Abigail Adams was only 32 years old when she encouraged her h (NY Public Library)
“Remember the ladies.” Of all the words Abigail Adams wrote to her husband John over a correspondence than spanned 1,160 letters and nearly 40 years, those three stand as the most famous. They come from a letter written on March 31, 1776—250 years ago today.
At the time, events in the colonies were moving at a quickening pace. Common Sense in January 1776 had not only leveraged a major public shift toward American independence, it also sparked debate about what might come after. Sentiment in the Continental Congress lagged public opinion, despite John’s best efforts to spur that sentiment along, but conversation still bubbled among the delegates about that possible future.
It was in this context that Abigail, as astute a politician as any Congressional delegate, wrote to her husband. If independence loomed, and America had the chance to jump-start a new system of its own, then why not take advantage of the winds of change and establish independence not only from Great Britian but from the old social order altogether.
[I]n the new Code of Laws which I suppose it will be necessary for you to make I desire you would Remember the Ladies, and be more generous and favourable to them than your ancestors. Do not put such unlimited power into the hands of the Husbands. Remember all Men would be tyrants if they could. If perticuliar care and attention is not paid to the Laidies we are determined to foment a Rebelion, and will not hold ourselves bound by any Laws in which we have no voice, or Representation.
That your Sex are Naturally Tyrannical is a Truth so thoroughly established as to admit of no dispute, but such of you as wish to be happy willingly give up the harsh title of Master for the more tender and endearing one of Friend. Why then, not put it out of the power of the vicious and the Lawless to use us with cruelty and indignity with impunity. Men of Sense in all Ages abhor those customs which treat us only as the vassals of your Sex. Regard us then as Beings placed by providence under your protection and in immitation of the Supreem Being, make use of that power only for our happiness.[1]
A time travel work of non-fiction to a foreign country are words usually not associated with a history of “the American Founding.” Yet that is exactly the intent of historian and author Joseph Ellis as he begins his exploration of this most important era of American history. Unlike those science-fiction journeys, this “trip will be different. Our tour will focus on the downside of the American founding.” (Pg. ix).
That downside is quickly explained by Ellis in his book The Great Contradiction: The Tragic Side of the American Founding. The past winner of a National Book Award for his work on the character of Thomas Jefferson, Ellis plans to “focus on two unquestionably horrific tragedies the founders oversaw: the failure to end slavery, and the failure to avoid Indian removal.” (Pg. ix).
Let’s review how this seasoned historian fulfilled his tour outline. “Most of the achievements were unprecedented…” as the triumphant British colonies made “the United States the political model of the liberal state.” That is the truth, “but it is not the whole truth…” as Ellis explains, “there are two legacies of the founding era…and both qualify as enormous tragedies.” Combined, “these triumphal and tragic elements constitute the ingredients for an epic historical narrative.” Ellis’s tour will include this “coexistence of grandeur and failure, brilliance and blindness, grace and sin” in his attempt to counteract how the narrative has so long been written by historians, which is of the “either/or” persuasion (Pgs. 17-18).
Since his aim is to provide context for how the world of the founding generation is vastly different than the one that has congealed over time, Ellis quickly reorients the lodestar of that time. “As far as the American founding is concerned, it is a lie—or, if you prefer less disturbing language, a massive delusion. None of the prominent founders believed they were creating a democracy” (Pg. 17).
“The political lodestar for the revolutionary generation was not ‘the people’ but, rather, ‘the public,’ or public things” rather “the public interest was the long-term interest of the people…” (Pg. 17).
As he further develops his approach, Ellis provides parameters: “if the original sin of American history is slavery, and racism its toxic residue, the original sin for American historians is ‘presentism.” In other terms, utilizing 21st-century “political and moral values” as the criteria to assess those in the Revolutionary era (Pg. 18).
Although there are two tragedies, the role of slavery and the failure to provide a roadmap to extinction have more dedicated pages in this book than the plight of the Native Americans, and Ellis admits that early on. Discussing the saga of the potential to end slavery, the debates, factors, and ultimate outcome are propped up by astute analysis by Ellis, and uncovering primary sources to let the founders speak as often as possible. The failure to end the institution of slavery must be judged the greatest failure of the revolutionary generation.” The passing of Benjamin Franklin, the “Virginia Staddle”, and other near chances provide a fascinating, yet tragic, “what if” scenario that Ellis unpacks with brilliant prose. (Pg. 129).
The same can be said about the early republic and the relations with Native Americans, as “there is an almost irresistible urge to wonder if the story could have turned out differently.” The failure, though, once again, is frustrating. Part of that reason was the weakness of the Federal government and the inability to “impose its will on the state of Georgia and the white population” when facing the boundary of the Creek country. Although exceptional leadership by George Washington as president and Henry Knox as secretary of war, did formulate a treaty with the Creeks, due to the lack of strength and minuscule numbers in the United States Army, “at virtually every level—logistical, economic, political—there was not the remotest chance of implementing” the treaty. As the Federal government grew and the white population expanded, this scenario would transform somewhat—the Federal government gaining strength—but the conclusion for the Native Americans, sadly, was always the same. Loss of standing and loss of land and loss of ability to dictate terms or maintain their way of life (Pgs. 166-167).
Ellis addresses the questions that lie at America’s twisted roots and, with candor and deftness, successfully rises above the presentism that he highlighted as a curse for historians and history enthusiasts, especially of the current culture wars. This narrative is a must-read to understand these pivotal questions and ultimate failures of the early American republic, which even the “sharpest minds of the revolutionary generation” could not solve.
Book Information: Alfred A. Knopf, New York, 2025, 226 pages, including images, bibliography, and index $31.00
Was the Battle of Germantown an American failure or a British success? Did the Continental Army lose due to an overly complicated plan, environmental factors such as fog, and poorly applied military judgment, or was the British Army’s resistance a decisive factor? The defense of the Chew House demonstrates that the British were professional, tenacious, and courageous, rather than the fortunate recipients of the fruits of an American blunder. Led by Lieutenant Colonel Thomas Musgrave, the men of the 40th Regiment of Foot established a strongpoint that disrupted American momentum and derailed the attack. Musgrave and the 40th Regiment of Foot transformed the Chew House into an obstacle that delayed the American advance long enough for British forces to reform and counterattack. This episode reveals the significance of British leadership and discipline under severe conditions, thereby reframing the context of the Battle of Germantown.¹
Germantown occurred at a time when the Continental Army was undergoing a transformation from an amateur to a professional military. American officers engaged in self-directed study of “books upon martial science” and were known to carry such texts among their baggage and haversacks when on campaign.² In this manner, Continental officers sought to emulate their European counterparts.³ One officer known to have made a detailed study of the art and science of war was Washington’s Chief of Artillery, Henry Knox.⁴ At the time of Germantown, the officers of the Continental Army had been at war for over two years and had learned many practical lessons; however, many officers, including Washington, continued to hold Knox’s auto-didactic military education in high esteem. The gap between knowing theory and its practical application would become apparent, to the detriment of the Continentals, at Germantown.
In contrast, the British Army officer corps had been fully engaged in a minor military enlightenment through the latter half of the eighteenth century. While British officers engaged in self-study programs similar to Knox’s, they could more readily share the results of their study within an established army, comparing and contrasting ideas and adopting best practices.⁵ The British Army was able to synthesize the best practices from both theory and combat experience into regulations that informed the training and operational deployment of all its formations.⁶
Early interpretations of the battle frequently emphasized confusion and poor execution, particularly the American decision to attack the Chew House. Yet the battle was “very much more than a contest… for the possession of a country house.” More recent scholarship describes the plan for the attack on Germantown as a sophisticated maneuvering scheme that nearly succeeded. Its subsequent failure owes more to British action than American incompetence.
On this date in 1776, Major Joseph Ward, serving as a staff officer for Major General Artemas Ward, second in command of the Continental Army that had just evicted the British from Boston, sat down at his desk to pen the following letter. The recipient was John Adams, a fellow Massachusettsan then serving in the Second Continental Congress in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Ward continued his correspondence of keeping Adams apprised of military affairs around Boston. In this letter, however, he makes the case for the colonies to “cut the Gordian knot” and declare independence, months before Richard Henry Lee’s proposal to call for independence in late June 1776.
Boston 23 March 1776
Sir,
The 17th Instant the Pirates all abandoned their Works in Boston and Charlestown and went on board their Ships, and on the 20th they burnt and destroyed the works on Castle Island. They now lye in Nantasket Road waiting for a fair wind; we keep a vigilant eye over them lest they should make an attack on some unexpected quarter. The particulars with regard to the Seige, the Stores taken, &c. you will receive from better authority, therefore it is unnecessary for me to mention them. Our Troops behaved well, and I think the flight of the British Fleet and Army before the American Arms, must have a happy and very important effect upon the great Cause we engaged in, and greatly facilitate our future operations. I wish it may stimulate the Congress to form an American Government immediately. If, after all our exertions and successes, while Providence offers us Freedom and Independence, we should receive the gloven cloven foot of George to rule here again what will posterity, what will the wise and virtuous through the World say of us? Will they not say, (and jusly) that we were fools who had an inestimable prize put into our hands but had no heart to improve it! Heaven seems now to offer us the glorious privilege, the bright preeminence above all other people, of being the Guardians of the Rights of Mankind and the Patrons of the World. It is the fault of the United Colonies (a rare fault among men) they do not sufficiently know and feel their own strength and importance. Independence would have a great effect upon the Army, some now begin to fear that after all their fatigue and hazards in the Cause of Freedom, a compromise will take place whereby Britain may still exercise a power injurious to the Liberty Peace and Safety of America: Cut the Gordian knot, and the timid and wavering will have new feelings, trimming will be at an end, and the determined faithful friends of their Country will kindle with new ardour, and the United Colonies increase in strength and glory every hour.
Yesterday I saw your Brother, who informed that Mrs. Adams and your Children were well.
General Ward, on account of his declining health, has wrote his Resignation to the President of the Congress. I expect the greatest part of the Army will march for New York, or the Southern Colonies as soon as the Fleet is gone to Sea; and the Troops that remain here will be employed in fortifying the most advantageous Posts to defend the Town and harbour. I do not much expect the Enemy will make any attempts to regain possession of Boston, for I think they are sufficiently convinced that they cannot penetrate the Country in this part of America; ’tis probable they will try their fortune to the Southward and if they fail there the game will be up with them. We hear many accounts about Commissioners coming from Britain to treat with the Colonies separately, or with the Congress. Many fear we shall be duped by them, but I trust the congress is too wise to be awed by the splendor or deceived by the cunning of British Courtiers.
I know not of one discouraging circumstance attending either our civil or military affairs in this part of the Continent. I have lately heard with pleasure that the Farmer is become an advocate for Independence.Wishing the Congress that Wisdom which is from above, I am Sir with much Respect Your most Humble Servant,Joseph Ward
In David Price’s work, Winning the Ten Crucial Days: The Keys to Victory in George Washington’s Legendary Winter Campaign, the author analyzes one of the most pivotal moments during the Revolutionary War through a unique lens. Focusing on leadership, geography, weather, artillery, and contingency, Price’s narrative eschews the traditional format that has been trod before on this topic, usually a chronological regurgitation of events during this time period. Examine these crucial days during the winter campaign of 1776-1777 with author David Price in this ERW Revelry book talk. This talk will be pre-recorded and posted to our Facebook page at 7pm, March 22, 2026 and also to our Spotify and You Tube Channels.
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Dr. Nathan Provost
With the recent rumblings about Venezuela, it is important to remember that Venezuela’s independence began with a veteran of the American Revolutionary War. Francisco de Miranda was born on March 28, 1750, in Caracas, Venezuela. At the time, Venezuela and much of the Americas were under Spanish control. Born into a life of luxury, Miranda attended prestigious institutions of higher education, including the Royal and Pontifical University of Caracas. He later continued his education in Spain, eventually raising enough money to purchase his rank of Captain in the Princess Regiment. His first experience of combat was in North Africa against the Moors of North Africa. Upon returning to Spain, Miranda waited for another military operation to accompany. An ambitious young soldier, he sought adventure, wanting to see the world through military service. In 1780, Miranda reported to the Regiment of Aragorn; their destination was Havana, Cuba. Their objective was to concentrate with Major General Bernardo de Galvez’s men at Pensacola, Florida.
Francisco de Miranda
Spain was no ally of the recently independent United States; rather, their alliance with France was much more significant. After France entered the conflict following the American victory at Saratoga, Spain declared war on Great Britain in 1779. Spain had its own goals, hoping to reclaim territory in Florida lost during the Seven Years’ War. The Spanish were fortunate to possess a brilliant military officer, Bernardo de Galvez. He already captured what is now Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and Mobile, Alabama. All that was left was Pensacola on the Florida Coast. Galvez took several warships and many more transports filled with 3,701 men to lay siege to Pensacola, Florida. Inclement weather and Choctaw resistance interrupted their initial movements, but Galvez pressed on and established his army outside the walls. The number of troops was insufficient to make any headway against the British fortifications, despite the construction of a series of entrenchments and artillery positions. Then, on March 24, much-needed Spanish reinforcements arrived, among whom was Francisco Miranda.
Upon landing, Miranda noted Galvez was there to meet them. Miranda observed several entrenchments already constructed, but a few hundred men were already out of commission since the siege began. Upon learning this information, he knew that Galvez desperately needed these reinforcements. It was not until April 24 that all the soldiers disembarked at Pensacola. During the siege, Miranda personally inspected the siege lines and terrain and reported back on this reconnaissance to Galvez. Miranda and his men, entrenched outside the fort, often came under fire from the British artillery. There were also several skirmishes outside the breastworks in which the Spanish sustained some casualties. In one particular episode, Miranda and five companies of his men engaged in a firefight with some Native Americans. The fighting lasted roughly an hour and a half, with six of the Spanish wounded, but a Frenchman deserted the Natives and went over to the Spanish after the fight. In each of these skirmishes.
Clockwise from top left: Chris Mackowski, Christopher Dalton, Steven Pitt, and Philip Payne
To help celebrate America’s 250th birthday this year, St. Bonaventure University’s History Department will present a series of public programs through March and April—and Emerging Revolutionary War is taking part. From John Adams and Revolutionary-era Boston to George Washington’s long shadow, presenters will invite audiences to reconsider how we remember the Revolution today. And all programs will be available to watch live on Zoom and later on YouTube.
“July Fourth this year will mark 250 years since the Declaration of Independence was finalized,” says Dr. Phillip Payne, chair of the history department. “We wanted to invite members of the community to join us in commemorating that event. It’s a question we can all think about: what does the American Founding mean to us today?”
The programs, which are free and open to the public, will each begin at 7:00 p.m. Light refreshments will be served. The programs will also be available to watch via Zoom; for Zoom links, visit the history department’s blog, https://bonashistorydept.blogspot.com/.
Since the besieged British soldiers in Boston under General William Howe’s command awoke on the morning of March 5, 1776, and saw American cannon overlooking the city from Dorchester Heights, Howe prepared to evacuate Boston. Orders to prepare the embarkation of the troops and military stores and depart Boston went out to his command of 9,000 soldiers on March 7. It took days to organize the large-scale movement, and the British Navy did not have enough space on their ships to carry everything the army had. Decisions had to be made, supplies had to be destroyed or left behind. The military had to make room for loyalists wanting to depart the city as well.
After unfavorable winds delayed the original departure date of March 13, British troops formed into marching columns at 4 a.m. on March 17. Four hours later, General Howe’s army rocked aboard boats in Boston Harbor, abandoning their hold on the American seaport city. General George Washington’s Continental Army did not interfere with the British evacuation, honoring an agreement trading a pause in military action for a promise that British troops would not harm the city as they departed.
While morale sagged on the British boats, Patriots in Boston were jubilant that their city was free from British army. Boston selectman Timothy Newell recorded in his journal the momentous day of Boston’s freedom from British occupation:
This morning at 3 o’clock, the troops began to move–guards, chevaux de freze, crow feet strewed in the streets to prevent being pursued. They all embarked at about 9 oclock and the whole fleet came to sail. Every vessel which they did not carry off, they rendered unfit for use. Not even a boat left to cross the river.
Thus was this unhappy distressed town (through a manifest interposition of divine providence) relieved from a set of men whose unparralleled wickedness, profanity, debauchery and cruelty is inexpressible, enduring a siege from the 19th April 1775 to the 17th March 1776. Immediately upon the fleet’s sailing the Select Men set off through the lines to Roxbury to acquaint General Washington of the evacuation of the town. After sending a message Major Ward, aid to General Ward, came to us at the lines and soon after the General himself, who received us in the most polite and affectionate manner, and permitted us to pass to Watertown to acquaint the Council of this happy event. The General immediately ordered a detachment of 2000 troops to take possession of the town under the command of General Putnam who the next day began their works in fortifying Forthill, etc., for the better security of the town. A number of loaded shells with trains of powder covered with straw were found in houses left by the Regulars near the fortifycation.
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Drew Palmer. He is the founder of Revolutionary Maryland; click here to learn more about that blog.
(Vallejo Image Galleries)
In the early evening of March 5, 1776, two armed boats left Annapolis to patrol the Chesapeake Bay. Captain John Pitt and Joseph Middleton were patrolling to prevent any British ships nearby from entering Maryland’s waters. As they patrolled, they discovered an alarming sight: three British warships heading directly towards Annapolis. Middleton and Pitt rushed off to the Maryland Council of Safety’s chambers in Annapolis to report the startling news.1 In the coming days, Maryland was tested for the first time in the growing Revolutionary conflict.
The American rebellion had become a full-scale war by the spring of 1776. In early March, the siege of British-held Boston was about to end. Hundreds of miles south in Philadelphia, the Declaration of Independence was only four months away. In Maryland, politicians worked hard to maintain Maryland’s isolation from the worst of the conflict. In Virginia, a raiding war had already begun. Only two months before, the town of Norfolk, Virginia, was bombarded, leading to the destruction of the town. Along with Norfolk’s destruction, British attacks and raids were carried out throughout the lower Chesapeake Bay, along with a blockade. 2
Participating in British operations in the lower Chesapeake was Captain Mathew Squire of the British Royal Navy. For several months, Squire’s vessel, the Otter, served as the headquarters of the exiled Virginia Governor, Lord Dunmore. From the Otter, British attacks and raids were launched on Patriot strongholds in the lower Chesapeake. By March, Squire had gained a reputation as a competent officer and ruthless raider of American shipping.3 Squire was heavily involved in the bombardment of Norfolk and an attempted attack on Hampton, Virginia. Though Squire’s area of operation had been centered on the lower Chesapeake, new intelligence pulled him northward into Maryland.
Today, a stone cairn marks the spot atop Penn’s Hill where Abigail watched events unfold in Boston. (Chris Mackowski)
On Saturday, March 2, 1776, Abigail Adams began a letter to husband, John, then serving in the Second Continental Congress in Philadelphia. It took her more than a week to finish it. “You see in what purtubation it has been written and how many times I have left of,” she said by way of apology at the end.
The source of her “purturbation”? The long-running siege of Boston had taken a surprising—and ultimately decisive—turn.
Henry Knox’s “Noble Train” of artillery, salvaged from Fort Ticonderoga and dragged across the winter landscape, offered a sudden game-changer. Initial artillery emplacements opened fire on the night of March 2, but the decisive blow came on March 4 when American forces took possession of Dorchester Heights on the south side of Boston and adorned the hilltop with cannon.
The Adams farm in nearby Quincy sat at the base of another prominence known as Penn’s Hill. From that vantage point, Abigail had watched the battle of Bunker’s Hill the previous June. She returned to that perch to watch the March cannonading.
Emerging Revolutionary War Era 