreviation for “King’s” on the button.

As the winter of 1774/75 slowly passed, the men of the King’s most likely made every attempt to escape the harsh winters on the Great Lakes by their fires, unknowing of the blaze that would come in the spring and engulf their world for the next eight years.

Winter, 1777

On February 4, 2016January 27, 2016 By Phill GreenwaltIn Armies, Battlefields & Historic Places, Common Soldier, Continental Leadership, National Park Service, Northern Theater, Personalities, Revolutionary War, UncategorizedLeave a comment

Part Three

On February 23, 1778, Baron Friedrich Wilhelm von Steuben arrived at the Continental Army encampment at Valley Forge. He quickly ingratiated himself with George Washington and the commanding general’s cadre of staff officers. John Laurens would write a fortnight later;

“The Baron Steuben has had the fortune to please uncommonly….All the genl officers who have seen him, are prepossessed in his favor, and conceive highly of his abilities… The General [Washington] seems to have a very good opinion of him, and thinks he might be usefully employed in the office of inspector general…”

Steuben would assume the “acting” inspector general position three days after John Laurens penned the above letter, on March 12, 1778. Five days later, Steuben’s plan to train the Continental Army was approved by Washington. The transformation could begin.

Who was this “acting” soon-to-be permanent inspector general of the Continental Army? Steuben was born on September 17, 1730 in the Duchy of Magdeburg, in what is now eastern Germany. He journeyed with his father at age 14 on his first military campaign and joined the military at the young age of 17.

The last thirteen years before coming to America he had served in an administrative capacity for the Furst Josef Friedrich Wilhelm of Hohenzollern-Hechingen and was made a baron in 1771.

The baron arrived on American soil on December 1, 1777 and two months later arrived in York, Pennsylvania where he met with the Continental Congress on February 5, 1778. He found his way quickly to Washington’s encampment at Valley Forge.

On March 19, 1778, the first squad of men from the Continental Army undertook their first lesson with the baron. After learning the English words needed, von Steuben tasked each soldier of the 100 man squad to mirror him. The selected squad would follow the different maneuvers while listening to the baron “singing out the cadence.” While the squad went through their drills, another selected squad of onlookers studied the movements and then carried the drills to others.

von-steuben-drilling-troops — Edwin Austin Abbey painting of von Steuben and the drilling of American soldiers at Valley Forge

The baron’s unique training regimens showed almost instant results, as von Steuben attested within a fortnight of the start of training. The soldiers “were perfect in their manual exercise; had acquired a military air; and knew how to march, to form column, to deploy, and to execute some little maneuvers with admirable precision.”

By the end of March, with Washington’s blessing, the entire army went under the drill regimen as instructed by von Steuben. The Prussian “acting” inspector general put his mark on all aspects of camp life as evidenced by the routine the soldiers adhered to while becoming acquainted with the manual of arms. “At nine a.m….new commands explained to each regiment at parade, then practice. By late afternoon, regiments were practicing by brigades.”

When a soldier fumbled a maneuver or the squad was not crisply moving through the drills, the baron’s temper would get the best of him and he would unleash a slew of epithets that was a unique blend of French and German with a few words of English sprinkled in for good measure.

The silver lining in these outbursts occurred when the baron would politely and calmy ask one of his assistant to translate into English the curse word of the moment. A light-hearted moment came when von Stueben asked his translator one time to, “come and swear for me in English, these fellows won’t do what I bid them.”

However, von Steuben won the trust of his trainees, as he instilled a sense of pride, of soldierly bearing, and when he did have his outbursts, those moments just underscored his similarities to the men he was training. As one biographer accurately summed up these occasions, the outbursts “humanized him” in the eyes of the rank-and-file.

There was one little secret that only the baron and his small staff were privy too; von Steuben was making up the drill and routine practices employed each day as he went along!

After the drilling of that day was completed and the baron snatched a quick bite to eat, von Steuben was off to his quarters where he scribbled out the lessons to be taught the following day.

Along with drill, camp life even improved, as von Steuben mandated changes that improved camp sanitation, which in turn, reduced sickness among the rank and file. By the end of the encampment, von Steuben controlled, according to historian Herman O. Benninghoff II, “the Valley Forge soldier’s introduction to command and control.”

On April 1, 1778, John Laurens wrote to his father and president of the Continental Congress, Henry Laurens about the major impact of von Steuben.

“Baron Steuben is making sensible progress with our soldiers. The officers seem to have a high opinion of him…It would enchant you to see the enlivened scene [of camp at Valley Forge]…If Mr. [Sir William] Howe opens the campaign with his usual deliberation, we shall be infinitely better prepared to meet him than we have ever.”

By May 1778 a Board of War member, a committee formed by the Continental Congress the previous year, wrote to a fellow board member the following lines, “America will be under lasting Obligations to the Baron Steuben as the Father of it. He is much respected by the Officers and beloved by the Soldiers themselves…I am astonished at the Progress he has made with the Troops.”

A fitting compliment came from the pen of George Washington who wrote to von Steuben near the end of the encampment at Valley Forge that “the army has derived every advantage from the institution under you, that could be expected in so short a time.”

Before von Steuben could finish the drilling of the soldiery that winter, the British stirred from their perch in Philadelphia and the lessons on the snowy plains of Valley Forge would be put to the test.

Was it Murder in Virginia?

On January 28, 2016January 29, 2016 By Mark WilcoxIn Uncategorized2 Comments

“You slander my family. With God’s help I’ll dance in your blood you course, Presbyterian fellow!” Shortly after these angry words were shouted, a man lay dead on the floor of an out-of-the-way tavern in what was then Cumberland County, Virginia. Now a mere footnote in our local history, to be sure, but at the time this event and what would follow was one of the most talked-about sensations of the day. Sign

It was June 1766 and the dead man was a transplanted Scotsman; a merchant and landowner by the name of Robert Routledge. He had lived in Virginia for only a short time. It was rumored he’d ridden with Charles Stuart, “Bonnie Prince Charlie” in Scotland in 1745. By the 1760’s he seemed to be making his way in the world of Virginia but apparently to the chagrin of some of the more established men of the colony who saw him as nothing more than a common upstart. One man in particular would play an important role in this tale. His name was Colonel John Chiswell and it would be at the point of his own sword that Robert Routledge would meet his violent end.

Chiswell was born at Scotchtown in Hanover County. A member of the Virginia elite from birth, by 1766 he was living in a beautiful home in the capital city of Williamsburg. Due to a string of poor investments, though, Col. Chiswell found himself deeply in debt. He did, however, own an interest in a lead mine venture in the New River Valley, in the western portion of the colony. By all accounts, Chiswell was a rather arrogant man and accustomed to giving orders. In June 1766, he and some companions were riding east from the mines, heading for Williamsburg and home.

While slowly meandering through Cumberland County along what was then called the Middle Road (now US Route 60) the party decided to stop for the night at a road-side establishment, Mosby Tavern. Built by Benjamin Mosby in 1740, the tavern was well-known to westward bound travelers of the day. In the 19^th Century the place would also be familiar to Benjamin Mosby’s kinsman, the Confederate guerrilla chieftain John Singleton Mosby. Privately owned, the old tavern still stands along Route 60 in what is now Powhatan County.

The story goes that Mr. Routledge and Col. Chiswell knew one another. Not companions by any stretch but they certainly were acquainted. Later that evening in Mosby’s taproom both men dined separately with friends and downed numerous tankards of Rum. And, as is normally the case, the alcohol soon began to take effect as the evening wore on. From the eyewitness accounts we know that Col. Chiswell, in his jubilance regarding the hoped-for success of his lead mine enterprise, became a little loud and boisterous. He began to swear or to “utter certain oaths”, happy in the prospects of his impending wealth.

Apparently Robert Routledge took umbrage at the remarks and took the colonel to task for “swearing and talking as you do among such good company”. To Col. Chiswell, Routledge was certainly not a member of the Virginia gentry. He was a commoner, an upstart and certainly no one to correct his speech or instruct him on the proper discourse of a gentleman. Tempers began to flare and soon the men were standing in the middle of the taproom, on legs made wobbly from the drink. Routledge suddenly raised his tankard and threw liquor onto the face and clothes of Chiswell. The Virginian exploded in a rage and called for his sword. He ordered Routledge to depart from the room! “You are not worthy to appear in such company. If you do not get out immediately I’ll kill you!

What happened next is a bit murky and accounts from those present that evening tend to differ. Some say that Routledge, in a spirit of friendship, attempted to assuage the anger of the man standing before him. He moved forward, his arms raised in hopes of placating Chiswell. In response, they say Col. Chiswell ran Routledge through with his sword, murdering the Scotsman in cold blood. Sword3

But John Chiswell would tell a different tale. It was his claim that Routledge was drunk, which he most likely was, and in moving towards him apparently stumbled over his own feet. Stumbling forward, according to Chiswell, Routledge accidently fell onto the colonel’s sword! It was not murder, he claimed, but purely a tragic accident.

John Chiswell was arrested and later remanded to the General Court in Williamsburg for trial. In cases of possible homicide, it was not the court’s custom to grant bond (bail). However, three of the court’s justices took an interest in the question of bond. After questioning Colonel Chiswell and the Cumberland bailiff who escorted him to Williamsburg, and discussing the matter with the eminent legal minds of the colony, including George Wythe, the justices determined that bond should be granted and Col. John Chiswell was allowed to await his day in court in the comfort of his own home.

This case promised to be the “Trial of the Century”. It was known and discussed throughout the colony and especially so in Williamsburg. Many residents there considered the episode to be scandalous. They believed a wealthy man was getting away with murder. It was so scandalous that for months local newspapers printed stories accusing the justices of showing partiality to an arrogant, wealthy man due only to his social status. Chiswell was under de facto house arrest as crowds gathered daily in front of his home in protest. The fact that the justices in this case, William Byrd, III, Presley Thornton, and John Blair, were all companions and even business associates of the accused, only made matters worse.

Chiswell House — Chiswell-Bucktrout House

Mysteriously in October 1766, before the case could come to trial, Col. John Chiswell was found dead in his home. It was suspected that, not having the strength to endure the scandal and the scrutiny of his fellow citizens, Chiswell took his own life. The coroner’s report, however, simply stated that John Chiswell died from “nervous fits, owing to a constant uneasiness of the mind.” It should be noted that the Coroner was also a companion of Col. Chiswell.

With suicide suspected, the Chiswell family was not allowed to bury the deceased colonel in the graveyard at Bruton Parish Church in Williamsburg. Instead, the body was taken by cart to the place of his birth, back to Scotchtown in Hanover County. The colonel’s daughter was abiding there at the time. But John Chiswell would not rest in peace even after arriving at the beautiful home he knew as a child, or not yet anyway. Fearing that he had possibly posed his own death as a means of avoiding trial and the gallows, the family and friends of Robert Routledge gathered in the yard of Scotchtown and awaited the arrival of the body. They insisted the coffin be opened, much to the heart-felt agony of the widow, so that the body could be positively identified as that of Col. Chiswell. It was so identified; as a matter of fact, one of the men there that day and who recognized the visage of Chiswell was the future owner of Scotchtown himself, Patrick Henry. Mr. Henry noted afterwards that the skin on the face of Chiswell had turned black, a sure sign of arsenic.

It was a scandalous and sensational story and certainly the “OJ Simpson Case” of its day. Most people of colonial Virginia knew of it and yet, today, the story is not very well known at all. How many other stories like this one are out there, waiting to be discovered?

“The Hard Winter” of 1779-1780

On January 23, 2016January 31, 2021 By Mark MaloyIn Uncategorized13 Comments

Most Americans take time to reflect on the meaning of independence and the sacrifice of the founding generation of Americans around the 4^th of July or on their summer vacations visiting Colonial Williamsburg, Independence Hall, or Boston’s Freedom Trail. However, the story of the American Revolution is best told in the freezing days of winter. As the mid-Atlantic region of the United States hunkers down for snow, it does well to remember what was the absolute worst winter in the 18^th century: the “hard winter” of 1779-1780.

hut_building — The army had to construct their winter quarters with a foot of snow already on the ground.

The winter that year was bad. Over the course of the winter, New Jersey had twenty six snowstorms and six of those were blizzards! Every saltwater inlet from North Carolina to Canada froze over completely. In fact, New York Harbor froze over with ice so thick that British soldiers were able to march from Manhattan to Staten Island.

George Washington decided to place his army at Morristown, New Jersey for winter quarters. When they arrived at the encampment site in November 1779 there was already a foot of snow on the ground. Some snowfalls dropped more than four feet of snow with snow drifts over six feet. The temperature only made it above freezing a couple times in the whole winter. Officers remembered ink freezing in their quill pens and one surgeon recorded that “we experienced one of the most tremendous snowstorms ever remembered; no man could endure its violence many minutes without danger to his life. … When the storm subsided, the snow was from four to six feet deep, obscuring the very traces of the roads by covering fences that lined them.”

keeping_warm — Soldiers attempting to stay warm in the worst winter of the 18th century.

Because of the severity of the winter, provisioning almost 10,000 soldiers was nearly impossible. A soldier in the Connecticut Line, Joseph Plumb Martin remembered “We were absolutely literally starved; – I do solemnly declare that I did not put a single morsel of victuals into my mouth for four days and as many nights, except for a little black birch bark which I gnawed off a stick of wood, if that can be called victuals. I saw several of the men roast their old shoes and eat them, and I was afterward informed by one of the officer’s waiters, that some of the officers killed and ate a favorite little dog that belonged to one of them.”

Even General Washington noted after the winter that “The oldest people now living in this Country do not remember so hard a winter as the one we are now emerging from. In a word the severity of the frost exceeded anything of the kind that had ever been experienced in this climate before.” This came from the man who had suffered the terrible winter of 1776-1777 when his army had to cross an ice-choked Delaware River and who had witnessed thousands of his men die in the freezing winter of 1777-1778 at Valley Forge.

Jockey Hollow Cemetery Marker — Marker for the men who didn’t survive the winter of 1779-1780.

Despite the severity of this “hard winter” in 1779-1780 at Morristown, Americans tend to think that Valley Forge was the worst winter of the war. This probably has to do with the fact more soldiers died of disease at Valley Forge than at Morristown. While about 2,000 soldiers perished at Valley Forge, ‘only’ about 100 died at Morristown. Also, the Continental army underwent an amazing transformation at Valley Forge, becoming a professional army. The Morristown encampment, however, resulted in angry and hungry soldiers causing a mutiny that had to be put down. Joseph Plumb Martin remembered how he and his fellow soldiers were “venting our spleen at our country and government, then at our officers, and then at ourselves for our imbecility in staying there and starving in detail for an ungrateful people who did not care what became of us, so they could enjoy themselves while we were keeping a cruel enemy from them.”

So this winter, as you dig out your driveway or your car over the next few days, take a moment and imagine what the soldiers in Washington’s army had to endure at Morristown in 1779-1780. Next time you are in New Jersey or New York City make a point to visit the site of that encampment preserved by the National Park Service. Visiting on a cold day will give you a small taste of the elements they endured. These soldiers’ dedication to duty helped keep the light of liberty alive through an extremely “hard winter.”

Emerging Revolutionary War Era

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