The 27-year-old from Thetford, Norfolk, England native had a long journey before he even sailed across the Atlantic Ocean for the colonies. Although receiving an education until age 13, and an apprenticeship with his father until age 19, both uncommon among his peers, Thomas Paine started his professional career as a privateer. It did not suit him for long, he returned to Britain in 1759. Paine then became a staymaker, and within several years, opened his own store in Sandwich, Kent. By the end of the same year, Paine had married.
Life seemed to be set for the young couple, but tragedy after tragedy ultimately led Paine to the American colonies. Paine’s shop ran into financial challenges not long after his nuptials, and although offset by the joy of pregnancy, a relocation to a new town may have been too much on Mary. She went into early labor, and both mother and child tragically died during the delivery. A series of moves, career changes, and troubles dotted the next dozen years.
A supernumerary, Excise Officer, staymaker, schoolteacher, were all ahead of time. Charges of fraud and dismissal were as well. By the age of 31, in 1768, Paine’s next professional endeavor took him to Lewes in Sussex. Over the ensuing years in Lewes, a town with a long history of opposition to the monarchy and republican sentiments, Paine became a member of the Court Leet and parish vestry, worked as a tobacconist and grocer, and married for the second the time.
Thomas Paine
By 1772, Paine wrote his first political piece. His time in his home country was now on the clock. By the spring of 1774, following his political priorities and ideologies, Paine had all but abandoned his post as an excise officer and was essentially fired. He next separated from his second wife, Elizabeth, and moved to London. It was while in London that Paine met Benjamin Franklin who suggested he emigrate to Philadelphia. Paine did exactly that.
His journey through life was turbulent, even more so during the first half of the 1770s, just like his voyage across the Atlantic on his to Philadelphia in the Pennsylvania colony. The water supplies aboard the ship were dreadful, and typhoid raged across the decks of the vessel. Paine was barely alive by the time the ship reached Philadelphia. He was so ill he was unable to leave the docked boat under his own power, Benjamin Franklin sending his personal physician to the ship and have him carried off. Yet, on this date, November 30, 250 years ago, Thomas Paine had arrived to the American colonies. After six weeks of recovery his new journey, a journey shared by all those that were to be swept up in the American Revolution, began.
Less than two years after landing in Philadelphia, Paine published his work Common Sense. Coupled with a series of works entitled The Crises, Paine, “ignited a nation to help the failing cause of the Revolution.”
George Washington issued the first Presidential Thanksgiving Proclamation on October 3, 1789, designating Thursday, November 26, 1789, as a day of public thanksgiving and prayer. This was the first national Thanksgiving proclamation under the new Constitution, and it reflected Washington’s deep belief in the importance of gratitude to God for the blessings enjoyed by the new nation.
Here is the full text of his proclamation:
George Washington’s Thanksgiving Proclamation (1789)
By the President of the United States of America, a Proclamation:
Whereas it is the duty of all Nations to acknowledge the providence of Almighty God, to obey his will, to be grateful for his benefits, and humbly to implore his protection and favor, and whereas both Houses of Congress have by their joint Committee requested me “to recommend to the People of the United States a day of public thanksgiving and prayer to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many signal favors of Almighty God especially by affording them an opportunity peaceably to establish a form of government for their safety and happiness.”
Now therefore I do recommend and assign Thursday the 26th day of November next to be devoted by the People of these States to the service of that great and glorious Being, who is the beneficent Author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be—That we may then all unite in rendering unto him our sincere and humble thanks—for his kind care and protection of the People of this Country previous to their becoming a Nation—for the signal and manifold mercies, and the favorable interpositions of his Providence which we experienced in the course and conclusion of the late war—for the great degree of tranquillity, union, and plenty, which we have since enjoyed—for the peaceable and rational manner in which we have been enabled to establish constitutions of government for our safety and happiness, and particularly the national One now lately instituted—for the civil and religious liberty with which we are blessed; and the means we have of acquiring and diffusing useful knowledge; and in general for all the great and various favors which he hath been pleased to confer upon us.
And also that we may then unite in most humbly offering our prayers and supplications to the great Lord and Ruler of Nations and beseech him to pardon our national and other transgressions—to enable us all, whether in public or private stations, to perform our several and relative duties properly and punctually—to render our national government a blessing to all the People, by constantly being a Government of wise, just, and constitutional laws, discreetly and faithfully executed and obeyed—to protect and guide all Sovereigns and Nations (especially such as have shown kindness unto us) and to bless them with good government, peace, and concord—To promote the knowledge and practice of true religion and virtue, and the increase of science among them and us—and generally to grant unto all mankind such a degree of temporal prosperity as he alone knows to be best.
Given under my hand at the City of New York the third day of October in the year of our Lord 1789.
—George Washington
This proclamation set a tone of humility, gratitude, and recognition of divine providence that continues to influence the American tradition of Thanksgiving. We with Emerging Revolutionary War hope everyone have a safe and enjoyable Thanksgiving.
For nearly five years we have been bringing you our Rev War Revelry podcasts every other week. In the beginning, these podcasts were just our ERW team chatting about topics in early American history. We thought it be good to get the band back together again and catch up on all our projects, debate history and make fun of Mark Maloy’s love of the movie Patriot. Grab a drink and join in the discussion via the chat.
Valley Forge consists of acres of undulating countryside where General George Washington and some 11,000 Continental Army troops spent the winter of 1777-1778. Today, it is one of the nation’s most hallowed shrines. Few, if any, modern visitors recognize the woman who fought to save it, nor her heroic work as a nurse during the American Civil War.
Anna Morris Ellis was born in Muncy, Pennsylvania, on April 9, 1824. On September 26, 1848, she married William Hayman Holstein. At 38 years old, Anna became involved in the Union army’s war effort during the American Civil War after the battle of Antietam in September 1862. Her husband returning home after serving a 90-day enlistment, told of wounded men lying in barns and fields around Sharpsburg, Maryland because there weren’t enough medical corpsmen. Despite an overhaul to the Union Army of the Potomac’s Medical Department by Dr. Jonathan Letterman earlier that summer, the combined evacuation of the Virginia Peninsula from their failed late spring and summer campaigns and the Second Manassas campaign outside of Washington, D.C. in August had left this medical department in a state of chaos, confusion, and wholly unprepared to meet the medical needs of such another large scale engagement as Antietam. Anna and her husband William immediately left for the Antietam battlefield in response to the distressing scenes he had painted for her.
Anna Morris Ellis Holstein
The Holstein’s served for months around the Antietam battlefield, caring for the sick and wounded. Their role as post-battle caretakers continued just a month after the battle of Gettysburg when the large army field hospital of Camp Letterman opened just east of the borough on the York Road. This time, however, Anna was already numbed to the scenes of shattered limbs and the despondently ill wearied from disease. By this time her husband had secured a position with the U.S. Sanitary Commission which also setup at Gettysburg to aid the wounded and sick in the wake of the battle. That agency, along with the U.S. Christian Commission, offered supplies and personages to aid in the aftermath of not only Gettysburg, but other battles in the final years of the war.
Anna’s role for caring for those soldiers left behind by both armies was significant. She was made matron-in-chief of Camp Letterman by Dr. Cyrus Nathaniel Chamberlain, which, under her and Chamberlain’s care, attended to over 3,000 wounded soldiers. Anna continued to work at Camp Letterman until it closed on November 19, 1863. Later that day, both her and her husband sat on the platform near Abraham Lincoln while he delivered the Gettysburg Address. Following her work at Gettysburg, Anna continued to nurse the sick and wounded back to health. By the end of the Civil War in 1865 and into 1866, she worked as a matron in a hospital in Annapolis, Maryland, caring for returned prisoners of war that were sick or wounded.
In the post Civil War years, Anna turned to the preservation of the places and material culture from America’s first war for independence. She was no stranger to the importance of this era and the necessity of keeping the memory of those that served during that turbulent era alive for future generations. Anna’s great-grandfather was Capt. Samuel Morris. Morris was the captain of the First City Troop of Philadelphia when it served as George Washington’s body guard. Captain Morris was with Washington during the Ten Crucial Days and was on the field him at the battles of Trenton and Princeton. Morris even earned the sobriquet as leader of the “fighting Quakers.” Anna’s grandfather, Richard Wells, also served the American cause. He was commissioned to provision the U.S. fleet on the Delaware River during the revolutionary war.
One of her first missions was to save and restore George Washington’s Virginia estate, Mount Vernon. The home had fallen into significant disrepair, with the recent war years only aiding to its material decay. Both Anna and her husband, who also had strong ancestral ties to the War for Independence, were among the first to promote the struggles at Mount Vernon, the necessity for saving it, and the fundraising to back those plans. It was her skills in fundraising so successfully for Mount Vernon that led her to be named as regent for the Valley Forge Centennial and Memorial Association. Anna also was one of the founders, and also named regent as well, of the Valley Forge Chapter of the D.A.R.
By 1878, The Centennial and Memorial Association of Valley Forge, was incorporated in Montgomery County, Pennsylvania. Once incorporated, she led the charge as regent to save, acquire, restore and preserve General Washington’s Valley Forge Headquarters and surrounding acreage as parcels became available. Much needed funds for this charge would be needed, however. On June 19, 1878, to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the Continental Army marching out of Valley Forge, the Association held a large, organized event. With the funds generated from the anniversary commemoration, the Association was able to not only purchase General Washington’s Headquarters, but also additional acreage around the farm complex. They were also able to purchase original artifacts to place in the home, begin renovations to restore the home back to its 1777-78 appearance, and plant a tree from Washington’s Mt. Vernon on the property.
By 1893, when the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania assumed control of the camp sites and headquarters at Valley Forge, with Anna credited as the person “to whom the Nation is indebted more than any other” for her tireless efforts to ensure this national shrine was preserved and protected in perpetuity. Decades later, the National Park Service would assume ownership and operational leadership of the park from the state of Pennsylvania.
Anna and William’s home still stands in King of Prussia, Pennsylvania today at 211 Henderson Road. In 2021 the Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission placed a marker at the entrance drive to the home. Anna’s work at saving material culture from the Revolutionary War and ensuring the legacy of the veterans of that conflict lived on was vast. Hopefully this small summation of her activities inspires others to dig deeper into her efforts.
Not long ago, a good friend of mine found himself in Henry County, Va. Located southwest of Richmond, the county was named for the patriot, Patrick Henry, in 1777. Touring a local cemetery there, my friend came upon a very interesting headstone. It was the grave marker for a soldier of the American Revolution; a man named Thomas Pearson.
Grave of Thomas Pearson
According to the headstone, Thomas Pearson had served in the Virginia Continental Line and in May 1780, was wounded in battle against the British in South Carolina. My friend sent me a photograph of the headstone. Based on the place and date, he was hoping this Thomas Pearson had perhaps served at the battle of Camden. As a co-author of a book on Camden, I have to admit that I was quite intrigued myself.
But, based on my research for the book, I knew immediately that certain pieces of information on the man’s epitaph didn’t correspond to details of the Camden fight. First off, it indicates that Thomas Pearson served in the Virginia Continental Line. The Virginians engaged at Camden were actually not part of the Continental Line but, rather, state militia forces commanded by Gen. Edward Stevens. In fact, most of the troops of the Virginia Continental Line were captured by the British at the fall of Charleston on May 12, 1780.
The epitaph also reads that Pearson was wounded in May 1780, in South Carolina. The battle of Camden occurred later, on August 16, so most likely this gentleman wasn’t there. Still, the gravestone intrigued me. I decided to do a little research into Thomas Pearson and sadly, I was to discover that his story was a tragic one.
On November 30, 1812, at the age of 61, Thomas Pearson applied for a pension for his services in the Revolutionary War from the Commonwealth of Virginia. According to his application, he was “a soldier in the revolutionary war, belonging to the VA Line on continental establishment, and attached to the regiment commanded by Col. Abraham Buford.” Clearly, he was a veteran of the southern campaign.
In May 1780, he was indeed serving in the Virginia Continental Line, as an officer of the 3rd Virginia Detachment of Scott’s Virginia Brigade. Commanded by Col. Abraham Buford of Culpepper County, VA, the 3rd Detachment, nearly 400 strong, was marching into South Carolina to the relief of the City of Charleston, which was under siege by the British. The city fell before Buford’s column could reach it, however. Afterwards, Buford received orders from Brig. Gen. Isaac Huger to fall back to Hillsborough, NC. In Charleston, British Lt. Gen. Charles, Earl Cornwallis, who would soon assume command of all British forces in the south, learned of the existence of these Patriot reinforcements. On May 27, he sent troops in pursuit. They were mounted troops of the British Legion, mostly loyalists under the command of the infamous Lt. Col. Banastre Tarleton. Throughout the southern campaign, the 26-year-old Tarleton would establish for himself a reputation for cruelty and blood lust that was unsurpassed. Some of the acts attributed to him during this period were true and some were not, but his dubious reputation would become cemented in the minds of many Americans during this episode.
Lt. Col. Banastre Tarleton
Tarleton set out in pursuit of Abraham Buford’s troops on May 27, leading around 300 of his Legion dragoons, some mounted infantry, and a detachment of the 17th Light Dragoons. Having a reputation for driving his forces unmercifully, Tarleton’s troops were able to quickly catch up, and closed in on Buford’s Virginians on May 29, on the border of North and South Carolina. It was farming country here, known as the Waxhaws.
When the two forces were still some miles apart, Tarleton issued a call for surrender, under a white flag of truce. In his message he wrote: “Resistance being vain, to prevent the effusion of human blood, I make offers which can never be repeated.” After conferring with his officers, Col. Buford made the decision to refuse Tarleton’s offer. He replied: “I reject your proposals, and shall defend myself to the last extremity.” The Patriot force then continued its march north towards Hillsborough, with Tarleton’s troopers continuing the pursuit.
By mid-afternoon of the 29th, Tarleton’s lead elements caught up with Buford’s column, attacking and destroying the small rear guard. Commanding that rear guard was Lieut. Thomas Pearson. Witnesses said that Pearson was sabered and knocked from his horse. While he lay on the ground, he continued to receive wounds; his face was mangled and there were cuts across his nose, lips, and tongue. Col. Buford halted his column, deploying his infantry in a single line across an open field, east of the Rocky River Road. He then issued a questionable order: his men were told to hold their fire until the dragoons were almost on top of them and then unleash a volley at point-blank range. When the charge came, the Virginians followed orders; they held their fire until the British were about 10 yards away. While their one volley did manage to empty a few enemy saddles, it wasn’t nearly enough and now the Virginians had no time to re-load their muskets. In a flash, Tarleton’s troopers were in among the Continentals, hacking men down with their sabers, wholesale.
Quickly realizing the battle was lost, Buford sent forward a white flag of surrender. About this time, Tarleton’s horse was killed, going down and momentarily trapping its rider. Some of his nearby troops became enraged, believing the Patriots were not honoring their own white flag. These troops are said to have continued sabering Patriot soldiers as they tried to surrender. Abraham Buford and some of his troops did manage to escape the field but his command was destroyed. Continental casualties totaled around 113 killed, 147 wounded, and 50 captured. Two Patriot 6-pounder artillery pieces and 26 baggage wagons were likewise captured. Compared to this, Tarleton’s losses were negligible. The battle would long be remembered as “Buford’s Massacre” and many of the Patriot dead lie today in a mass grave at the battlefield site.
Mass Grave at the Waxhaws battle site
Banastre Tarleton’s reputation for cruelty was established at the Waxhaws. Nicknames like “Bloody Ban” and “Bloody Tarleton” began to be used to describe him and the phrase “Tarleton’s Quarter” would become a Patriot battle cry.
Even though severely wounded in this action, Lieut. Thomas Pearson managed to survive his injuries, living until 1835. He was 84 when he died; his last years were hard on him. According to his pension application, he “received sundry wounds in his head and arms, which have rendered him, in his present advanced stage of life, incapable of maintaining himself by labour (sic).” On January 12, 1813, the Commonwealth of Virginia granted Pearson’s request for relief. He received an immediate payment of $50, with an annual pension payment of $60.
Today, this Revolutionary War veteran lies at rest in a quiet cemetery in Henry County, VA.
On August 30, 1774, two Virginians arrived by carriage at George Washington’s home, Mount Vernon. It was Patrick Henry and Edmund Pendleton. Henry and Pendleton planned to spend the night at Mount Vernon and on the morning of August 31, 1774 they would depart with Washington to go to Philadelphia and attend the First Continental Congress. These three Virginians would be joined in Philadelphia by Richard Henry Lee, Peyton Randolph, Benjamin Harrison, and Richard Bland to form the Virginia delegation at the congress. This was the first time delegates from twelve of the American colonies met in the lead up to the Revolutionary War.
The west front of the mansion at Mount Vernon. From the doorway here, Martha Washington bid farewell to her husband on August 31, 1774. (Wikimedia)
They had no idea what this congress would lead to. For the first time, men from colonies as far north as New Hampshire and far south as South Carolina would be meeting. The disparate colonies were coming together in response to the British Parliament’s harsh measures levied earlier that year.
As the three Virginians left Mount Vernon on August 31, Edmund Pendleton remembered how Martha Washington bid them goodbye. She had no idea that the events that would follow would result in her husband being gone from Mount Vernon for nearly eight years.
Pendleton wrote: “I was most pleased with Mrs. Washington and her spirit. She seemed ready to make any sacrifice and was cheerful though I knew she felt anxious. She talked like a Spartan mother to her son going to battle. ‘I hope you will stand firm – I know George will,’ she said. The dear little woman was busy from morning to night in domestic duties, but she gave us much time in conversation and affording us entertainment. When we set off in the morning, she stood in the door and cheered us with the good words, ‘God be with you gentlemen.’”
Make sure to follow Emerging Revolutionary War on Facebook as we attend events to mark the 250th anniversary of the First Continental Congress next weekend in Philadelphia. We will be doing videos throughout the weekend and will post them later to our YouTube channel.
On September 1, 1774 Massachusetts was on the brink of war. General Thomas Gage, now Governor of Massachusetts was growing more worried about Whig access to gunpowder and weapons. He made a fateful decision to send a small expedition to retrieve the provincial powder stored in Charlestown. This powder in Gages’ mind, was owned by the King. Local leaders felt otherwise and now this grab for powder by Gage nearly sparked war in 1774.
As word of the Boston Tea Party reached the other colonies, the response was mixed. Most colonists believed Bostonians should pay for the ruined tea, but they were also overwhelmingly shocked by the harshness of the Coercive Acts. Support from across the 13 colonies began to pour into Boston. Using an already established “Committee of Correspondence” network created in the early 1770s, colonial leaders began to discuss a proper reaction. Boycotts on imports of British goods and tea especially were accepted broadly. But most importantly, 12 colonies (Georgia abstained) sent representatives to a “Continental Congress” in Philadelphia in September 1774. Unlike the previous Stamp Act Congress, the First Continental Congress was attended by the majority of American colonies. The Congress encouraged boycotts and also petitioned the King and Parliament to rescind the Coercive Acts. In response to their planned attendance, Governor Gage dissolved the Massachusetts Provincial Assembly before the Continental Congress met and called for new elections. This did not deter them from sending representatives (John Adams, Samuel Adams, Thomas Cushing, and Robert Treat Paine) to Philadelphia.
Charlestown (now Somerville) Powder House, ca. 1935
Back in Massachusetts, Gage became wearier of his situation and the possibility of open conflict with colonists. He was active in paying informants and gaining information from local Tories (those loyal to the British government). These sources informed Gage that the people of the countryside were beginning to arm themselves. In an effort to deny them use of the official Royal arms and powder stored across the colony, he began to collect these government-owned supplies. In colonial America, most men served in the local militia. Local towns had powder magazines to store the powder that would be used for training the militia or if the militia was called to defend a portion of the colony. Many of these powder magazines also stored a portion of gunpowder that belonged to the colonial government—the King’s powder.
One such large powder magazine that stored a large quantity of British gunpowder was in nearby Charlestown, now known as Somerville. This powder magazine was the largest in the colony. William Brattle, the commander of the Middlesex County militia and a Royal appointee, notified Gage that he believed the local militia were making plans to steal the Royal gunpowder. Gage moved quickly; he ordered the Middlesex County sheriff to secure the keys. Then early on the morning of September 1, nearly 300 British Regulars made their way to the powder house and removed all of the gunpowder that rightfully belonged to the governor and his agents. By that afternoon, the British troops, powder, and two cannon were in Boston at Castle William (a fort on an island in Boston Harbor).
Word spread quickly that the British came and stole the powder and, in the process, had shot and killed colonials. Now Boston was on fire, and the British navy was bombarding the city. All of this of course was not true, but the word spread like wildfire just the same. Misinformation abounded, and now thousands of locals and militia were gathering in Cambridge looking for revenge. Many loyal to the colonial government were forced to flee to Boston for protection. As time went on, it was evident that the rumors of a battle and Boston burning were untrue. The incident, however, showed how quickly the countryside could mobilize against the governor. Word was quickly sent to Philadelphia where the delegates to the First Continental Congress was aghast at the news. They debated on what to do, and the Massachusetts delegation specifically were on edge for more information. Word eventually arrived that the situation that was first reported was not accurate and no fighting had broken out. John Adams wrote;
Carpenters Hall, Philadelphia where the First Continental Congress convened on September 5, 1774.
“When the horrid news was brought here of the bombardment of Boston, which made us completely miserable for two days, we saw proofs of both the sympathy and the resolution of the continent. War! war! war! was the cry, and it was pronounced in a tone which would have done honor to the oratory of a Briton or a Roman. If it had proved true, you would have heard the thunder of an American Congress.”
Gage, somewhat shaken by the event, began to concentrate his military strength in the city of Boston and fortified the city against a possible attack. He sent word to England that he needed more men to enforce the Coercive Acts. The “Powder Alarm” proved that, within a day, thousands of armed colonials could assemble. The message he sent London shocked the King: “If you think ten thousand men sufficient, send twenty; if one million is thought enough, give two.” Soon after on September 9th, Whig (Patriot) leaders such as Dr. Joseph Warren and others passed the Suffolk Resolves. These strongly worded resolves called for a boycott of British goods and heavily impacted policies adopted by the First Continental Congress. Parliament badly miscalculated the colonial reaction to the Coercive Acts and the pendulum was beginning to swing to independence. The Powder Alarm quickly taught General Gage that the resistance to Royal authority was not just a small group of rebels, but a growing majority of the population.
You can still today visit the the famous Powder House today. It stands in Nathan Tufts Park at 850 Broadway, Somerville, Massachusetts (GPS: N 42.400675, W 71.116998). There is plenty of street parking available. Take the trails in the park to the Powder House located in the center of the park.
Join us on our Facebook page at 7 pm on Sunday, September 1 for a discussion with historian and author Scott C. Patchan about George Washington’s role in the French and Indian War. Patchan will be discussing his latest book, George Washington in the French & Indian War, published earlier this year by the History Press.
George Washington has frequently been criticized for his first military campaign, which sparked the French and Indian War. This backwoods campaign between British and French colonials eventually grew into the Seven Years’ War, a global conflict between these European empires. In 1754 Washington was an ambitious yet inexperienced young officer, eager to carry out his orders and mission on behalf of Virginia and the British king. While his campaign failed to meet its objectives, Washington experienced his first taste of military command, dealing with situations that ultimately proved beyond his control, and learned lessons that made him into the man who led the Continental Army to victory in the Revolutionary War. Historian Scott Patchan delves deep into Washington’s correspondence to tell the story of his training as an officer.
Scott’s interest in history began at a young age when his parents took him to Fort Necessity National Battlefield in Fayette County, Pennsylvania. This visit initiated a lifelong love of history that has resulted in Scott’s writing of six books, most prominently Shenandoah Summer, Second Manassas: The Struggle for Chinn Ridge and The Last Battle of Winchester, as well as dozens of articles. He is a sought-after speaker and popular guide for tours on colonial American history, the Revolutionary War and the Civil War for the last twenty-five years across the eastern United States.
I chose the long way to Revolutionary War history. Part of it can be blamed on the co-founders and early bloggers on ERW. They convinced me, a Civil War historian, to come to the “dark side,” and study the more pivotal, more complex, and more important era in American history. And thus I joined this merry band and “threw in” to start learning more about our turbulent founding. I can’t say that I am a master of this domain yet, but I’ve come a long in several years.
Today, however, as I walked through one of our country’s national cemeteries, one that does not have any dead from our War for Independence, I began thinking about the American consciousness and the path toward someone’s interest in our military history. I began by reflecting on my own experience and why I was drawn to study the Civil War. Certainly, visiting Civil War battlefields as a young child with a toy musket and kepi sold me easily enough to want me to pursue this field of study as a future career. But maybe it was also the impact of visual media. I could see my childhood heroes in pictures taken at the time, the wreckage of the battlefield, and the plight of dead and dying soldiers on those fields and at field hospitals.
So maybe the Revolutionary period does not garner the attention that study of later wars does as it lacks photographs, and for later conflicts, film, film with sound, and live frontline reporting on tv and the internet. But time may also factor into the perception of interest levels. Iraq, Afghanistan, Desert Storm, and Vietnam veterans are still with us, and although their numbers are marching into history, the Korean War and World War II generations. Their presence in our society makes the conflicts in which they served seem not so long ago, rather, more like recent history. As a public historian, however, when I have discussions regarding World War I and the Civil War it’s viscerally noticeable that modern society has a harder time making tangible connections to these moments in American history. It simply seems much further into the past, a long, long time ago to them. Maybe because there are no longer any living veterans from these wars. Bringing the Revolutionary War into the discussion only makes it seem even more remote from present day. The general public’s perception of time when thinking of this era might as well be the Dark Ages, but it is not even 250 years old yet. We are still a country in its infancy by world comparison. Thus, it’s a harder “sell” to the masses to become involved or interested in the Revolutionary War era outside of a cast of a few prominent characters, George Washington among the very top of that list.
Since April 2023, however, I have been on a crusade to change that thinking as I work with the public. The Revolutionary War was not that far away, and although we only have paintings and sketches from the war rather than photographs and live action film, it is enough to spark an interest and deeper appreciation and understanding. Perhaps, though, it is the tangible reminders of the war that can once and for all disprove the notion that this period is too far removed into the past to be relevant, worth note, or even remembrance.
Nearly eighteen months ago I stood on the battlefield of Camden, fought August 16, 1780. I watched as horsedrawn caissons returned the remains of twelve Continental soldiers of the Maryland and Delaware regiments, one British Loyalist of a North Carolina regiment, and one Scottish Highlander, 71st regiment back to the battlefield. The remains had been discovered earlier in 2022. After a moving ceremony, among a massive crowd gathered to pay their respects, I was able to walk among the flag draped coffins, made of wood from the battlefield itself. I was standing mere inches from soldiers that had given their lives on that field 243 years earlier. The vail of time instantly dropped at that stark realization. The Revolutionary War was not far into the past, hemmed in among long lost American decades. Rather it was right in front of me, in the present, in the now. You could further walk the battlefield that April weekend. Four white flag markers denoted the four corners of where each set of remains were found on the battlefield. You could literally see the battle unfold before you, and now lay witness to where these men had died and fell all those years before.
I have had many powerful experiences at historic sites of the years. Standing or walking in the footsteps of historical giants, visiting gravesites, being present on anniversaries of important moments. But no experience was as powerful as this day. And so, on this day, I reflect on the battle of Camden, South Carolina. I reflect on that April day. And I reflect on the unfinished work that lay ahead during the 250th anniversary commemorations of the Revolutionary War as public historians. We must rededicate ourselves “to the great task remaining before us” to bring these pivotal, complex, and important moments of this era back into the American consciousness and to ensure it remains ever present for the next 250 years.
On February 27, 1776 Patriot and Loyalist forces faced off at Moores Creek Bridge in southeastern North Carolina. Loyalist forces anticipated support from a British army arriving along the North Carolina coast and planned to use this combination force to return British authority in North Carolina. Though, when help did not arrive, a mixed bag of North Carolina Patriots turned back an attack at Moores Creek Bridge. Their victory, combined with the Patriot victory at Great Bridge, VA in December 1775, solidified their control of North Carolina. Additionally, the Loyalist defeat served as a major deterrent for Loyalist support until the opening of the Southern Campaign four years later. This small action had long lasting impact on the entire war in the south.
Join us this Sunday night at 7pm on our You Tube Channel ( https://www.youtube.com/@emergingrevolutionarywar8217 ) as we welcome back our own ERW historian Bert Dunkerly. Bert has extensive knowledge on the history of this battle and experience working at the battlefield itself. We will discuss the complex situation leading up to the battle and how this small battle changed the war strategy in the south. Grab a drink and join in on the discussion!
Emerging Revolutionary War Era 