Timothy Newell kept a very vivid diary of life in Boston in 1775 and 1776. He started the entry below on this date, 250 years ago, by copying the “sundry papers lent me…relative to the Siege and Evacuation of Boston in 1775…”
To the Commanding Officer at Roxbury
March 8, 1776
As His Excellency Gen Howe is determined to leave the Town with the troops under his command, a number of the respectable Inhabitants, being very anxious for its preservation and safety, have applied to General Robertson for this purpose, who at their request have communicated the same to his Excellency Gen Howe, who has assurred him, that he has no intention of destroying the Town, unless the Troops under his command are molested, during their embarkation, or at their departure by the armed force without; which declaration he gave General Robertson leave to communicate to the Inhabitants. If such an opposition should take place, we have the greatest reason to expect the Town will be exposed to entire destruction. As our fears are quieted, with regard to General Howe’s intentions, we beg we may have some assurances, that so dreadful a calamity may not be brought on by any measures without. As a testimony of the truth above we have signed our names to this Paper, carried out by Mess Thomas and Jonathan Amory, and Peter Johonnet, who have at the earnest entreaties of the Inhabitants, through the Lieu Governor solicited a flag of truce for this purpose.
John Scollay 2. Timothy Newell 3. Thomas Marshall 4. Samuel Austin
*The General Robertson mentioned above was Brigadier General James Robertson, who commanded the 4th Brigade during the Siege of Boston
In March 1776, a quiet hill overlooking Boston Harbor became one of the first turning points of the American Revolutionary War. Dorchester Heights, rising above the southern approaches to Boston in what is now South Boston, played a decisive role in forcing the British Army to evacuate the city. The dramatic occupation and fortification of the Heights by American forces under General George Washington transformed a long, grinding siege into a strategic victory that reshaped the war’s momentum.
After the battles of Lexington and Concord in April 1775 and the bloody clash at Bunker Hill in June, British forces under General Thomas Gage and then William Howe found themselves effectively trapped in Boston. Surrounding militia units from Massachusetts and neighboring colonies formed a loose ring around the city, beginning what became known as the Siege of Boston. When George Washington arrived in July 1775 to take command of the newly formed Continental Army, he inherited a force that was determined but poorly supplied and short on artillery.
Throughout the fall and winter of 1775–1776, Washington searched for a way to break the stalemate. A direct assault on Boston would have been costly and risky. Instead, he looked to geography. Dorchester Heights, commanding sweeping views of the harbor and the city, offered a strategic advantage. If American forces could fortify the Heights with cannon, they would threaten both the British fleet and the troops stationed in Boston. Control of this high ground would make the British position untenable. The British Navy had encouraged British General Howe (now commanding the British forces in Boston) to take the position due to the Navy’s vulnerability if the Americans were able to command the heights with artillery. Howe underestimated the importance of the heights and also believed the Americans lacked the proper artillery and strength to hold it.
Knox marker on Dorchester Heights
The key to Washington’s plan lay in artillery. In late 1775, Colonel Henry Knox undertook an audacious mission to transport heavy cannons captured from the British at Fort Ticonderoga in upstate New York. Over the winter, Knox and his men hauled approximately 60 tons of artillery—an operation later dubbed the “Noble Train of Artillery”—over 300 miles of frozen rivers and snow-covered terrain to Cambridge, Massachusetts.
These cannons provided Washington with the firepower necessary to implement his strategy. By early March 1776, conditions were ripe. The ground was still frozen, making it easier to move heavy equipment and but would challenge their skills at building fortifications.
On the night of March 4, American troops moved silently toward Dorchester Heights. Under the cover of darkness and diversionary bombardments from other positions, they began constructing fortifications with remarkable speed. Using pre-prepared materials—fascines (bundles of sticks), chandeliers (wooden frames filled with earth), and hay bales—they built defensive works capable of withstanding British cannon fire.
By dawn on March 5, the anniversary of the Boston Massacre, British sentries were stunned to see formidable American fortifications atop the Heights, bristling with cannon aimed at the city and harbor. General Howe reportedly exclaimed that the rebels had accomplished more in one night than his army could have done in months. The strategic implications were clear. From Dorchester Heights, American artillery could rain fire down on British ships and troop positions. The Royal Navy, essential to British supply and mobility, was now vulnerable. Remaining in Boston was a risk that Admiral Molyneux Shuldham was not willing to take and pushed Howe to respond quickly.
General Howe initially planned a counterattack to dislodge the Americans. However, a fierce storm on March 6 disrupted preparations and made an amphibious assault difficult. Also, Washington got word of the planned British assault and increased his manpower on Dorchester Heights to nearly 6,000. The memory of heavy British casualties at Bunker Hill also weighed heavily. Dorchester Heights were even stronger and more defensible than Breed’s Hill had been the previous year.
Howe evacuating Boston, courtesy New York Public Library
Facing the prospect of severe losses and an increasingly precarious situation, Howe reconsidered. Negotiations—informal and indirect—suggested that if the British evacuated Boston without destroying the town, American forces would not attack during the withdrawal.
On March 17, 1776, British troops and Loyalists began evacuating the city. More than 11,000 soldiers and nearly 1,000 Loyalists boarded ships and sailed to Halifax, Nova Scotia. The Siege of Boston was over, and the city was firmly in American hands for the remainder of the war.
The occupation of Dorchester Heights marked the first major strategic victory for the Continental Army under Washington’s leadership. It demonstrated the effectiveness of coordinated planning, logistical ingenuity, and the intelligent use of terrain. Rather than launching a costly frontal assault, Washington had leveraged geography and artillery to compel the enemy’s withdrawal.
This victory also boosted American morale at a critical time. The war was far from won—indeed, it would intensify dramatically later in 1776 with British campaigns in New York—but the successful eviction of British forces from Boston showed that the Continental Army could achieve meaningful results.
Moreover, Dorchester Heights solidified Washington’s reputation as a capable commander. His cautious but decisive approach, combined with Knox’s logistical triumph, set a pattern for future operations. The event underscored the importance of high ground in military strategy, a lesson that had already been evident at Bunker Hill but was applied with even greater effect in March 1776.
Dorchester Heights and the 1902 monument today, part of the Boston National Historical Park, courtesy of NPS
For good reason, much has been done, discussed, developed, and disseminated regarding the voluminous correspondence between Abigail and John Adams. Yet, her spouse was not the only recipient of the wisdom and insight that Abigail possessed. She also became friends with and communicated with Catherine Sawbridge Macaulay Graham in England.
Catharine Sawbridge Macaulay Graham
Graham was a prominent English historian and writer, “at the forefront of radical transatlantic politics in the eighteenth century.” She was a prolific pamphleteer and considered one of England’s first major historians. She was a supporter of and wrote extensively on the American and French Revolutions. Through the cause of the former, she struck up a correspondence with Abigail Adams. Below is a letter from Abigail to Catherine in 1774 that highlights the current events in Massachusetts and also how close the two ladies on either side of the Atlantic Ocean had become in their letter writing. It is truly a remarkable letter that provides emotion and description of a friendship and life in Massachusetts on the cusp of revolution.
Madam
In the last Letter which Mr. Adams had the honour to receive from you, you express a Desire to become acquainted with our American Ladies.1 To them Mrs. Macaulay is sufficiently distinguished by her superior abilities, and altho she who is now ventureing to address her cannot lay claim to eaquil accomplishments with the Lady before introduced,2 yet she flatters herself she is no ways deficient in her esteem for a Lady who so warmly interests herself in the cause of America—a Cause madam which is now become so serious to every American that we consider it as a struggle from which we shall obtain a release from our present bondage by an ample redress of our Grieveances—or a redress by the Sword. The only alternative which every american thinks of is Liberty or Death.
“Tender plants must bend, but when a Goverment is grown to strength like some old oak rough with its armed bark it yealds not to the tug, but only nods and turns to sullen state.”
Should I attempt to discribe to you the complicated misiries and distresses brought upon us by the late inhumane acts of the British parliment my pen would faill me. Suffice it to say, that we are invaded with fleets and Armies, our commerce not only obstructed, but totally ruined, the courts of Justice shut, many driven out from the Metropolis, thousands reduced to want, or dependant upon the charity of their neighbours for a daily supply of food, all the Horrours of a civil war threatning us on one hand, and the chains of Slavery ready forged for us on the other. We Blush when we recollect from whence these woes arise, and must forever execrate the infamous memory of those Men whether they are Americans or Brittons, whose contagious Ambition first opened the pandoraen Box, and wantonly and cruelly scatterd the fatal ingrediants—first taught us filled with grief and anxiety to inquire
Are these thy deeds o Britton? this the praise
That points the growing Lusture of thy Name
These glorious works that in thy [better?] Days
fild the bright period of thine early fame
To rise in ravage and with arm prophane
From freedoms shrine each sacred Gift to rend
and mark the closing annals of thy reign
With every foe subdued, and every Friend.
You will think Madam perhaps from the account I have given you, that we are in great confusion and disorder—but it is far otherways. Tho there are but few who are unfealing or insensible to the general calimity, by far the greater part support it with that firmness, that fortitude, that undaunted resolution which ever attends those who are conscious that they are the injured not the injurer, and that they are engaged in a righteous cause in which they fear not to “bare their bold Breasts and pour their generous Blood.” Altho by the obstruction of publick justice, each individual is left at a loose, to do that which is right in his own Eyes, yet each one strives to shew his neighbour that the restraints of Honour and of conscience are more powerful motives, than the judiciary proceedings of the Law. Notwithstanding the inveterate Malice of our Enimies who are continually representing us, as in a state of anarchy and confusion, torn up with intestine broils, and guilty of continual riots and outrage, yet this people never saw a time of greater peace and harmony among themselves, every one uniting in the common cause, and strengthning each other with inconceivable constancy and sumpathetick ardor.
I mean always to Except those whose venal Souls barter freedom for Gold, and would sell their Country, nay gladly see an innocent land deluged with Blood, if they could riot upon its Spoils, which heaven Avert!—Tis with anxious Hearts and eager expectations that we are now waiting for the result of the united Supplications of America. Yet having so often experienced their Enefficacy we have little reason to hope. We think we have more to expect from the firm and religious observance of the association which accompanied them3—for tho it was formerly the pride and ambition of American[s] to indulge in the fashions and Manufactures of Great Brittain now she threatens us with her chains we will scorn to wear her livery, and shall think ourselves more decently attired in the coarse and plain vestures of our own Manufactury than in all the gaudy trapings that adorn the slave.—Yet connected as we are by Blood, by commerce, by one common language, by one common religion as protestants, and as good and loyal subjects of the same king, we earnestly wish that the three fold cord of Duty, interest and filial affection may not be snapped assunder. Tis like the Gordean knot. It never can be untied, but the sword may cut it, and America if she falls to use the words of the revered and ever honourd Mr. Pitt, will fall like a strong Man, will embrace the pillars of State and pull down the constitution along with her.
I must intreet your pardon Madam for Detaining you so long from the important Services in which you are engaged, but having taken up my pen I could not refrain giving utterance to some of those Emotions which have agitated my Bosom and are the cause of many anxious hours to her who begs leave to subscribe herself Dear Madam your great admirer & humble Servant,
In December 1775, Henry Knox wrote to General George Washington, “I hope in 16 or 17 days to be able to present your Excellency a noble train of artillery”. However, the train of artillery would not arrive until the end of January 1776. Still an impressive feat, as Knox with his team moved 60 tons (119,000 pounds) of artillery over 300 miles from upstate New York to the environs of Boston in 70 days in the midst of winter.
This impressive feat enabled Washington to evict the British from Boston, winning the siege and giving the fledgling rebellion a victory to build momentum from.
To discuss this amazing feat and part of American military history, Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes Dr. Phillip Hamilton, a professor of history at Christopher Newport University. A historian of the American Revolutionary and Early Republican periods, he has edited and written “The Revolutionary War Lives and Letters of Lucy and Henry Knox.”
Although the program is pre-recorded, Emerging Revolutionary War hopes you still tune in on Sunday, February 22 at 7 p.m. EDT. We promise the revelry will be enlightening. If you have any questions, please drop them in the chat during the program, and we will ensure Dr. Hamilton receives them.
In honor of the 250th anniversary of the Battle of Quebec, we reshare guest historian Scott Patchan’s post on Daniel Morgan during the Canadian Campaign of 1775. This post originally posted in December 2015.
When the situation deteriorated to outright rebellion against the crown, Morgan raised a regiment of crack riflemen from Frederick County, and marched them to Boston in twenty-one days to take part in the siege of Boston. There, he served under his former commander from the French and Indian War, General George Washington. Morgan learned the hard way that orders must be followed. He once allowed his riflemen to exceed orders in firing upon British positions at Boston. Washington called Morgan on the disobedience, and Daniel thought that he would be cashiered from the army. Washington, however, relented the next day, but Morgan had learned a valuable lesson about following orders.
Daniel Morgan in the American Revolution
In the fall of 1775, Washington sent Morgan as commander of three companies of Continental riflemen on a mission to capture Quebec from the British. Morgan’s command marched with the column of Colonel Benedict Arnold. They traversed the Maine wilderness, rowing up stream to the “Great Carrying Place,” where carried their canoes and bateaux for great distances overland to another series of streams and lakes that took them to Quebec. As the cold weather set in, sickness and hunger overtook the column and Arnold sent those unfit for duty back to the rear. After covering 350 miles, the American arrived in front of Quebec in early November, surprising the British.
Although Morgan wanted to attack immediately and utilize the element of surprise, he was overruled and the small American force besieged Quebec, waiting for another column under General Richard Montgomery to arrive from the Hudson Valley. When a British party sallied forth and captured one of Morgan’s riflemen on November 18, Arnold believed the British would come out and fight in the open. As such, Arnold drew up his army in front of the fortifications to meet them. They declined his offer and instead looked down on the ragamuffin Americans from the ramparts and exchanged taunts and catcalls. The overall situation frustrated the irascible Morgan, and when his men complained that Arnold was not giving the riflemen their fair share of rations, the “Old Wagoner” violently argued with Arnold, and nearly came to blows with the future traitor. Morgan departed Arnold, leaving him with angry warning about poor treatment of the riflemen. From that time forward, Morgan’s command always received their fair share of the army’s rations.
Montgomery’s column arrived on December 5, and the Americans commenced setting up his mortars and artillery outside of Quebec. The Americans finally attacked during a snowstorm in the early morning darkness of December 31, but their force numbered only 950 men. Arnold’s column came under fire as it moved toward the ramparts of Quebec, and a musket ball struck Arnold taking him out of action. Although Morgan was not the senior officer, the others insisted that he take command, having seen actual combat which they had not. Morgan later noted that this “reflected credit on their judgment.” At Morgan’s order, his riflemen rushed to the front, armed with both their Pennsylvania rifles and a spontoon for the assault while some carried ladders to storm the walls. They quickly drove a small force of British away and closed in on the walls.
Map of Battle of Quebec, 1775 (courtesy of British Battles)
Morgan ordered the men up the ladders and first one gingerly began the climb. Morgan sensed his hesitancy, pulled him down and scaled it himself, shouting, “Now boys, Follow me!” The men instantly complied, and Morgan reached the top of the wall where a volley of musketry exploded, knocking him back to the snow-covered ground. The burst burnt his hair and blackened his face; one ball grazed his cheek and another pierced his hat; but Morgan was otherwise unhurt. Stunned he laid motionless on the ground for a moment, and the attack stopped, his men thinking him dead. But he soon stirred and clambered up the ladder to the cheers of his men who followed suit. This time he stopped before reaching the top, and hurtled himself over the rampart into the midst of the enemy. He landed on a cannon and injured his back and found British bayonets levelled at him from all directions. While the British focused on Morgan, his riflemen poured over the wall and came to his rescue, driving off Morgan’s would-be impalers. Morgan kept up a close pursuit of the British who offered weak resistance to the attacking riflemen. Although Morgan had broken into Quebec, the main body of Arnold’s division failed to follow the riflemen over the wall and exploit the opportunity at hand. Morgan captured much of the lower portion of Quebec with only two companies of his riflemen. He later described the breakdown that occurred:
“Here, I was ordered to wait for General Montgomery, and a fatal order it was. It prevented me from taking the garrison, as I had already captured half of the town. The sally port through the (second) barrier was standing open; the guard had left it, and the people were running from the upper town in whole platoons, giving themselves up as prisoners to get out of the way of the confusion which might shortly ensue. I went up to the edge of the upper town with an interpreter to see what was going on, as the firing had ceased. Finding no person in arms at all, I returned and called a council of war of what few officers I had with me; for the greater part of our force had missed their way, and had not got into the town. Here I was overruled by sound judgment and good reasoning. It was said in the first place that if I went on I should break orders; in the next, that I had more prisoners than I had men; and that if I left them they might break out and retake the battery we had just captured and cut off our retreat. It was further urged that Gen. Montgomery was coming down along the shore of the St Lawrence, and would join us in a few minutes; and that we were sure of conquest if we acted with caution and prudence. To these good reasons I gave up my own original opinion, and lost the town.”
Montgomery never arrived; he had been killed in the first blast of musketry against his column, and his command broke. As time went on, the British regained their composure and pushed back against Morgan’s command. Morgan went back and brought up 200 New Englanders who joined the riflemen as they attempted to renew the attack. Now, the previously undefended point, was well manned, and daylight illuminated the paucity of Morgan’s numbers. Nevertheless, Morgan pressed them back further into the town to an interior fortification. A brave British officer led a counterattack, but Morgan personally shot him dead and disrupted the assault. Nevertheless, the time for action had passed. The British had become aware that Morgan’s was the only active American force in the city and closed in around him. In the meanwhile, additional British forces reoccupied the gates Morgan had initially taken and trapped him in the city. Morgan had no choice but to surrender his small command.
One artist’s depiction of the Battle of Quebec, 1775. Both forces are wearing blue overcoats. (courtesy of British Battles)
Morgan and the other officers enjoyed a liberal captivity with generous quarters in a seminary. The British officers visited them often and remained on friendly terms with the Americans. Morgan developed a dislike for some of his fellow officers whom he regarded as dishonest and scheming, and his fighting skills were brought to bear on at least one occasion when several men teamed up against big Dan Morgan. The imprisonment ended when the British returned the American officers on September 24, 1776, in New Jersey. Morgan returned to his wife and two daughters at his home outside of Battletown or Berryville, where he awaited his proper exchange. While there, he named his home “Soldier’s Rest,” as he recuperated from the trials of the taxing expedition to Quebec. The war was still young, and the Continental Army would soon be calling upon his services again. A special command of riflemen was being organized and Morgan would be its commander.
I want to take a moment to give a shout out to the Quincy Historical Society in Quincy, Massachusetts.
For my upcoming ERW Series book on John Adams in the Revolution, Atlas of Independence, I included an appendix that highlights a number of Adams-related sites in his hometown of Quincy: his birthplace; the home he first lived in with Abigail; his later-in-life home, Peacefield; the “Church of the Presidents,” which includes his crypt; and several other cool spots.
One of the places I direct people is to Merrymount Park, which features two monuments to Adams and members of his family. The newer of the two consists of a statue of John that stands across a small plaza from a dual statue of Abigail and a young John Quincy. The distance symbolizes the distance between John and his family for much of his public life.
Sculptor Lloyd Lillie created the Abigail and John Quincy statues first, in 1997. They stood together in downtown Quincy along Hancock Street. John was installed across from them in 2001, separated by traffic. When the city redesigned downtown and created the new Hancock-Adams Commons in 2022, the statues were relocated to Merrymount Park to join an older monument already standing there.
That older monument was a little harder to investigate.
The monument itself is made from Quincy granite, a longtime staple of the local economy. A bas relief bronze tablet mounted on the granite shows John and an adult John Quincy—both as presidents—seated together for an imagined conversation with each other. An inscription reads: “Father and Son, Second and Sixth Presidents of the Nation, Statesmen, Diplomats, Patriots, and Builders of our great Republic, they labored in the vanguard of human democracy on this soil.”
Beyond that, I knew the memorial had once been moved to the site where the John and John Quincy birthplaces stand along Franklin Street, but I didn’t know when and I didn’t know when the monument came back to Merrymount. I couldn’t even find the year of the monument’s dedication or the name of the sculptor. The internet didn’t seem to know these things, and none of my reference materials referenced them.
And so it was that I reached out to the Quincy Historical Society to see if they might have anything in their archives that could help me out.
Archivist Mikayla Martin went above and beyond to assist, sending me a neat little bonanza of stuff! Since she sent me more material than I had room for in the book, I thought I’d take the opportunity to share my windfall here so that you, too, could benefit from the Quincy Historical Society’s kindness.
The memorial, as it turned out, was dedicated in 1927. The chief of staff of the United States Army at the time, Maj. Gen. Charles P. Summerall, served as master of ceremonies for the event, according to a clipping from the Patriot Ledger the historical society sent me:
Photographer Warren S. Parker captured this image of the Adams Memorial on April 18, 1929. (courtesy of the Quincy Historical Society)
The Patriot Ledger hailed the memorial’s sculptor, Bruce Wilder Saville, as “One of Quincy’s most distinguished native sons.” Saville was best known in town for another of his works, the WWI “Doughboy” Memorial that stood in front of the Coddington School. The Quincy Historical Society included Saville’s obituary from the Patriot Ledger, which I’ll reproduce below, along with a photo of the Doughboy Memorial that the society sent me.
Another newspaper clipping revealed that the $5,000 memorial was a gift to the city of Quincy from the U.S. government. In 1961, city leaders voted to move the monument to the Adams birthplaces, but when the NPS took over management of the site 1979, the city returned the monument to Merrymount Park. I’ll reproduce a newspaper article related to that, as well (see below).
Every monument and memorial has a story of its own, and I find those stories fascinating. They can tell us a lot about the people they honor as well as the people who are doing the honoring.
Please consider supporting your own local historical society (and, if you’re so inclined, please consider supporting the Quincy Historical Society while you’re at it). Organizations like this provide invaluable services to researchers everywhere, but more importantly, they carry the torch for the history in your own back yard.
Approximately two months after waging the defense of Breed’s Hill, on the Charlestown peninsula, against the British, Colonel William Prescott put quill to paper to write to John Adams. In this communique, he discussed the action at Breed’s Hill, known as the Battle of Bunker Hill, fought on June 17, 1775, to his fellow Massachusetts native. Take note that he even wrote his account about the orders he received and which hill that missive directed him to. Since the waft of smoke has drifted from the battle on that June day, veterans, officers, and historians have debated why Prescott and company chose Breed’s Hill instead of Bunker Hill. This letter is just another wrinkle in that timeless debate.
Camp at Cambridge August 25.1775
Sir
I have recd. a Line from my Brother which informs me of your desire of a particular Account of the Action at Charlestown, it is not in my Power at present to give so minute an Account as I should choose being ordered to decamp and march to another Station.
On the 16 June in the Evening I recd. Orders to march to Breeds Hill in Charlestown with a party of about one thousand Men consisting of 3 hundred of my own Regiment, Coll. Bridge & Lieut Breckett with a Detachment of theirs, and two hundred Connecticut Forces commanded by Capt. Nolten, We arrived at the Spot the Lines were drawn by the Enginier and we began the Intrenchmant about 12, o Clock and plying the Work with all possible Expodition till Just before sun rising, when the Enemy began a very heavy Canonading and Bombardment, in the Interin [Interim] the Enginier forsook me, having thrown up a small Redout, found it necessary to draw a Line about 20 Rods in length from the Fort Northerly, under a very Warm Fire from the Enemys Artilary, About this Time the above Field Officers being indisposed could render me but Little Service, and the most of the Men under their Command deserted the Party. The Enemy continueing an incessant Fire with their Artilary. about 2, o Clock in the afternoon on the seventeenth the Enemy began to land a northeasterly Point from the Fort, and I orderd the Train with 2 field Pieces to go and oppose them and the Connecticut Forces to support them but the Train marched a different Course & I believe those sent to their support followd, I suppose to Bunkers Hill, another party of the Enemy landed and fired the Town, There was a party of Hampshire in conjunction with some other Forces Lined a Fence at the distance of three score Rods back of the Fort partly to the North, about an Hour after the Enemy landed they began to march to the Attack in three Columns, I commanded my Lieut Coll. Robinson & Majr. Woods Each with a detachment to flank the Enemy, who I have reason to think behaved with prudence and Courage.
I was now left with perhaps 150 Men in the Fort, the Enemy advanced and fired very hotly on the Fort and meating with a Warm Reception there was a very smart firing on both sides. after a considerable Time finding our Amunition was almost spent I commanded a sessation till the Enemy advanced within 30 yards when we gave them such a hot fire, that the [y] were obliged to retire nearly 150 yards before they could Rally and come again to the Attack. Our Amunition being nea [r ]ly exaustid could keep up only a scattering Fire. The Enemy being numerous surrounded our little Fort began to mount our Lines and enter the Fort with their Bayonets, we was obliged to retreat through them while they kept up as hot a fire as it was possible for them to make we having very few Bayonets could make no resistance, we kept the fort about one hour and twenty Minutes after the Attack with small Arms, This is nearly the State of Facts tho’ imperfect & too general which if any ways satisfactory to you will afford pleasure to your most obedient humble Servt.
William Prescott To the honble John Adams Esqr.
Image of original letter from Prescott to Adams, courtesy of Massachusetts Historical Society
We’re excited to share one of the 2026 new releases in the Emerging Revolutionary War Series. Published by Savas Beatie, a sneak peek, including the cover, is below.
About the Book:
“I wish we could sell them another hill at the same price we did Bunkers Hill,” Nathanael Greene wrote to the governor of Rhode Island after the battle of June 17, 1775.
Actually fought on Breed’s Hill outside Boston, Massachusetts, the battle of Bunker Hill proved a pyrrhic victory for British forces. Confident in their ability to overwhelm the New England militia that opposed them, long lines of neatly uniformed British infantry and marines swept uphill toward a quickly built earthen redoubt defended by a motely collection of farmers, shopkeepers, and tradesmen.
“Don’t fire until you see the whites of their eyes!” the colonials urged each other—or did they?
By the end of the fight, the British gained the summit and Colonial forces scattered. One of the patriot leaders, Dr. Joseph Warren, lay dead—one of the first martyrs of the American Revolution. But for the British, the scene was far, far worse: it would be the greatest number of casualties they would ever suffer in any battle of the American Revolution. As British General Henry Clinton commented afterward, “A few more such victories would have surely put an end to British dominion in America.”
The siege of Boston would continue, but the sobering lesson of Bunker Hill changed British strategy—as did the arrival soon thereafter of a new commander-in-chief of Continental forces: General George Washington.
In A Dear-Bought Victory, historians Daniel T. Davis and Phillip S. Greenwalt separate the facts from the myths as they take readers to the slopes of Breed’s Hill and along the Boston siege lines as they explore a battle that continues to hold a place in popular memory unlike few others.
About the Authors:
Daniel T. Davis is the Senior Education Manager at the American Battlefield Trust. He is a graduate of Longwood University with a bachelor’s degree in public history. Dan has worked as a Ranger/Historian at Appomattox Court House National Historical Park and Fredericksburg and Spotsylvania National Military Park. He is the author or co-author of numerous books on the American Civil War. This is his first co-authored book in the Emerging Revolutionary War Series. Dan is a native of Fredericksburg, Virginia.
Phillip S. Greenwalt is the co-founder of Emerging Revolutionary War and a full-time contributor to Emerging Civil War. He is a graduate of Wheeling Jesuit University with a bachelor’s degree in history along with graduate degrees in American History and International Studies and Leadership from George Mason University and Arizona State University, respectively. He is the author of co-author of seven books on the American Revolutionary and Civil Wars. Phill has worked for the National Park Service for the last 17 years at numerous natural and cultural sites. He is a native of Baltimore, Maryland.
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian David Stowe.
William Billings looked like an oaf, wrote poetry, snuffed small fistfuls of tobacco in company, taught himself to write music, was a street-cleaner, was an artist.
-David McKay and Richard Crawford, William Billings of Boston (1980)
I knew I wanted to write a book about William Billings. I just wasn’t sure which kind would be possible. I’ve been writing about the quirky Boston composer since my second book, How Sweet the Sound (2004) and always find more to say about him. His colorful adaptation of a Hebrew psalm to the American Revolutionary cause helped fuel my interest in what became Song of Exile: The Enduring Mystery of Psalm 137 (2016).
So how did I come to write a historical novel about him?
Partly because I came to the end of my sources and didn’t have nearly enough to tell the story I thought he deserved. There were many parts of Billings’s experience, including the most important ones, I’d never have access to. But his life was too rich and interesting to leave alone. So I was left with no choice but to make it up.
There were some other, possibly better reasons. One had to do with audience.
Dedicated in 1881 and made of bronze, the statue of Colonel William Prescott stands over nine feet tall. Although the man who stood steadfast on the earthen parapet of Bunker Hill was not quite that tall. Yet, on June 17, 1775, the men of New England looked up to the approximately 50-year-old that day.
A National Park Service page on Colonel Prescott and Bunker Hill is titled, “A Glorious Immortality.”An account that was passed down about the Massachusetts militia officer vividly describes why he deserves that moniker.
“The breast work or redoubt was only constructed of such earth as the party had thrown up after the middle of the night and was not more than breast high to a man of medium height. Colonel Prescott being a very tall man, six feet and two or three inches in height, his head and shoulders and a considerable portion of his body must have been exposed during the whole of the engagement. He wore a three-cornered cocked hat and a ban-yan or calico coat. After one of his men was killed by cannon ball, Prescott, perceiving that this had made some of the soldiers sick at heart, mounted tile para-pet and walked leisurely around it, cheering his soldiers by approbation and humor. His clothing was repeatedly spattered with the blood and the brains of the killed and wounded.”
Leadership. Example. Personal bravery. He was also one of the last to leave the earthwork as the British captured it.
He now stands, in bronze, watching over the scene where he proved he was a match for the moment.
Emerging Revolutionary War Era 