Captain James Wallace, R.N., Faces Rebellion in 1775

RI Governor Joseph Wanton (Wikimedia Commons)

James Wallace of the Royal Navy commanded the twenty-gun Rose and arrived in Narragansett Bay on November 5, 1774.  Over the next six months, it served as a base to maintain his ship and operate in the waters off Connecticut and Rhode Island to enforce the Coercive Acts passed earlier that year and prevent the colonies from importing guns, gunpowder, or other armaments.  The Rhode Island Assembly took advantage of Wallace’s brief absence in December to remove most of the armaments from Fort George, which protected Newport, and take them to Providence, ostensibly to defend the colony from Canadians and Native Americans.  Of course, they were also farther from British reach.  The governor was explicit with Captain Wallace about the motivation: “they had done it to prevent their falling into the hands of the King, or any of his servants; and that they meant to make use of them, to defend themselves against any power that shall offer to molest them.”[i]  Wallace sensed rebellion in the air and promptly asked the governor, Joseph Wanton, whether he [Wallace] might expect assistance in carrying out the king’s policies in Rhode Island.  The answer was a swift “no.”  

Nevertheless, Wallace remained ashore, as officers and seamen did when a ship was in port.  As if to confirm local sensibilities, Wallace heard that a mob threatened to seize, tar, and feather him while he dined ashore.  He quickly ordered his pinnace and cutter—boats from the Rose—to be manned and summoned men to his temporary quarters.  He waited six hours, but no mob appeared.  Not wanting to over-react to rumors, he again wrote the governor to ask about the rumored mob and determine whether Wanton would use his powers in Wallace’s defense.  Wanton declined to respond in writing, but assured Wallace’s messenger that “they,” meaning the men assembled on the streets, did not intend to insult Wallace. Instead, Wanton himself feared local rebels might assault him and the town.  He gave the messenger, and by extension Wallace, the impression that Newport was not safe for the King’s subjects, including the ships, officers, and crew of the Royal Navy.[ii] It was unwelcome news for the naval officer, as Vice Admiral Samuel Graves, commanding the North American Station, expected Wallace and Rose to winter over in the bay.  

Continue reading “Captain James Wallace, R.N., Faces Rebellion in 1775”

“I wish we could have something of this kind to do every day,” The Battle of Chelsea Creek, May 27-28, 1775

Following the initial skirmishes at Lexington and Concord on April 19, 1775, colonial militias from throughout New England converged around Boston, with the area of Cambridge and Roxbury serving as the epicenters of the camps. These New England militia effectively layed siege to the city where British General Thomas Gage concentrated after April 19th. The British, cut off from the countryside, relied heavily on supplies brought in by sea. At the same time, American forces were eager to secure resources and deny the British any additional supplies from nearby coastal areas.

The location of the HMS Diana is marked with “16” on the map

One such resource-rich area was Noddle’s Island and Hog Island both located in Boston Harbor. These islands contained valuable livestock and hay, which the British had been attempting to secure to feed their troops and horses. American intelligence reported that the British were planning to remove these resources, prompting a proactive operation by the colonial forces to beat them to it.

In early May, Dr. Joseph Warren led a group inspecting the islands and recognized their imporance. As part of the Massachusetts Committee of Safety, Warren led the effort for a reslolution to be passed to either capture or destroy the supplies on the islands. On May 14th, the Committee stated “Resolved, as their opinion, that all the live stock be taken from Noddle’s Island and Hog Island, and from that part of Chelsea near the sea coast, and be driven back; and that the execution of this business be committed to the selectmen of the towns of Medford, Malden, Chelsea, and Lynn, and that they be supplied with such a number of men, as they shall need, from the regiments now at Medford.” Soon the commander of the New England army around Boston, General Artemas Ward, put a plan in motion to quickly strike both islands.

The American expedition was led by Colonel John Stark and Colonel Israel Putnam, both future generals in the Continental Army. The colonial forces, primarily composed of New Hampshire and Massachusetts militias, planned a nighttime amphibious raid to remove the livestock and destroy hay supplies that might benefit the British. On the night of May 27, colonial forces quietly moved onto Hog Island and began driving off livestock and burning haystacks. British forces, stationed in Boston and alerted to the colonial activity, responded by dispatching marines and the British schooner HMS Diana, a lightly armed but maneuverable vessel well-suited for operations in the shallow waters of the harbor.

As the colonists worked to transport livestock to the mainland, they encountered resistance from British marines who had landed on Noddle’s Island and began advancing toward their position. A sharp skirmish ensued, during which the American militia used the terrain to their advantage, fighting from behind trees, stone walls, and other natural cover. The colonial forces managed to repel the British marines, inflicting casualties and forcing a retreat.

Lieutenant Thomas Graves (nephew of Vice Admiral Samuel Graves) commander of the HMS Diana. Shown in his rear admiral uniform in ca. 1801. Often confused with Lord Thomas Graves, British commander during the Battle of the Capes

The turning point of the engagement came with the involvement of the HMS Diana. The schooner attempted to support the marines by moving up the narrow Chelsea Creek to engage the colonial militia and cut off their withdrawal. However, as the tide receded and the ship ventured too far inland, it became grounded in the shallow, muddy waters.

Seeing an opportunity, the colonists brought up field artillery from shore and opened fire on the stranded vessel. Over the course of the battle, they subjected the Diana to intense musket and cannon fire. Unable to refloat the ship due to the falling tide and increasing colonial pressure, the British crew was forced to abandon it. American forces quickly boarded the vessel, stripped it of usable supplies, weaponry and its 76 foot mast, and then set it ablaze, destroying the schooner completely.

The Battle of Chelsea Creek resulted in a clear American victory, both strategically and psychologically. The destruction of the HMS Diana marked the first loss of a Royal Navy vessel in the Revolutionary War, dealing a symbolic blow to British morale. For the colonists, it was a tangible demonstration of their ability to challenge British authority not only on land but at sea.

Major General Israel Putnam said after the fight
on Chelsea Creek “I wish we could have
something of this kind to do every day,”

Tactically, the victory helped to solidify American control of the Boston-area islands and limited the British army’s ability to forage for supplies. This contributed to the worsening conditions inside besieged Boston and increased pressure on General Gage. The morale boost for the colonial militias was significant; it reinforced the notion that British troops and naval forces were not invincible and that well-coordinated militia operations could succeed.

In addition, the battle was notable for showcasing early instances of American military ingenuity and leadership. Figures like Israel Putnam and John Stark went on to distinguish themselves in later battles, and the ability of the militia to effectively coordinate a land-sea operation foreshadowed the more sophisticated tactics that would develop over the course of the war. A few months later on August 1st, the mast of the HMS Diana was raised on Prospect Hill as a liberty pole. A symbol that was seen by not just the Americans around Cambridge but also the British in Boston. This location was also where legend states that George Washington ordered the first American flag, the Grand Union, to be raised on January 1, 1776.

While over shadowed by Lexington, Concord, or Bunker Hill, the Battle of Chelsea Creek played a crucial role in the early war. It helped secure the outer perimeter of the Siege of Boston, denied the British critical supplies, and emboldened the colonial cause at a time when confidence was still fragile. The success of the operation, including the destruction of the Diana, offered a dramatic image of colonial resistance and ingenuity that resonated beyond New England.

Today, the location of Noddle’s and Hog Island are gone. Nineteenth century and modern infill has completely reshaped the area from mudflats and tidal marshes to buildable land. Modern day East Boston, Winthrop and Logan Airport cover the area. The community of Somerville contines to commemorate the raising of the Grand Union flag on January 1 Diana‘s mast with a flag raising ceremony. Though mostly forgotten, the fighting along Chelsea Creek continued to embolden men like Joseph Warren and Israel Putnam and encourage their agressiveness a few weeks later on the Charlestown peninsula.

Freedom is a Light for Which Many Men Have Died in Darkness

Remember this Memorial Day the approximately 25,000 Patriots who died to secure the independence and liberty of the United States between 1775 – 1783. They died all across the continent in battle, in prisons, and in hospitals. In Philadelphia stands a monument to the Tomb of the Unknown Revolutionary War Soldier. The memorial stands in Washington Square, just a few blocks from Independence Hall. Washington Square was an 18th-century burying ground for the destitute, a Potter’s Field. During the Revolutionary War, it was used as a burying ground for both American and British soldiers who died of disease or were killed in nearby battles.

Not as famous as the Tomb of the Unknowns in Arlington Cemetery, this one was completed in 1957. The year before, archaeologists found the remains of a soldier who had a musket ball wound in his skull. They took these remains and placed them in a sarcophagus with the words: “Beneath this stone rests a soldier of Washington’s army who died to give you liberty.” He lies as a representative of the thousands of men who gave their lives during the brutal war. In front of the tomb, an eternal flame flickers in remembrance of the dead. A statue of the soldier’s commander George Washington looks over him. Behind Washington are the words: “Freedom is a light for which many men have died in darkness.” On one side is a quote from Washington’s Farewell Address: “The independence and liberty you possess are the work of joint councils and joint efforts of common dangers, suffering and success.” On the other, an explanation of the significance of the site: “In unmarked graves within this square lie thousands of unknown soldiers of Washington’s Army who died of wounds and sickness during the Revolutionary War.”

In the plaza of the square are multiple Revolutionary War era flags. The site is somber and inspiring. It was a place of somber reflection even while the war was being fought. On April 13, 1777, John Adams walked through the burying ground and wrote to his wife Abigail what he saw:

“I have spent an Hour, this Morning, in the Congregation of the dead. I took a Walk into the Potters Field, a burying Ground between the new stone Prison, and the Hospital, and I never in my whole Life was affected with so much Melancholly. The Graves of the soldiers, who have been buryed, in this Ground, from the Hospital and bettering House, during the Course of the last Summer, Fall, and Winter, dead of the small Pox, and Camp Diseases, are enough to make the Heart of stone to melt away. The Sexton told me, that upwards of two Thousand soldiers had been buried there, and by the Appearance, of the Graves, and Trenches, it is most probable to me, he speaks within Bounds.”

Two weeks later he wrote to the unborn millions who became the beneficiaries of these mens’ ultimate sacrifice: “Posterity! You will never know, how much it cost the present Generation, to preserve your Freedom! I hope you will make a good Use of it. If you do not, I shall repent in Heaven, that I ever took half the Pains to preserve it.”

Remember them this Memorial Day!

“Rev War Revelry” Bullet Strikes from the First Day of the American Revolution

Much has been written about the “shot heard around the world,” as the poet Ralph Waldo Emerson eloquently wrote in the 19th century. Yet, what about those actual shots? The musket balls fired on April 19, 1775? What was the damage, and how does this material culture history add to our overall understanding of the events that unfolded on that fateful day? Thanks to historian Joel Bohy, who is part of a duo of historians, along with Doug Scott, we now have insight into that answer.

Using forensic techniques, seemingly straight out of CSI, the authors have done painstaking research into the bullet holes and artifacts struck by bullets to shed even more light on the events that unfolded along Battle Road, Lexington, and Concord on the first day of the American Revolution.

Join Emerging Revolutionary War for this pre-recorded “Rev War Revelry” this Sunday evening at 7 p.m. EDT with author Joel Bohy as he explains the history and research behind this book. A much-needed addition to any Revolutionary War enthusiast’s bookshelf!

Major John Van Dyk and the Bones of Major John André. Part I

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes historian and educator Jeffrey Collin Wilford to the blog. A brief biog is at the bottom of this post. A list of sources will be at the bottom of the concluding Part III.

Major John André and John Van Dyk: Continental Artillery Soldier 

Much has been written about the betrayal of America by Benedict Arnold. However, one small but candidly morbid fact buried in the story has not. It relates to the disposition of British Major John André’s remains as they lay in a wooden ossuary on a British mail ship on the banks of the Hudson River while awaiting their return to England in 1821. The only recorded recollection of this event was in a letter written by a 67-year-old former Revolutionary War soldier and published in a Virginia newspaper in 1825. This man also happened to be one of the four officers who escorted André to the gallows in Tappan, New York, on October 2, 1780. 

John Van Dyk lived a storied life, serving America as a militiaman, Continental Artillery soldier, customs officer, New York City assessor, and assistant alderman. He came from an old Dutch family that had settled in the original New Amsterdam colony, which would eventually become Manhattan. There is ample evidence that, in 1775, he was actively involved in significant acts of disobedience against British rule with other “Liberty Boys,” as the New York Sons of Liberty preferred to call themselves. 

One of these acts was stealing muskets and cannons from the Royal Armory and Fort George.  Under the encouragement of Isaac Sears and Marinus Willett,  he was one of a crowd of colonists who broke into the Royal Arsenal at City Hall on April 23, 1775, stealing  550 muskets, bayonets, and related munitions. The angry mob had been spurred to act by the attacks on their fellow countrymen the week previous at Lexington and Concord in Massachusetts. Every person who took a musket was required to sign for it, signaling a promise to return it if it was needed to fight against British occupation. That call came on July 4, 1775, when the New York Provincial Congress ordered them recalled to outfit newly commissioned  Colonel Alexander McDougall’s 1st New York Regiment. It was relayed that anyone who refused would be deemed an enemy of the state. In all, 434 muskets were returned. 

Exactly four months later, Captain John Van Dyk was one of sixty or so men who, under Liberty Boys Colonel John Lasher and Colonel John Lamb, executed the orders of the New York Provincial Congress to remove the cannon from Fort George at the southern tip of Manhattan and drag them back to the area of City Hall. With tensions high in the city, the state leaders feared they would be turned against the colonists if they were left in the hands of the British. One of the militia members assisting in the removal effort was 19-year-old King’s College student Alexander Hamilton of the Hearts of Oak independent militia. By this time, civil unrest had relegated the British colonial government to operating from naval ships anchored in New York Harbor, which made keeping the cannon secure from a more agitated population nearly impossible. 

Just before midnight on August 23, 1775, a skirmish ensued between  Lasher and Lamb’s men removing the cannon, and a British barge near the shore. It had been sent to monitor the rebels’ activity by Captain George Vandeput from the HMS Asia, a 64-gun British warship anchored near shore. Musket shots rang out, presumably started by the British, which resulted in the killing of a King’s soldier on the barge. As a result, the Asia turned broadside and opened fire with their cannons in a barrage on the city that lasted for three hours. A city whose population had already been diminished by the fear of a coming conflict, shrunk even further due to the terror experienced that night.  

John Van Dyk spent most of the next eight years as an officer in General Henry Knox’s artillery while under the command of Colonel John Lamb.  During the war, he saw action at Brooklyn, Harlem Heights, White Plains, Trenton, Brandywine, Germantown, Crosswicks Creek, Monmouth, and Short Hills. He was also at both Morristown winter encampments and Valley Forge. In 1780 he was captured by the British off the coast of New Jersey and confined on the prison ship HMS Jersey in Brooklyn before being released that summer.  

Van Dyk had spent months out of commission in late 1779 and early 1780 with what, according to his symptoms, was probably malaria or yellow fever.  He petitioned General Knox, who, in turn, appealed to General Washington for leave to recuperate. Making his way to West Point to meet with General Washington he was instructed by the Commander-in-Chief’s aide-de-camp to be evaluated by Dr. John Cochran, physician and surgeon general of the army of the Middle Department. On Cochran’s recommendation, General Washington wrote to President Samuel Huntington asking that the Continental Congress grant Van Dyk’s petition for an 8-month Furlow to sea to convalesce, which was common at the time as it was believed the fresh sea air was helpful to healing. Approved, it would take six months before he boarded the brig General Reed with a crew of 120 and 16 guns, a privateer out of Philadelphia commanded by  Samuel Davidson. Once aboard ship he was temporarily made a Lieutenant of Marines. 

Only two days into the voyage, on April 21, 1780, things took an immediate turn for the worse when they were intercepted and captured by the 28-gun HMS Iris and the 16-gun sloop HMS Vulture. The Iris was the former American warship USS Hancock, captured in July of 1777 and renamed by the British. Van Dyk was brought to Brooklyn and placed on the prison ship Jersey in Wallabout Bay, one of the most notorious and deadly places for holding American prisoners of war. Conditions were so poor that, while approximately 6,800 American soldiers died in battle during the Revolution, over 11,000 prisoners died on the Jersey alone! Fortunately for John Van Dyk, American officers were often traded off the Jersey for British officers who were in the custody of American forces. Within two months he was released and traveled to his temporary home of Elizabethtown, New Jersey to finish recuperating before rejoining Lamb’s artillery in Tappan, New York. 

John Van Dyk had experienced many horrors of war in the years and months leading up to the morning of September 21, 1780, when British Major John André, an Adjutant General to British General Sir Henry Clinton, left New York City and sailed up the Hudson River. This pivotal incident would brand one of Washington’s closest generals a traitor and lead to the death of the esteemed and well-liked André. Ironically, Major André traveled on the very same sloop that had assisted in the capture of Captain Van Dyk just six months earlier. 

Bio:

Jeffrey Wilford has been an educator in Maine for over 30 years where he holds certifications in history and science. He received a bachelor’s degree in communications with an emphasis in journalism from California State University – Fullerton and a master’s degree in education, teaching and learning, from the University of Maine. In addition to his career teaching, he has worked as a general assignment newspaper reporter and an assistant to the press secretary of former Maine Governor and US Congressman Joseph Brennen. He lives in Maine with his wife Nicolette Rolde Wilford.

250 Years Ago Today? The Myth and Mystery of the Mecklenburg Declaration

In the early days of American independence, few tales are as intriguing—or as controversial—as the story of the Mecklenburg Declaration of Independence. Allegedly signed on May 20, 1775, over a year before the more famous Declaration in Philadelphia, this document claimed that citizens of Mecklenburg County, North Carolina, boldly severed ties with the British crown. It’s a story of early patriotism, defiance, and pride—but also one mired in historical uncertainty.

According to legend, upon hearing news of the battles at Lexington and Concord, local leaders in Mecklenburg County convened an emergency meeting and drafted a declaration proclaiming themselves “free and independent.” The idea that North Carolina may have led the way in declaring independence is a point of pride for many in the state. In fact, May 20, 1775, the supposed date of the declaration, is emblazoned on the North Carolina state flag and seal.

Yet for all its emotional and symbolic power, the Mecklenburg Declaration has a major problem: there’s no evidence it ever existed.

No original copy has survived. In fact, the first known reference to the document didn’t surface until 1819, more than 40 years after the supposed event. That version was reconstructed from memory by elderly men who claimed to have seen or signed it in their youth. These recollections were written down decades after the fact, raising serious doubts about their reliability.

Most historians today believe the Mecklenburg Declaration is a misremembered version of the “Mecklenburg Resolves,” a very real and much better-documented set of statements issued on May 31, 1775. These resolves denounced British authority and called for local governance, but they stopped short of declaring full independence.

Despite the lack of hard evidence, the legend of the Mecklenburg Declaration persisted, particularly in North Carolina. Even Thomas Jefferson, the principal author of the national Declaration of Independence, was drawn into the controversy when some accused him of borrowing from the Mecklenburg document—an accusation he vigorously denied.

Today, the Mecklenburg Declaration stands as a symbol, if not a historical document: a reminder of the spirit of independence, the complexities of memory, and the way legends can shape our understanding of the past. Whether or not it was truly the first declaration of independence, it remains a proud part of North Carolina’s revolutionary heritage.

Francis Channing Barlow: Chief Marshal of Concord’s Centennial

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Andrea Quinn.

In April 1875, Concord, Massachusetts, commemorated the centennial of the American Revolution’s beginning with a celebration that merged historical remembrance with contemporary national healing. At the heart of this tribute stood Major General Francis Channing Barlow, chosen as Chief Marshal for the event. His presence and leadership embodied the spirit of both Concord’s revolutionary origins and the sacrifices of the recent Civil War. Though his life included many achievements—from battlefield valor to public service—it was in this role as Chief Marshal that Barlow served as a living link between generations of American struggle and aspiration.

Photo Credit: Library of Congress 1864 Photo General Francis Channing Barlow

Barlow’s appointment was no mere formality. A Civil War general known for integrity, courage, and commitment to reform, Barlow had deep ties to Concord. As a youth, he was shaped by the town’s intellectual and moral environment, attending lectures by Ralph Waldo Emerson and immersing himself in the ideals of Transcendentalism. This upbringing instilled in him a strong sense of civic duty, justice, and personal responsibility—qualities that defined his wartime leadership and post-war public service.

The Concord Centennial was intended as more than a local remembrance—it was a national event. The town’s planning committee sought a figure who could represent both the revolutionary past and the post-Civil War Union. Barlow, whose own life had traced the arc of American idealism—from Brook Farm to the battlefields of Gettysburg and Spotsylvania—was their clear choice.

Continue reading “Francis Channing Barlow: Chief Marshal of Concord’s Centennial”

Visiting Parker’s Revenge

   During the recent ERW road trip to Massachusetts for the 250th events, I saw the newly marked Parker’s Revenge site at Minute Man National Historical Park. Some of our readers may know that recently the National Park Service conducted archaeology here and discovered the site of part of the April 19, 1775 battle. It was wonderful to see this site now marked and interpreted.

a historic marker
A marker now indicates the site of Parker’s Revenge. Author photo.

   Captain John Parker commanded the Lexington militia who confronted the British early that morning. Suffering eight killed and ten wounded, they fled in confusion from the Lexington green. Regrouping later that morning, they joined in the counterattack on the British column as it moved back towards Boston, the site being named Parker’s Revenge.

   Nathan Munroe, a veteran of the clash, remembered fifty years later, About the middle of the forenoon Captain Parker having collected part of his company, I being with them, determined to meet the regulars on their retreat from Concord. We met the regulars in the bounds of Lincoln. We fired on them and continued so to do until they met their reinforcement in Lexington.”

   While park staff had a general idea of where this occurred, recent archaeology confirmed the location. Not far from a section of the road, behind the Minute Man Visitor Center, there is a large rocky outcrop that for decades had been thought to be the site of this phase of the battle. Yet there was little evidence to support this theory.

a wooded battlefield
The site of the ambush. Author photo.

   A multi-year historical and archaeological investigation funded by the Friends of Minute Man National Park and the American Battlefield Trust, allowed archaeologists and volunteers to investigate the area. Finding musket balls and military artifacts, they could accurately determine troop positions.   

   The investigators searched the woods just north of the outcrop in the hopes of finding evidence of the British flankers, who moved ahead of and around the main body to protect it. Archaeologists found evidence of their position, as well as of the militia.   

A historic marker.
A second marker has an illustration of the fighting. Author photo.

   Today there is a maker identifying the site and discussing the recent archaeology. Another nearby provides an illustration to help envision the fighting here. These new markers are a good reminder that we are still learning and often do not have all the answers, even for a well preserved and well documented event like this.

250th Anniversary: Benedict Arnold’s War Begins, April 22, 1775

On Friday, April 21, 1775, word arrived in New Haven, Connecticut, regarding the fighting at Lexington and Concord. The Revolutionary War had begun, and thousands of militiamen from Massachusetts and the surrounding colonies in New England were converging around Boston to lay siege to the British army bottled up in the city. The next day, New Haven’s militia unit, the Governor’s Second Company of Guards, or Second Company, Governor’s Foot Guards, prepared to march to Cambridge.

Garbed in “A scarlet coat of common length, the lapels, cuffs and collars of buff and trimmed with plain silver wash buttons, white linen vest, breeches and stockings, black half leggins and small, fashionable and narrow ruffled shirt,” the Foot Guards made for quite the appearance. At the head of the 65-man-strong company was Captain Benedict Arnold, a leading member in revolutionary New Haven.

Arnold, 34-years-old at the outbreak of the war, had not stood pat during the decade leading up to April 1775. He was a member of the Sons of Liberty, and on multiple occasions, led mobs against the pro-monarchy members of the community. His leadership and zeal were recognized in March 1775 when he was elected captain of the militia. Like so many other patriots throughout the colonies, the shots fired at Lexington and Concord on April 19 would catapult Arnold onto a path to glory, and unfortunately for the country, later treason.

When the news arrived in town the evening of April 21, fifty-eight members of the Foot Guards voted to march to the assistance of their New England brethren. The next morning, Captain Arnold assembled the men on the New Haven Green, where the powder house was located. The doors were locked, and the keys to the stores in possession of New Haven’s Selectmen. Just off the green, at the intersection of College and Chapel Streets, stood Beers Tavern, where the Selectmen were gathered and discussing the town’s response to the recently received news.

The Foot Guards positioned themselves outside the building, while Arnold banged on the door demanding the keys to the powder house. The Selectmen refused to turn them over until official orders arrived. “None but the Almighty God shall prevent my marching,” Arnold passionately assured them. His forceful persuasion worked. The storehouse was opened, and the militia retrieved the necessary ammunition, flints, and powder. Once equipped, Arnold led his men out of New Haven and began a three-day march to Cambridge to join the fight.

Benedict Arnold Demands the Powder House Key by Mort Künstler

Idleness was not in Benedict Arnold’s nature, and upon arriving within the army’s camp, he approached the Massachusetts Committee of Safety with a proposal to lead an expedition against the British-held Ford Ticonderoga situated between Lake George and Lake Champlain in New York. The fort helped defend the crucial waterway system running north-south from Canada and housed cannon that could be vital to the patriot cause. The committee’s chairman, Dr. Joseph Warren, backed the plan and it was approved. On May 3, Arnold was promoted to colonel in the service of Massachusetts (not Connecticut) and was ordered to raise a force in western New England to accomplish the mission. The future hero of Saratoga and traitor to American liberty spurred his horse out of Cambridge and set his sights on taking “America’s Gibraltar.”