Embattled Farmers or Continentals?

The First Blow for Liberty. Battle of Lexington, April 1775. Copy of print by A. H. Ritchie after F.O.C. Darley (Library of Congress)

There is a sense in the American military tradition that the Republic has relied on citizen-soldiers in times of crisis to bolster its army rather than maintain a large standing force. While the modern American military, post-1945, has increased in size and power to accommodate the global commitments incurred in the wake of World War II, for the bulk of American history, the United States sought to make do with a small professional force, bolstered with militias called to arms and volunteers when war threatened. While this arrangement for national defense was in part driven by fiscal concerns, as a large standing army incurs a cost to the treasury, another aspect concerned how the United States perceived itself. The early Republic, and before its establishment, the thirteen original colonies, inherited from England a distrust of standing armies and a faith in community militias. Historian John Galvin’s The Minutemen posits that the colonial militia, especially in New England, had a long tradition of active training participation, evolving organization, and combat experience prior to the commencement of hostilities on 19 April 1775, and that it was the progenitor of the American citizen-soldier who won the American Revolution.[1] In contrast, James Kirby Martin and Mark Edward Lender argue in A Respectable Army: The Military Origins of the Republic, 1763–1789 that commitment to militia duty was honored largely in the breach in the American colonies prior to the revolution, that the militia performed unevenly during the War for Independence, and that ultimately the Continental Army achieved the victory that cemented America’s freedom.[2] Martin and Lender conclude that the American tradition of a sturdy yeoman militiaman is more legend than fact and used to justify maintaining a small regular army during the early days of the republic.

    The notion of the American militiaman responding to an alarm to defend his own appears repeatedly in the literature on the Revolutionary War. John Shy, in his 1962 paper on colonial military systems, described the notion underlying the efficacy of the militia system as “only when free men must themselves fight to maintain their liberty are they likely to remain free.”[3] According to Fred Anderson Berg in his encyclopedia of Continental Army forces, the militia systems of the American colonies evolved from English tradition, and were geographically organized around townships and counties, and were designed to serve for short periods, without pay, and in proximity to their homes. The intent was for them to be an “in extremis” force designed to protect their own neighborhoods. Anderson’s entry on the militia in the American Revolution paints their performance in a favorable light and does nothing to contradict the idea that militia units contributed significantly to securing American Independence.[4] David Hackett Fischer reinforces these points in his analysis of the events of April 1775, providing a brief summary of the martial qualities of the men of Massachusetts Bay Colony, specifically noting that at least once a generation between 1689 and 1763, the militia answered the call to arms in operations against indigenous peoples or French colonial opponents, either separately or in combination.[5] Despite these descriptions of militia origins, motivations, or performance, none of the writers delved into what made militia troops effective, as John Galvin did in his book The Minutemen, The First Fight: Myths and Realities of the American Revolution.    Galvin first appears as an unlikely proponent of the militia tradition. He spent his career as a professional soldier, having graduated from the United States Military Academy, served multiple tours in Vietnam, and ultimately retired as a General Officer as the Supreme Commander of Allied Forces in Europe.[6] Upon closer examination, his motivation for doing so becomes apparent. Galvin was a native of Massachusetts and keenly interested in the military history of his home state. He grew up learning the myth that when the King’s troops departed Boston to collect military supplies stored in Concord, every day farmers left their homesteads, banded together against the invaders, and chased them back to whence they came. The take did not make sense to Galvin precisely because of his military training and combat experience. Such a performance in battle suggested organization, command & control, and logistical forethought rather than a spontaneous response to a threat.[7]

     Galvin set out to learn the facts behind the myth and discovered that the Massachusetts troops that responded to the alarm of 19 April 1775 enjoyed substantial advantages. He learned, contrary to legend, that the colonists benefited from significant logistical and preparation and training, political support, and a highly organized administrative structure that turned the colony’s country structure into a regimental system capable of rapidly assembling combat power when required. Gavin found that this level of sophistication was the product of an evolving system of alarm companies and other community-based defensive systems dating back to the late 17th century, combined with a renewed emphasis on readiness dating from the fall of 1774, when Massachusetts Committees of Safety began preparing in earnest for what they felt was an inevitable clash with the British troops occupying the colony.[8] This combination of tradition, commitment, and anticipation resulted in a system that could be activated as required, with each participant trained and equipped for action, knowledgeable of their leadership, with an overarching command structure prepared to lead once the men took the field.[9]

     Galvin paints a picture of a highly prepared and motivated militia force and documents how the Massachusetts colonists achieved this level of readiness. In contrast, James Kirby Martin and Mark Edward Leander postulate that the militia tradition had to be modified to enable the Americans to field a long-service professional force capable of meeting the British Army in sustained combat.[10]

Surrender of Cornwallis. Painting by John Trumbull. (Library of Congress)

  In A Respectable Army, The Military Origins of the Republic, 1763-1789, Lender and Martin do not seek to contradict Galvin, but to show that the Massachusetts militia structure was not replicated throughout all thirteen colonies in the spring of 1775, nor were even the Massachusetts militia inclined to remain in the field for prolonged operations.[11] The authors make an effective case that the militia earned an uneven reputation throughout the war, with experienced officers such as Nathaniel Greene arguing that men “coming from home with all the tender feelings of domestic life were not sufficiently fortified with natural courage to withstand the shocking scenes of war.”[12] Greene’s point is that long service in the field, under discipline and consistent training, molded men into effective combat soldiers. Lender and Martin argue that this is precisely the hardening that the Continental Army provided. The authors point out that after the opening battles of the war, the militia’s performance against British regulars was uneven at best. Militia forces provided the bulk of Washington’s troops during the ill-fated battles around New York City in the summer and fall of 1776, in which the British and Hessian troops under Howe forced Washington to evacuate the city and retreat across New Jersey to Pennsylvania by the end of the year. Despite retrieving his fortunes with lightning strikes at Trenton and Princeton in December 1776 and January 1777, Washington’s fortunes were at a low ebb, and he sought to rebuild his Army into a more professional force capable of holding its own in the field. Lender and Martin document that he was able to do just that, relying more on long-service volunteers than short-service militia to achieve his ends. The reality of Continental Army service clashed with the myth of the virtuous citizen-soldier: Washington’s troops were not yeomen protecting home and hearth, but men on the margins of society hoping to improve their fortunes through military service. They were available to serve precisely because they did not have a large stake in the day-to-day running of their home communities.[13]

      Galvin presents a contrasting argument to Martin and Lender regarding the militia’s contribution to victory in the American Revolution. While Galvin’s arguments are well-documented, his focus is narrowly oriented toward the Massachusetts colony and the events of April 1775. He does not extrapolate his conclusions to the militia’s overall contribution throughout the war, whereas Martin and Lender demonstrate that militia quality was uneven, combat performance was lacking, and that the military leaders of the United States sought to create a more professional force to achieve military success.

Bibliography

Berg, Fred Anderson. Encyclopedia of Continental Army Units: Battalions,
     Regiments and Independent Corps
. Harrisburg, PA: Stackpole Books,
     1972.

Fischer, David Hackett. Paul Revere’s Ride. New York: Oxford University
     Press, 1994.

Galvin, John R. The Minute Men: A Compact History of the Defenders of the
     American Colonies, 1645–1775
. New York: Hawthorn Books, 1967.

Martin, James Kirby, and Mark Edward Lender. A Respectable Army: The
     Military Origins of the Republic, 1763–1789
. Arlington Heights, IL:
     Harlan Davidson, 1982.

Shy, John. A People Numerous and Armed: Reflections on the Military
     Struggle for American Independence.
New York: Oxford University
     Press, 1976.


[1] John R. Galvin, The Minute Men: A Compact History of the Defenders of the American Colonies, 1645–1775 (New York: Hawthorn Books, 1967), 59-67.

[2] James Kirby Martin and Mark Edward Lender, A Respectable Army: The Military Origins of the Republic, 1763–1789 (Arlington Heights, IL: Harlan Davidson, 1982), 45.

[3] John Shy, A People Numerous and Armed: Reflections on the Military Struggle for American Independence (New York: Oxford University Press, 1976), 31.

[4] Fred Anderson Berg, Encyclopedia of Continental Army Units: Battalions, Regiments, and Independent Corps(Harrisburg, PA: Stackpole Books, 1972), 76-77.

[5] David Hackett Fischer, Paul Revere’s Ride (New York: Oxford University Press, 1994), 151.

[6] Galvin, The Minute Men, vii.

[7] Galvin, The Minute Men, 3-5.

[8] Galvin, The Minute Men, 73.

[9] Galvin, The Minute Men, 206.

[10] Martin and Lender, A Respectable Army,

[11] Martin and Lender, A Respectable Army, 46.

[12] Martin and Lender, A Respectable Army, 45.

[13] Martin and Lender, A Respectable Army, 212.

From Muster Roll to Lost Note: The Paper Trail of Edmund Fowler’s Revolutionary War Compensation

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Marc Lee.

At first glance, it is an unremarkable accounting ledger filled with columns of figures and financial calculations. Yet hidden among its entries is the story of a Revolutionary War soldier whose compensation claim continued to circulate through Connecticut’s bureaucracy years after the fighting had ended. The surviving manuscript, together with wartime muster rolls and treasury records, allows us to follow Edmund Fowler’s claim from military service to a replacement for a lost note, revealing how the Revolution’s paperwork could outlive the war itself.[i]

The document at the center of this story is an Invoice of Officers’ and Soldiers’ Notes, Payable June 1783, a manuscript created as Connecticut settled the financial obligations left by the Revolutionary War. Rather than recording the service of a single soldier, the ledger summarizes military notes issued to officers and enlisted men, listing an aggregate amount exceeding £10,700 and bearing a notation that the account was “charged July 9, 1784.” At first glance, it appears to be little more than a routine accounting record.[ii]

Figure 1. Invoice of Officers’ and Soldiers’ Notes, Payable June 1783, showing the original heading and later accounting calculations.

A closer examination tells a different story. The manuscript remained in active use long after it was first prepared. While the principal heading and endorsements were written in one hand, later calculations were added in a different ink and by a different hand, indicating that officials returned to the account years after the notes first became payable.[iii]

Those physical clues reveal an important reality about the Revolution’s aftermath. Paying veterans was not accomplished through a single transaction. Military service had to be verified, financial obligations reconciled, and documentary evidence maintained as claims moved through the state’s accounting system. What appears to be an ordinary ledger therefore preserves part of the administrative machinery that transformed wartime service into recognized financial compensation.

Among the many entries associated with Connecticut’s officers’ and soldiers’ notes is one that allows this broader process to be examined on a human scale. Through a series of surviving military and treasury records, the documentary trail of Revolutionary War veteran Edmund Fowler can be followed from his wartime muster rolls to the postwar administration of his compensation claim, offering a rare glimpse into how one soldier’s service continued to generate paperwork long after the fighting had ended.[iv]

The ledger identifies many officers and enlisted soldiers, but one name stands out because his surviving records extend well beyond this single document. Edmund Fowler appears in a series of Connecticut military records that preserve different stages of his wartime service, allowing his postwar compensation to be traced across several distinct record groups.[v]

Continue reading “From Muster Roll to Lost Note: The Paper Trail of Edmund Fowler’s Revolutionary War Compensation”

“In the Ranks of the Revolution: James Johnston’s War” Part II

Part I

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historians Lori Amos Doss & Jarred Marlowe

Part 2: A Veteran in the Southern Campaign and the Road to Yorktown

In early 1781, after years of nearly continuous service, James Johnston finally set out for home on furlough. It must have been a long-awaited journey. Yet before he could reach his destination, events once again pulled him back into the war.

While passing through Prince Edward County, Virginia, Johnston learned of the difficult situation facing General Nathanael Greene in the South. British forces under Lord Cornwallis were pressing hard, and Greene’s army was in poor condition. Supplies were scarce, clothing was inadequate, and many of the soldiers were inexperienced militia. Previous defeats at Charleston and Camden had weakened the Continental presence in the region, leaving Greene with a force that struggled to match the discipline of British regulars.

Johnston understood the danger. Rather than continue home, he took action. Drawing on his experience in the northern campaigns, he recruited twelve veteran soldiers who had completed their terms of service. Together, they traveled south to join Greene. Their arrival was timely. Greene assigned them as adjutants to officers commanding Virginia militia, where their role was to help bring order and discipline to units that often lacked both.

Time was short. Cornwallis was advancing, and a major confrontation was approaching. Johnston worked to train the militia as best he could, instilling in them the habits and expectations of seasoned soldiers. The results became clear at the Battle of Guilford Court House on March 15, 1781.

Greene arranged his army in three lines. The North Carolina militia formed the first, the Virginia militia the second, and Continental regulars the third. When the British advanced, the North Carolina militia broke quickly, some retreating without firing. The Virginia militia, however, held their ground. They fought with determination and inflicted significant casualties on the advancing British.

Although Greene eventually ordered a withdrawal, the battle came at a high cost for Cornwallis. His army suffered heavy losses, weakening his campaign in the South. Later observers noted the steadiness of the Virginia militia, and some accounts credited Johnston and his fellow veterans with helping prepare them for that moment.

After the battle, Johnston returned home at last, reuniting briefly with his family after years away. But the war was not yet finished, and his rest did not last long. Within days, he learned that Lafayette was now operating in Virginia and facing British forces under William Phillips and Benedict Arnold. Once again, Johnston chose to return to service.

Continue reading ““In the Ranks of the Revolution: James Johnston’s War” Part II”

“Separation Day”

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.

Continue reading ““Separation Day””

Congress Establishes the Board of War and Ordnance

The United States Army traces its birthday back to June 14, 1775—the date the Second Congressional Congress voted to adopt the New England army then encircling the British in Boston.

Almost a year later to the day—June 12, 1776—the Congress voted to establish the Board of war and Ordnance, the precursor to today’s Department of Defense.[1] One could therefore make the argument that June 12, 2026, is the 250th birthday of the department. At the very least, one could directly trace the department’s ancestry back that far.

Congress voted to establish the board in response to pressure from Gen. George Washington, who desperately needed help managing the logistics of feeding, clothing, arming, equipping, and otherwise supplying the army. He spent at least as much time begging (in a dignified but humble way) various colonies for support as he did planning and executing military strategy and tactics. Supply worries were never far from his mind. “The reflection upon my Situation, & that of this Army, produces many an uneasy hour when all around me are wrapped in Sleep . . .” he wrote a confidant.[2]

But because everything about the Continental government was voluntary, that meant colonies—soon to be states—did not have to comply with Washington’s requests, let alone any Congressional resolutions. Colonies chronically undershot troop quotas and financial contributions.

Naivety ran high in those heady, early days of the war. Colonies believed militia, rather than a trained professional army, could somehow win the war. Their “patriotic spirit” would be enough to overcome the discipline and experience of the British army and its hired mercenaries. Even members of Congress, tied more regularly to military affairs through Washington’s correspondence, bought into the idea.

“You think the present army assisted by the militia is sufficient to oppose the force of Great Britain, formidable as it appears on paper,” one of Washington’s key confidents, Gen. Nathaniel Greene, told Congress in early June. He assured them they were “greatly deceived.”[3]

The creation of the Board of War did much to make the scales fall from Congressional eyes. It did so by bringing key members of Congress more directly into the management of the war.

Continue reading “Congress Establishes the Board of War and Ordnance”

“Rev War Revelry” Colonel William Prescott: Heroic Commander of the Battle of Bunker Hill by Donald R. Ryan

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!

ERW Welcomes Ben Powers

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes our newest full-time contributor and historian, Ben Powers. We asked Ben to give our readers some insight into his interest in the American Revolutionary War Era. Get to know Ben below!


1. What inspired you or “hooked” you on wanting to study, write, and learn more about the American Revolutionary Era?

I attended the Bicentennial celebration of the Battle of Lexington as a very young boy, and I was hooked from the get-go. With parades, laying of flowers at memorials, demonstrations of period soldiers, and tours of historic buildings, it was better than Christmas.

2. What is your favorite topic to read about?

I’m a Massachusetts native, so anything about the Revolutionary-era Boston piques my interest immediately.

3. Is there one person or aspect of the war you feel is overshadowed and needs more attention?

Bernardo de Gálvez and the Gulf Coast campaign deserve more attention, although Robert Buccellato & Kartik Krishnaiyer, and Joshua Provan have produced some very good recent scholarship on the Florida campaigns.     

4. Favorite battlefield or historic site of the era?

Minuteman National Historical Park and Battle Road have a special place in my heart, but my favorite historic site is the Long Room at Fraunces Tavern.

5. Favorite person from the era?

Benjamin Lincoln. He was no Henry Knox or Nathaniel Greene, but he didn’t try to be. He did his duty to the best of his ability.

6. Favorite book about the American Revolutionary War era? 

I’ve changed my mind five times trying to answer this question. I finally asked myself: if I could keep only one book on the subject from my library, I would pick George Washington’s Generals and Opponents: Their Exploits and Leadership, edited by George Athan Billias. Since that’s an anthology of essays, some might accuse me of cheating, but I stand by my choice!

The Burning of “Madam Souchong” and the Women of Providence Who Burned Her

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.

Continue reading “The Burning of “Madam Souchong” and the Women of Providence Who Burned Her”

That Chess Story

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.

Continue reading “That Chess Story”

“In the Ranks of the Revolution: James Johnston’s War”

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historians Lori Amos Doss & Jarred A. Marlowe, bios follow part one.

Part 1: From Charlotte County to Washington’s Guard

James Johnston was born in Charlotte County, Virginia, around 1756, though no exact record of his birth has survived. Like many Revolutionary War soldiers, much of his early life remains in shadow. Even the identities of his parents are uncertain, despite Johnston referring to them in later accounts. What we do know begins in November 1776, when he made the decision to leave home and enlist in the Continental Army for a three-year term.

He joined the 14th Virginia Regiment under Colonel Charles Lewis and soon marched north to join George Washington’s army at Morristown, New Jersey. At that stage of the war, the Continental Army was still finding its footing. Enlistments were short, supplies were inconsistent, and discipline varied widely from unit to unit. Yet within a matter of months, Johnston distinguished himself.

On May 1, 1777, he was selected for the Commander in Chief’s Guard, an elite corps formed to protect Washington personally, as well as the army’s funds and official documents. This was one of the most trusted assignments in the army. Officers were instructed to select men known for their honesty, sobriety, and reliability. Washington also had a preference for appearance, requesting soldiers who were well built, neat, and presentable. Johnston’s selection tells us a great deal about how he was viewed by those who knew him. He was not simply capable. He was dependable.

Continue reading ““In the Ranks of the Revolution: James Johnston’s War””