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.”
“LISTEN, my children, and you shall hear Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five”
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow penned the poem, “Paul Revere’s Ride” in 1860. Now as America moves toward celebrating the 250th anniversary of Paul Revere’s famous ride, which happened on this date in 1775, another literary work has hit the market on this very topic.
Published on March 25 by Kostya Kennedy, Chief of Premium Publishing at Dotdash Meredith, with a lengthy career in writing, teaching, and journalism. The book reads like Revere’s ride, a fast-paced, descriptive overview of the man, events, and memories around the night of April 18, 1775. For those who have read David Hackett Fischer’s book, published in 1994, you may not find anything groundbreaking or new. However, that is not the point I feel in this book.
Kennedy pens this to get the reader hooked. Sets of rhetorical questions, “what-if” scenarios, and descriptive writing make the reader feel that they are in the environs of Boston or on the routes to Lexington traversed by Revere. Oh, and Kennedy does not forget Dawes, Prescott, and others who also played prominent roles in April 1775.
History enthusiasts and content experts may find a few shortcomings and errors, such as Kennedy continuing to use “Royal” when discussing the British Army. Since the English Civil War, the British Army has lost the right to use “Royal” in front of it. A few times, he labels the “British” as coming when the colonists would have used “Regulars” or “Redcoats.” Lastly, falling into the ag-old myth that Lexington had minutemen and a militia, the town just had the latter. Trivial things that do not impact the flow of the narrative.
A highlight to me, though, is the final sections about the memory of that day. Including a great insert of an interview with the direct descendant of Paul Revere and a comical anecdote about Paul Revere III being pulled over for speeding in Lexington, Massachusetts one year on April 18.
The book is a great read on the anniversary of Paul Revere’s Ride. Take it from me, I read the book in a day! Descriptive, vivid, and convince you that if you have not been, a trip to Boston and the Massachusetts countryside should be in your near future.
Published by: St. Martin’s Press, March 25, 2025 Images, sources, 282 pages
Fredericktown, Maryland, August 1, 1775, a gentleman on business wrote to his contact in Philadelphia the following observation of a company of volunteers answering the call to head north to Boston to join what would become the Continental Army
“Notwithstanding the urgency of my business, I have been detained three days in this place by an occurrence truly agreeable. I have had the happiness of seeing Captain Michael Cresap marching at the head of a formidable company of upwards of 130 men, form the mountains and backwoods, painted like Indians, armed with tomahawks and rifles and dressed in hunting shirts and moccasins, and though some of them had travelled near eight hundred miles from the banks of the Ohio, they seemed to walk light an easy and not with less spirit than at the first hour of their march. Health and vigour, after what they had undergone, declared them to be intimate with hardships and familiar with danger. Joy and satisfaction, were visible in the crowd that met them. Had Lord North been present, and been assured that the brave leader could raise thousands of such to defend his country, what think you, would not the hatchet and block had intruded upon his mind? I had an opportunity of attending the Captain during his stay in Town, and watched the behavior of his men, and the manner in which he treated them; for it seems that all who go out to war under him do not only pay the most willing obedience to him as their commander, but in every instance of distress look up to him as their friend or father. A great part of his time was spent in listening to and relieving their wants, without any apparent sense of fatigue and trouble. When complaints were before him he determined with kindness and spirit, and on every occasion condescended to please without losing is dignity.”
esterday the Company were supplied with a small quantity of powder from the magazine, which wanted airing, and was not good for rifles ; in the evening, however, they were drawn out to show the gentlemen of the town their dexterity at shooting. A clap board, with a mark the size of a dollar, was put up ; they began to fire at it off band, and the bystanders were surprised, few shots being made that were not close to or in the paper. When they had shot for a time in this way, some lay on their backs, some on their breast or side, others ran twenty or thirty steps, and firing, appeared to be equally certain of the mark. With this performance the company were more than satisfied, when a young man took up a board in his hand, not by the end, but by the side, and holding it up, his brother walked to the distance, and very coolly shot into the white ; laying down bis rifle, he took the board, and holding it as it was held before, the second brother shot as the former had done. By this exercise I was more astonished than pleased. But will you believe me, when I tell you, that one of the men took the board, and placing it between hia legs, stood with his back to the tree while another drove the centre. What wonld a regular army of considerable strength in the forests of America do with one thousand of these men, who want nothing to preserve their health and courage but water from the spring, with a little parched corn, with what they can easily procure in hunting ; and who wrapped in their blankets, in the damp of night, would choose the shade of a tree for their covering, and the earth for their bed.”
Although a depiction of the 1st Maryland at Guilford C.H in 1781 some of these men are dressed similar to the riflemen mentioned above (wikipedia)
*Account is in “Papers Relating Chiefly To the Maryland Line During the Revolution” Thomas Balch, editor. pgs. 6-7.
On June 15, 1775, George Washington was appointed by the Second Continental Congress as commander-in-chief of the Continental Army. Approximately a month later he rode into Cambridge, Massachusetts, to the house below, to assume command over that army. After he met the officers at Jonathan Hastings House near Harvard College campus, learning about operations and the siege. He was then directed toward an opulent residence standing about a mile away. Named the Vassall-Craigie-Longfellow residence, this place would become the focal point of the effort against the British in Boston. Washington moved in. He spent the next nine months in residence, overseeing the Siege of Boston and the British evacuation.
From this house, Washington began putting his footprints on the army and met some of the officers that became instrumental in securing American independence. This included the Rhode Islander Nathanael Greene and Massachusetts native and bookseller Henry Knox among others. Martha Washington, in December 1775, traveled over 440 miles from Mount Vernon to Cambridge to winter with her husband in this house. The making of Washington, the general, started here.
The power of place.
Today, the house preserved by the National Park Service today can be toured, click here for information.
The Battle of Bunker Hill is routinely mentioned in the pantheon of memorable American military victories. Although myths of the engagement have obscured some of the history, much like the smoke of battle, the patriot victory on June 17, 1775, was another pivotal moment in the early stages of what became the American Revolutionary War.
To discuss the engagement, ramifications, and interpretation of the battle, Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes historian Dr. Paul Douglas Lockhart, Professor of History at Wright State and author of “The Whites of Their Eyes, Bunker Hill, the First American Army, and the Emergence of George Washington.” A full biography of Dr. Lockhart, including his other works, is at the bottom of this post.
As a teaser, this may be the first time in “Rev War Revelry” history that we mention Artemas Ward, who according to Dr. Lockhart is the “unsung hero of the battle (and indeed of 1775).” Come hear why! And full disclosure, I agree.
We hope you can join us on Sunday, January 21 at 7 p.m. EDT on Emerging Revolutionary War’s Facebook page for the next installment of the popular “Rev War Revelry.” Be ready to ask questions as you sip your favorite beverage during this historian happy hour.
Biography of Dr. Lockhart
“Paul Douglas Lockhart is Professor of History at Wright State University in Dayton, Ohio, where he has taught since earning his PhD in 1989. A native of Poughkeepsie, New York, Lockhart completed the PhD at Purdue University, where he studied military history with the late Gunther Rothenberg, the renowned Napoleonic scholar, and early modern European history with Charles Ingrao. He has seven single-author books to his credit. Four of them deal with the history of Scandinavia during the “Age of Greatness,” including Denmark, 1513-1660: The Rise and Decline of a Renaissance Monarchy, published by Oxford University Press in 2007. He is probably better known for his books on military history: The Drillmaster of Valley Forge: The Baron de Steuben and the Making of the American Army (2008), The Whites of Their Eyes: Bunker Hill, The First American Army, and the Emergence of George Washington (2011), and most recently his study of the parallel evolution of warfare and firearms: Firepower: How Weapons Shaped Warfare (2021). Wright State has awarded him the Brage Golding Distinguished Professorship and the Trustees’ Award for Faculty Excellence, the University’s highest academic honor. The Ohio Academy of History named him Distinguished Historian for 2020-21, and in 2021 he was elected to membership in The Royal Society for Danish History for his contributions to the history of Denmark, an honor rarely accorded to foreigners. He lives in Centerville, Ohio, with his family.”
For those that write and research it can be a personal albeit lonely endeavor. Hours spent in libraries or archives, humped over your computer or pad and pencil taking copious notes. Eyes going bleary or cross-eyed trying to decipher 18th century handwriting or microfilmed pieces of primary data. But, at the same time, it is such a rewarding experience, is it not? Uncovering the past, shedding light on the personalities that comprise the fabric of American history. Maybe even finding overlooked accounts or information that changes the narrative or promotes a fuller picture?
For me, I enjoy finding quotes or descriptions that creates a better understanding of the world in which the soldiers and civilians of the American Revolutionary or American Civil War periods lived. Anything that humanizes them more I feel makes them relatable. Breathes life into who they were, instead of just what comes through in official dispatches, reports, or polished accounts they left behind. One way is to read the accounts of fellow officers or compatriots as they discuss or describe their fellow comrades-in-arms.
Or there is just Israel Putnam. The patriot general who on April 19, 1775 when hearing of the British march to Lexington and Concord famously left his plow in a half plowed farm field to rush from Connecticut to Massachusetts. In the process he rallied his militia and stuck around for the siege that followed the first shots of what would become the American Revolution.
Israel Putnam
That is where I picked up his tale. Researching an upcoming volume of the Emerging Revolutionary War Series. (Stay tuned for what that will be in the upcoming months. Yes, “vague booking” and self-promotion happening!) During the siege of Boston he was asked in a meeting of general officers about the “expediency of intrenching” as a few of the gathered were doubtful of its efficacy on the psyche of the volunteer militia.
Putnam’s response fit the mold mentioned above, of providing a human touch to the notes of that meeting and a bit of 18th century humor for added measure.
The general responded, “earnest in his advocacy of the measure” that,
“The Americans are not at all afraid of their heads, though very much afraid of their legs: if you cover these, they will fight for ever.”
Time and defensive tactics would uncover the truth of that statement.
In closing, what is a favorite line, anecdote that is not well known from the American Revolutionary period that resonates with you?
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes a guest post from historian Keith J. Muchowski. Keith is a librarian and professor at New York City College of Technology (CUNY) in Brooklyn. He blogs at thestrawfoot.com.
The plaque dedicated King Juan Carlos I in June 1976 today tucked in a corner of the visitor center. Courtesy Author
King Juan Carlos I arrived in Brooklyn’s Fort Greene Park on Saturday June 5, 1976 to great fanfare. The thirty-eight-year-old monarch had ascended to the Spanish throne just seven months previously, two days after the death of Francisco Franco. The new leader was determined to reform his nation after three and a half decades of strongman rule. Juan Carlos I’s ancestor, King Carlos III, had helped the colonists achieved their independence nearly two centuries previously with his supply of money, matériel, and men. Many of those Spaniards made the ultimate sacrifice; well over one hundred of them alone perished in British prison ships moored off Brooklyn Wallabout Bay during the war.[i] Now King Juan Carlos I was in the outer borough to recognize them, dedicate a tablet to his fallen countrymen, and help his American hosts celebrate the bicentennial of their independence. The entombed Spaniards were among the over 11,500 men commemorated by the Prison Ship Martyrs Monument. The king’s visit in the mid-1970s was the latest in a series of public commemorations of the prison ship dead dating back over a century and a half. Some of the institutions that did so much to recognize the martyrs, such as the Society of St. Tammany, are today long gone. Others however very much remain. The Society of Old Brooklynites, a civic organization founded in 1880 when Brooklyn was still an independent municipality, has been holding events since the late nineteenth century.
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Kate Bitely.
In the heart of Fredericksburg, Virginia, you will find a well-preserved, Georgian-style home that once belonged to Betty Washington Lewis, the sister of George Washington. Historic Kenmore, as the home is known today, was constructed in the 1770s and originally sat on 861 acres near downtown Fredericksburg. Today, the historic house museum is open for daily tours where guests can explore the gardens, the main living floor of the home, several historic structures on the priority, and a visitor center filled with riveting artifacts and information.
Nearly 290 years ago, Betty Washington was born at Pope’s Creek in Westmoreland County, Virginia. As a young child, she lived in a few properties owned by the Washington family before relocating to Ferry Farm, located in Stafford County, Virginia, where Betty, George and their siblings grew up. On February 22, 1750, Betty married Fielding Lewis, a widowed distant cousin, and a father of two young children. In 1752, the family purchased 1300 acres in the Fredericksburg area and allocated a portion of the land as the future site for their home Millbrook, which was eventually renamed to Kenmore in the 1800’s. In total, Betty and Fielding welcomed eleven children, but only six survived to adulthood.
Fielding Lewis was a well-known member of his community. He built his wealth initially as a merchant, but was later elected as a member of the House of Burgesses and served as a colonel in the Revolutionary War. During the war, however, Lewis used his finances to personally pay for munitions and supplies for Patriot troops which ultimately drained much of the family’s resources.
The Lewis family were staunch Patriots. In 1775, when the Lewis’s were moving into their home, the spirit of independence was strong throughout the colonies. Given the Washington’s status, heritage and devotion to service, Betty and her family would become one of the biggest supporters for the Patriot cause, willing to risk their home, finances, reputation, and their safety in favor of breaking away from England. The impressive residence served as a visual representation of their wealth, which became significantly more important during the Revolutionary War.
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Werther Young.
I’m Too Sexy for My…Bavarian Fly
By Werther Young
Of all of the unique things that have managed to make it to the internet, a concise history of colonial men’s pants flies is surprisingly not one of them.
Our story begins in the Renaissance in, where else, France. King Henry III of France eschewed the old-fashioned dress and hose and embraced a new fashion, culottes, now known as “knee breeches.”
Henry III in his dress and hose
Henry III in his tony new culottes.
The fly of Henry’s pants was a simple affair, a rectangular panel sewn to the left side with buttonholes that buttoned over the right. This simple and practical design became known as the “French fly” and became almost universal in Western Europe over the next 60 years.
Ann Bonny the pirate, in French fly trousers, ca. 1721.
Over time, Ann Bonny’s “long” French fly was perfected into the “short” French fly. Anne’s fly extends from the inseam to the waistband. By merely sewing a few inches of the front seam together, the fly can be made shorter, removing a buttonhole and button or two.
These fly designs apparently did not reach into Eastern Europe, where presumably leather pants were as expensive as wool ones but lasted much longer, because they were never washed. Translating the French Fly into leather posed some problems, and so these leather pants had a different fly, essentially a hole in the center front with a panel buttoned over it that flipped or dropped up and down as necessary. This design caught on in the Alpine areas of central Europe, and especially in Bavaria under the label of “Lederhosen,” which is German for “leather pants.”
“Short” French Fly Breeches, ca. 1750.
The Bavarian fly migrated further north, as in the Deutsches Museum in Berlin can be found a pair of enlisted trousers from the mid-1700s, with a half drop front fly; that is, it opens only the right side. This is essentially a cheaper fly, because it needs only one button to close, and does the same thing.
By the middle 1700s, the French fly had been around for over 150 years, and someone in France started a different fashion (and outdoing the Huns) by putting the two -opening Bavarian fly on culottes, thus making the culottes “a la Bavarois,” French for “like the Bavarians.” This was runway level high fashion for the time, and quickly spread among the well to do as the latest thing, with a new name, the “drop front” or “fall front” fly. Unfortunately, translating the design from leather, which does not unravel, to fabric, which does, made the Bavarian fly extremely complicated and therefore expensive. This of course added to its cachet, so much so that by 1775, it had reached the aristocracy even in the backwater of Colonial America.
Lederhosen
Colonial Williamsburg has a fabulous collection of high-status men’s pants from the 18th century. A survey thereof shows the number of French flies waning into the 1770s, and the number of Bavarian drop front flies waxing beginning in 1775, reaching a height about 1800. Unfortunately, these are all very high-status garments, such as a pair of “button front breeches of cream-colored silk velvet, with repeat of small pink and green flowers self-covered buttons, those at knee embroidered with metallic silver thread. Silver galloon strap at knee.” But did the states and Continent really issue enlisted soldiers what amounts to hand made Givenchy trousers? Of course not.
The false idea that they did partially comes from a series of paintings done by Charles M. Lefferts in the early 1900s, later published as Uniforms of the Armies in the War of the American Revolution, 1775–1783. in 1926.
A Lefferts rendering of trousers a la Bavarois, 2d Maryland 1777.
Measuring this man’s height against the known length of his musket makes him about 6’4 inches tall, the height of actors Clint Walker, Chuck Connors, Clint Eastwood, and the average NBA basketball player. If you look below the point of his vest, he is wearing drop front pants over his massive thighs. Curiously, he is also wearing a 1760s style skirted vest and long regimental coat. Are we to believe that Maryland issued its men old fashioned vests and coats, but high fashion breeches? Since Lefferts was born in 1873, he had no first-hand knowledge of his subject, we must look to period images.
Alas, these are of little help. It is difficult to discern whether any of the men in period paintings are wearing French Fly pants, Bavarian drop front pants, or anything else. The most informative images, the von German drawings, are unfortunately from the side, and of no help.
Von German “American Soldier” New York Hist Soc.
Amerikanische Scharfschutz, Brown University
Since information is so scarce, we must turn to the other reason we believe that rev war soldiers wore drop front pants. Klinger’s Sketchbook ’76. Page 9 shows a pair of Bavarian drop front breeches, based on George Washington’s uniform in the Smithsonian, and Lt. Col. Tench Tilghman’s uniform from the Maryland Historical Society. This is odd, because Washington’s uniform is from the 1794, 15 years after the war and at the height of the drop front craze. Tilghman was the scion of a blue blood family, owned half of Baltimore, was an aide to Washington, and hobnobbed with Lafayette. Even if his uniform can be dated to the war years, it is not only a high-status uniform, but one of the highest status possible in America at the time; his not wearing Bavarian trousers would be of greater note. Neither are evidence that any of the 13 colonies nor the Continent paid to make their enlisted men such high fashion trousers.
On Sketchbook page11, Klinger bases his Bavarian drop front overalls on unspecified plates in “Bernard’s History of England” and the images above. While these may establish Bavarian drop front flies supplied by the King George, it certainly does not necessarily mean that the colonies were doing so.
Surprisingly, two pairs of enlisted overalls are known to exist, mistakenly labelled as “Pantaloons,” and residing in the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Costume Department. These are exquisitely made, and probably military examples, but unfortunately European, and from 1793 and later.
No credible evidence exists that any of the 13 colonies nor the Continent issued its troops Bavarian drop front pants. This makes sense, as that design is difficult to make, does the exact same thing as the simple French fly, and fashionable pants do not really contribute much extra to Liberty. Additionally, with all but the highest status clothiers making French fly pants, retraining them to cut out and make the new design would seriously impede production, even assuming that patterns and training could be somehow provided from Georgia to Vermont at a time when the men could barely be supplied a musket or shirt. In the War of the Revolution, the colonists were by all indications wearing French fly breeches and overalls, not drop front ones a la Bavarois.
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian George Kotlik
Introduction
By 1775, King George III ruled over nineteen provinces in British North America.[1] Six remained loyal to the Crown during the Revolutionary War. Historians have so far explored, in great depth, the various reasons why the thirteen original colonies rebelled. On the flipside, why did some colonies remain loyal? What role did colonial governors play in securing their province’s loyalty during the rebellion? In an attempt to answer these questions, this research will focus on British North America’s mainland colonial governors and general assemblies during 1775. Data on the backgrounds of each British colonial governor on the North American mainland was gathered from their respective biographies. Hereafter, each governor’s background is considered by colony, listed in alphabetical order. Each biography is brief and not meant to be comprehensive. There is not enough time or space in this paper to accomplish that end. Instead, the biographies help determine the type of individual who governed each province at the rebellion’s onset – a unique factor that I argue contributed, in whatever small way, to a colony’s political disposition during the American Revolution. In addition to looking at provincial executive leadership, I have also inspected general assemblies. General assemblies were an important aspect in this research due to the fact that the mere presence of an assembly influenced a colony’s political disposition in 1775. What’s more, colonial governors wielded the authority to dissolve assemblies. That connection, in addition to the assemblies’ influence on provincial loyalty, I argue, merits their inclusion in this study.[2]
Emerging Revolutionary War Era 