In Baltimore, Maryland stands one of the first monuments erected to the memory of George Washington. The 180-foot monument was finished in 1829, before the Washington Monument in D.C. was even begun. The impressive stone pillar is topped with a large statue of the General. Unlike most other statues of George Washington, the statue in Baltimore does not depict the Revolutionary War hero on horseback with his sword drawn, or as the First President of the United States. Instead it shows Washington, in his military uniform, simply extending a hand holding a piece of paper. Despite the simplicity of the scene, it is representative of one of the most important moments in the founding of the American nation: Washington resigning his military commission.

On November 1, 1783, Washington learned that the Treaty of Paris had been signed and the Revolutionary War was over. On December 4, Washington bid an affectionate farewell at Fraunces Tavern in New York City to his officers and aides he had struggled and fought alongside for the previous eight years.
After the emotional farewell, Washington rode to Annapolis, Maryland where Congress was meeting at that time. He arrived at Annapolis on December 19 and was greeted as a hero. Congress agreed to accept his resignation on December 23, in a special ceremony.
The night before the ceremony, the town threw a celebratory ball for the General, complete with a dinner and dancing as well as thirteen cannon firings and thirteen toasts.

At about noon on December 23, 1783, George Washington entered the Old Senate Chamber in the Maryland State House. The importance of the moment was not lost on those who witnessed it, least of all, Washington himself. Washington is likely the only American who could have been made a king in America. In fact, in 1782, Colonel Lewis Nicola wrote a letter to Washington, suggesting that he should be king of America. Washington, quickly and emphatically crushed any notion of establishing a monarchy. More than a great general or leader, Washington believed in the ideals of American liberty and civilian rule.
In London, King George III remarked that if Washington gave up his power “he will be the greatest man in the world.”[1] Only a few times in human history before had a person at their zenith voluntarily surrendered all their power. Julius Caesar, William Cromwell, and Napoleon Bonaparte are prime examples of those who seized power at that same moment. Few men have been able to resist and became drunk with power. Washington was one of the few exceptions. One of the only precedents of rejecting the allure of that amount of power was in ancient Rome, when Cincinnatus gave up power after winning a war to become a simple farmer. Washington was about to become the American Cincinnatus.

Inside the chamber, Washington stood before the Continental Congress and its president, Thomas Mifflin, and read his concluding remarks. At one point, the power of the moment overtook Washington as he struggled through with a cracked voice the last few lines of his remarks. Washington finished his remarks: “Having now finished the work assigned me, I retire from the great theater of action; and bidding an affectionate farewell to this august body under whose orders I have so long acted, I here offer my commission and take my leave of all the employments of public life.”[2]
Those inside the chamber were overtaken with emotion and wept in the galleries. Concluding his remarks, Washington handed over to the Congress his commission dated June 15, 1775 and his remarks and left the building. And like that, Washington was once again a simple private citizen.

He rode from Annapolis and made it back to Mount Vernon the next day on Christmas Eve. It was the first time he had been home for Christmas since the beginning of the war. He could enjoy that Christmas with his family, but world history would never be the same again.
Today you can visit the location where this momentous event took place and see Washington’s hand written remarks on display at the Maryland State House in Annapolis. While the date of December 23, 1783 does not usually bring to mind a historic event, historian Ron Chernow described the event as “more extraordinary than any military feat during the war.”[3]
Washington would again be called back reluctantly to lead the nation as its first president in 1789. After serving two terms as president, Washington once again voluntarily gave up power in 1797. His disinterestedness in control and power set a precedent many have sought to emulate, and few have attained.
[1] Chernow, Ron. Washington: A Life. New York: Penguin Books, 2010. 454.
[2] Ibid., 456.
[3] Ibid., 457.


sites within the city that interpret the story of the beginning of the American Revolution. Many sites are along the famous and popular “Freedom Trail.” The Freedom Trail winds through the city and connects historic sites, churches, monuments, museums and cemeteries that focus on the story of 18th century Boston. The trail can be identified by a double brick pattern located in the sidewalk. The 2 ½ mile trail begins at Boston Common and ends at the Bunker Hill Monument. Several sites in this book are included in the Freedom Trail, but there are others that are just as important that are not on the path of the trail. All the locations for this section are in walking distance, though we highly encourage you to use public transportation as driving in Boston can be challenging. Most attractions/sites in Boston are conveniently served by the “T” subway system.
Due to the expansion of the Boston shore lines over time, the actual location of Griffin’s Wharf is not near the water today. Some argue it was at the foot of Pearl Street near the intersection of Pearl Street and Atlantic Avenue. There is a plaque commemorating the Boston Tea Party located on Seaport Boulevard. To see the plaque, take Atlantic Avenue and make a right onto Seaport Boulevard, the plaque is located on the building to the right near the bridge (GPS: N 42.354147, W 71.050977).
The town meeting held on the night of December 16, 1773 at the Old South Meeting House was no ordinary meeting. Boston was well known for its public meetings, but this one was different. Frequently city leaders called town meetings to discuss important political, economic and social decisions facing the city or colony. The town meeting was a foundation of the political process for Massachusetts and much of the New England colonies. Royal authorities had watched these meetings more closely since the 1760s during the opposition to the Stamp Act. Colonial Whigs (anti Royal leaders) had used these meetings to protest British policies that they saw as threats to their liberties.
India Company. Before 1773, the company had to sell its tea in London and was subject to duties. The company had collected large quantities of tea in warehouses in London and was looking for a way to disperse the tea at a bargain. The Tea Act allowed the company to sell directly to American ports without paying the duties. This also forced American buyers to only purchase their tea from the East India Company, which was subject to a tax. The good news was the price of tea was reduced because the Company no longer had to pay the duties in London. Colonists resisted the notion that Parliament could force them to buy tea from the East Indian Company (many made a good living off of smuggled tea sales) and that they were required to pay a tax on the tea.
Many details remain unknown about who exactly the “Mohawks” were that marched on Griffin’s Wharf that night. The men used lamp soot and red ochre to disguise their faces and carried a wide assortment of weapons. As they made their way to the wharf, they yelled and “whooped” as Indians in a war party. If they had coordinated the timing with leaders in the Old South Meetinghouse, it is still unknown. The identities of most of these men either were never recorded or are lost to history; that is how tight their veil of secrecy was coupled with their sophisticated organization. As they made their way to the ships, the Whig leaders inside the Old South Meetinghouse stayed behind and were never directly part of what happened next.





















