Have you ever heard of the popular saying, “No good deed goes unpunished?”
I wonder if there is a reverse to that, especially when it comes to stumbling into history?
Earlier in June, my uncle needed to go out of town and wanted someone to watch his house and two cats. He resides outside of Wilmington, Delaware. Thinking mid-June would be a good time to catch some of the historical sites in Philadelphia on the brink of the 250th in July, and with World Cup soccer games being played in the same city, even better.
I planned to go into the “City of Brotherly Love” one day, but thought the other day I would just drive around Wilmington and New Castle and see what I could discover. A day with no set plans. And that is when I stumbled into “Separation Day” in New Castle.
Depicted in various paintings, still standing watch over Breed’s Hill, his name is synonymous with the heroic American defense of the earthen redoubt that graced the aforementioned hill. Although forced to evacuate the work when overwhelmed by the third British advance and out of ammunition, Prescott had shown his value as a competent battlefield leader. Especially of the militia.
Yet, as America approached the 250th anniversary of the country, there had not been a single dedicated biography that covered his entire life. Prescott is mentioned in plenty of great historical works on the battle, the region, and the lives of other patriots who fought that day. But the Massachusetts native deserved more. Entered Donald R. Ryan.
Ryan, a volunteer historian and guide for Boston National Historical Park, took on the task of researching, locating, and even contacting living descendants of Prescott. You can now hold in your hands and read his excellent work on this great military figure, best known for his role in one of the most iconic battles of the American Revolution.
Before you do get your copy and settle in to read, tune in on Sunday evening, as Ryan will appear on our popular “Rev War Revelry” to discuss his book. Emerging Revolutionary War will go live at 7 p.m. EDT. and stream to our Facebook page.
Cannot make the live program on Sunday evening? Don’t fret, the program will be posted to our podcast and YouTube channels in the days after. Either way, hope you tune in to learn about Col. Prescot!
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Bjorn Bruckshaw
On a chilly but sunlit afternoon in Providence, smoke began to rise over Market Square—not from hearth fires meant to warm the town, but from a blaze built in defiance. As the smell of burning tar and tea drifted through the streets, cheers and shouts of defiance echoed through the square. Nearby, a man moved quickly from shop to shop, brush and lampblack in hand. One by one, he painted over a single word on storefront signs: TEA. This was no act carried out in secret. According to the Providence Gazette, he was “a spirited Son of Liberty,” and he worked in full view of the town as a crowd gathered around the growing fire.¹
Just beyond him, the protest had already begun.
Earlier that day, a town crier had moved through Providence announcing that a quantity of India tea would be burned in the Market Square that afternoon, calling upon “all true friends of their country, lovers of freedom, and haters of shackles and hand-cuffs” to assemble and cast the tea into the flames.² By the appointed hour, the square was filled. This was no spontaneous outburst. It was organized, deliberate, and intended to be seen.
At the center of the gathering, flames climbed upward as a barrel of tar was placed upon the fire. Into it were thrown not only tea—hundreds of pounds of it—but also printed copies of Lord North’s speech and other “obnoxious English papers.” ³ the destruction was more than economic protest. It was a public repudiation of British authority itself. And then came the moment that set Providence apart.
These were not men disguised as Mohawk Indians, shrouded in secrecy under the cover of night as in Boston. This was something different—an open, public act carried out in daylight. At its center stood the women of Providence, dressed in everyday clothing, without disguise, stepping forward with the same patriotism and candor to cast the tea into the flames before the gathered town.⁴
In that moment, the Providence Gazette captured one of the most remarkable features of the event, noting that the tea was “fed to the fire by the women of the town.”⁵ Women, long central to colonial resistance through boycotts and the management of household consumption, now stood in the public square, actively participating in the destruction itself. This was not quiet resistance confined to the home. It was visible, communal, and unmistakable.
The prominence of women in the Providence protest did not go unnoticed beyond Rhode Island. In Virginia, the event was reported in the Virginia Gazette, where the destruction of tea was described in strikingly gendered and satirical terms. The article referred to the event as the “funeral of Madam Souchong,” personifying the tea as a female figure while simultaneously reinforcing contemporary stereotypes about women.⁶ In doing so, the report transformed the protest into a symbolic spectacle, revealing how acts of resistance in one colony could be interpreted—and reshaped—by observers in another.
Rhode Island had already established itself as one of the most defiant colonies in British North America. Its long-standing resistance to imperial regulation, fueled by its maritime economy and frequent clashes with customs enforcement, made it a persistent source of frustration for British authorities. Loyalist observers took note. Writing during the conflict, Peter Oliver described resistance in New England as the work of “lawless men” driven by mob influence, portraying their actions as rooted in disorder rather than lawful opposition.⁷ British officials expressed similar concerns in the aftermath of the Gaspee Affair, viewing the destruction of the customs schooner as a “daring insult to the authority of the Crown” and evidence that resistance in Rhode Island had reached a dangerous level.⁸ In June 1772, that defiance became unmistakable when local patriots burned the Gaspee, a British vessel sent to enforce imperial law.
The British response only deepened colonial fears. Officials threatened to transport suspected participants to England for trial, raising concerns about the erosion of traditional rights and legal protections.⁹ In Rhode Island, the lesson was clear: British authority was not only intrusive but increasingly dangerous.
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Michael Aubrecht
If one was to define the life and legacy of Colonel Johann Gottlieb Rall (Rahl) they may use the term “victim of circumstance.” His is the ironic tale of a military man, whose stubborn nature and bad luck resulted in an untimely death. As the commander of the Hessian Troops garrisoned at Trenton New Jersey, Rall was the unfortunate recipient of General George Washington’s surprise attack that followed his brilliant crossing of the Delaware River on Christmas night in 1776.
There have been many different versions of this story, but a reexamination of the events by modern military historians has yielded a more redeeming conclusion to Rall’s defeat. Whereas it was once believed that the Hessian troops were celebrating the holiday and simply too intoxicated to properly defend the garrison and themselves, experts now believe that Rall and a sober regiment of German soldiers may have underestimated the resolve of their adversaries.
One aspect of this story that hasn’t changed took place prior to the attack…
A young boy had been given a spy report from a local Loyalist with directions to deliver it to a Hessian colonel who was in occupation of the City of Trenton. The note, written in English, was intended to inform the commander that the Continental Army was crossing the river and planning to attack. It is said that the colonel did not want to be interrupted during his Chess game (some say cards), so he put the unread note in his pocket. The story concludes with the note being found, still in his pocket, unopened, after he died in battle.
As both a Chess and Rev-War aficionado, I decided to do a little research into this specific part of the story to see what information was available. What I found was completely different than I had originally anticipated.
EDITOR’S NOTE: Emerging Revolutionary War has been pleased to co-sponsor a series of Monday-evening programs to commemorate the America 250th at St. Bonaventure University, where contributor Chris Mackowski teaches. In March, the line-up of programs featured a student research panel. We are pleased to present today the work of one of the “emerging scholars” from that panel, Alex Payne.
Alex is a junior Theology and Franciscan Studies and History double-major from Shinglehouse, PA, with a minor in classics.
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Sailor’s ballads in the late 17th and early 18th centuries communicated revolutionary sentiment that influenced the ideological origins of the American Revolution. Sailors’ ballads from revolutionary Atlantic history show how labor culture intersected with protest, emerging revolutionary sentiment, and identity formation. These protest and revolutionary ballads are what I refer to as “records of thought” of oppressed people. By “records of thought,” I mean oral traditions in the form of songs sung by people who were religiously and civilly oppressed that have been written down and transmitted through centuries.
The starting point of the record of thought of oppressed people is with the “Diggers’ Song” attributed to Gerard Winstanley. Winstanley was the leader of the Diggers, similar to but separate from the Leveller movement that emerged during the English Civil Wars between 1641–1659. The Diggers, known to history as radical land reformists, were led by Winstanley. They believed in an agrarian socialism and would “dig up” the land that was unjustly and inhumanly taken from the English commoners. The oppression they endured is found in the record of thought appropriately named “The Diggers’ Song.” This ballad was sung on St. George’s Hill in Surrey around 1649 by 20–30 men. It reads:
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Ben Powers
Huw Davies’s work The Wandering Army: The Campaigns That Transformed the British Way of War posits that the British Army underwent a period of enlightenment during the late eighteenth century, inspired by its poor showing in the War of the Austrian Succession. Officers turned to continental Europe to study military art in the same spirit that enlightenment scholars studied moral philosophy. This period of military change, innovation, and adaptation encompassed what Davies refers to as “the interconnected relationship of these three areas: military thought, experience, and knowledge exchange, which together drove Britain’s accidental military enlightenment.”
Davies documents that the British Army in the 1700s entered a doldrums of intellectual and tactical stagnation in the early decades of the century, following its successful participation in the War of the Spanish Succession. Victory bred complacency, leading to a poor showing at Fontenoy in 1745. He goes on to demonstrate that defeat galvanized officers to undertake self-directed study of military theory and share lessons learned with other officers, forming a community of practice. Officers later combined these efforts with practical experience gained through active campaigns and peacetime training, resulting in cycles of learning throughout the latter half of the eighteenth century. Davies’s work contributes to the historiography of the British Army by demonstrating that officers actively sought to synthesize the latest military theories, their own combat experiences, and the ideas of their peers into innovative systems to address challenges across multiple theatres of war.
Davies uses a variety of evidence, including historical analysis, accounts of officer practices, and descriptions of training reforms. The bibliography of The Wandering Army contains almost 600 entries, ranging from period treatises, manuals, and official correspondence such as orderly books and military returns, to contemporary newspapers, to historical manuscripts. Davies traces a paper trail of British study of military art from 1745 to 1815, showing that officers studied war, applied what they learned, and discussed war in public forums and personal correspondence. He cites examples of General Henry Clinton walking and studying old battlefields in 1774 to prepare himself for future challenges (Davies, 82–83); Lord Charles Cornwallis’ establishment of a standardized system of drill and equipage for his troops in India, based on lessons he had learned during the War for American Independence (Davies, 204); and the establishment of a camp for the training of light troops at Shorncliffe, England, to teach innovative tactics to light infantry, developed by Sir John Moore (Davies, 287–315).
When you think of Maryland in the American Revolutionary War, what are the first connections that come to mind? Taking a stab at it, probably the Maryland 400 during the Battle of Brooklyn in 1776? Or possibly the 1st Maryland at the Battle of Guilford Court House in 1781? If you are a national park junkie, potentially Thomas Stone National Historic Site, home of one of Maryland’s four Signers of the Declaration of Independence, may come to mind. If you are not familiar with that NPS unit, click here.
To fill in those gaps, Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes historian Drew Palmer. He is the creator of Revolutionary Maryland, which is an online public history blog that is “dedicated to uncovering and sharing all things related to the state’s experience during this transformative period.”
Palmer is a Revolutionary War historian, a U.S. high school history teacher, and the creator of Revolutionary Maryland. Palmer has worked as a public historian at numerous historic sites over the years, including Appomattox Courthouse, Fort Ticonderoga, Adams National Historical Park, and Fort McHenry National Monument and Shrine. Palmer’s research primarily focuses on the Revolutionary War in Maryland and the South. Most recently, he published his research on Fort Whetstone and the Maryland Matrosses during the Revolutionary War. He also worked with Fort McHenry to direct a short documentary on Fort McHenry’s 250 years of history. Palmer earned his B.A. in history from DeSales University in 2023 and his M.A. in applied history from Shippensburg University in 2024. He currently lives outside of Baltimore and is working on multiple research topics involving the Revolutionary War.
Emerging Revolutionary War is proud to welcome a great emerging historian of the Revolutionary War Era to the “Revelry.” We hope you can join us, live, on Sunday, April 19, at 7 p.m. EDT on our Facebook page.
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historianBjorn Bruckshaw, a bio follows the post.
British nautical chart of the eastern portion of Long Island Sound showing the location of Block Island and the surrounding waters where the Continental Navy squadron encountered HMS Glasgow on April 6, 1776. Courtesy of the Library of Congress, Geography and Map Division. Public domain.
In the early morning hours of April 6, 1776, a lone British warship slipped through the moonlit waters southeast of Block Island. The twenty-gun frigate HMS Glasgow was carrying dispatches from Newport, Rhode Island, to the British fleet assembling off Charleston, South Carolina. Suddenly the ship’s lookout sighted sails on the horizon—then more sails behind them. Within minutes Captain Tyringham Howe realized the alarming truth: his single ship had encountered nearly the entire fleet of the newly created Continental Navy.¹
What followed should have been a decisive American victory. Commodore Esek Hopkins commanded a squadron of seven armed vessels, including the flagship Alfred, the brigs Cabot and Andrew Doria, and several additional ships. Against them stood only one British frigate. Yet by dawn the British ship had fought its way free and escaped. The encounter became one of the earliest—and most embarrassing—naval engagements of the American Revolution.²
The clash southeast of Block Island revealed the weaknesses of the young American navy: inexperienced crews, poor coordination between ships, and ineffective gunnery. Despite overwhelming numerical superiority, the Continental squadron failed to capture a single enemy warship. As one frustrated American officer later remarked, “A more imprudent, ill-conducted affair never happened.”³
The British vessel at the center of the encounter was HMS Glasgow, a sixth-rate twenty-gun frigate of the Royal Navy. In early April 1776 the ship had been tasked with delivering dispatches from Newport to the British fleet gathering off Charleston for an upcoming campaign against the southern colonies. That expedition would ultimately culminate in the failed British assault during the Battle of Sullivan’s Island in June 1776.⁴
Meanwhile the American rebellion had begun extending onto the seas. The Second Continental Congress had authorized the creation of a navy in late 1775 to challenge British control of American waters. By February 1776 the first ships of the fleet were ready for service, and Congress appointed Hopkins as commander-in-chief of the new force.⁵
Hopkins’s squadron consisted largely of converted merchant vessels hastily adapted for war. The fleet included the flagship Alfred, along with Columbus, Cabot, Andrew Doria, Providence, Wasp, and Fly. Among the officers serving aboard the fleet was a young lieutenant named John Paul Jones, who served aboard the Alfred and would later gain fame as one of the most celebrated naval commanders of the Revolution.⁶
Was the Battle of Germantown an American failure or a British success? Did the Continental Army lose due to an overly complicated plan, environmental factors such as fog, and poorly applied military judgment, or was the British Army’s resistance a decisive factor? The defense of the Chew House demonstrates that the British were professional, tenacious, and courageous, rather than the fortunate recipients of the fruits of an American blunder. Led by Lieutenant Colonel Thomas Musgrave, the men of the 40th Regiment of Foot established a strongpoint that disrupted American momentum and derailed the attack. Musgrave and the 40th Regiment of Foot transformed the Chew House into an obstacle that delayed the American advance long enough for British forces to reform and counterattack. This episode reveals the significance of British leadership and discipline under severe conditions, thereby reframing the context of the Battle of Germantown.¹
Germantown occurred at a time when the Continental Army was undergoing a transformation from an amateur to a professional military. American officers engaged in self-directed study of “books upon martial science” and were known to carry such texts among their baggage and haversacks when on campaign.² In this manner, Continental officers sought to emulate their European counterparts.³ One officer known to have made a detailed study of the art and science of war was Washington’s Chief of Artillery, Henry Knox.⁴ At the time of Germantown, the officers of the Continental Army had been at war for over two years and had learned many practical lessons; however, many officers, including Washington, continued to hold Knox’s auto-didactic military education in high esteem. The gap between knowing theory and its practical application would become apparent, to the detriment of the Continentals, at Germantown.
In contrast, the British Army officer corps had been fully engaged in a minor military enlightenment through the latter half of the eighteenth century. While British officers engaged in self-study programs similar to Knox’s, they could more readily share the results of their study within an established army, comparing and contrasting ideas and adopting best practices.⁵ The British Army was able to synthesize the best practices from both theory and combat experience into regulations that informed the training and operational deployment of all its formations.⁶
Early interpretations of the battle frequently emphasized confusion and poor execution, particularly the American decision to attack the Chew House. Yet the battle was “very much more than a contest… for the possession of a country house.” More recent scholarship describes the plan for the attack on Germantown as a sophisticated maneuvering scheme that nearly succeeded. Its subsequent failure owes more to British action than American incompetence.
On this date in 1776, Major Joseph Ward, serving as a staff officer for Major General Artemas Ward, second in command of the Continental Army that had just evicted the British from Boston, sat down at his desk to pen the following letter. The recipient was John Adams, a fellow Massachusettsan then serving in the Second Continental Congress in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Ward continued his correspondence of keeping Adams apprised of military affairs around Boston. In this letter, however, he makes the case for the colonies to “cut the Gordian knot” and declare independence, months before Richard Henry Lee’s proposal to call for independence in late June 1776.
Boston 23 March 1776
Sir,
The 17th Instant the Pirates all abandoned their Works in Boston and Charlestown and went on board their Ships, and on the 20th they burnt and destroyed the works on Castle Island. They now lye in Nantasket Road waiting for a fair wind; we keep a vigilant eye over them lest they should make an attack on some unexpected quarter. The particulars with regard to the Seige, the Stores taken, &c. you will receive from better authority, therefore it is unnecessary for me to mention them. Our Troops behaved well, and I think the flight of the British Fleet and Army before the American Arms, must have a happy and very important effect upon the great Cause we engaged in, and greatly facilitate our future operations. I wish it may stimulate the Congress to form an American Government immediately. If, after all our exertions and successes, while Providence offers us Freedom and Independence, we should receive the gloven cloven foot of George to rule here again what will posterity, what will the wise and virtuous through the World say of us? Will they not say, (and jusly) that we were fools who had an inestimable prize put into our hands but had no heart to improve it! Heaven seems now to offer us the glorious privilege, the bright preeminence above all other people, of being the Guardians of the Rights of Mankind and the Patrons of the World. It is the fault of the United Colonies (a rare fault among men) they do not sufficiently know and feel their own strength and importance. Independence would have a great effect upon the Army, some now begin to fear that after all their fatigue and hazards in the Cause of Freedom, a compromise will take place whereby Britain may still exercise a power injurious to the Liberty Peace and Safety of America: Cut the Gordian knot, and the timid and wavering will have new feelings, trimming will be at an end, and the determined faithful friends of their Country will kindle with new ardour, and the United Colonies increase in strength and glory every hour.
Yesterday I saw your Brother, who informed that Mrs. Adams and your Children were well.
General Ward, on account of his declining health, has wrote his Resignation to the President of the Congress. I expect the greatest part of the Army will march for New York, or the Southern Colonies as soon as the Fleet is gone to Sea; and the Troops that remain here will be employed in fortifying the most advantageous Posts to defend the Town and harbour. I do not much expect the Enemy will make any attempts to regain possession of Boston, for I think they are sufficiently convinced that they cannot penetrate the Country in this part of America; ’tis probable they will try their fortune to the Southward and if they fail there the game will be up with them. We hear many accounts about Commissioners coming from Britain to treat with the Colonies separately, or with the Congress. Many fear we shall be duped by them, but I trust the congress is too wise to be awed by the splendor or deceived by the cunning of British Courtiers.
I know not of one discouraging circumstance attending either our civil or military affairs in this part of the Continent. I have lately heard with pleasure that the Farmer is become an advocate for Independence.Wishing the Congress that Wisdom which is from above, I am Sir with much Respect Your most Humble Servant,Joseph Ward
Emerging Revolutionary War Era 