Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Eric Wiser
On August 4, 1735 printer John Peter Zenger was acquitted of seditious libel in a dramatic trial before a crowded courtroom in New York’s City Hall. Zenger languished nine months in jail before his acquittal for “printing and publishing a false, scandalous and seditious libel, in which His Excellency the Governor of this Province, who is the King’s immediate representative…” Zenger’s odds were long given New York Supreme Court’s disbarment of his original attorneys in the pre-trial stage. Aggrieved Royal Gov. William Cosby had a legitimate claim under English Common Law that he was seditiously libeled.[1]
Zenger’s fame as an early martyr of freedom of the press is well known. In terms of America’s founding, it’s difficult to imagine independence without the dissemination of ideas through pamphlets and newspapers. Benjamin Franklin, a printer himself whose own brother James was imprisoned by authorities in Massachusetts a decade before Zenger, commented on freedom of the press: “This sacred Privilege is so essential to free Governments, that the Security of Property, and the Freedom of Speech always go together; and in those wretched Countries where a Man cannot call his Tongue his own, he can scarce call any Thing else his own.”[2]
Despite being thirty-years before the Stamp Act of 1765, the Zenger trial and political conditions surrounding it have seedlings sprouting growth in the Revolution. The substance of these can be traced to the colonial grievances inspired by acts of Parliament which in turn became articulated in the Declaration of Independence. Factionalism between supporters of Crown representatives and those opposed was present in the Zenger episode in nascent form. The rhetoric expressed by Zenger’s attorneys is indistinguishable from the much of the lofty language in the Revolution less “independence.”
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back Jeffrey Collin Wilford For Part I, click here.
General Benedict Arnold’s Betrayal
On the morning of September 21, 1780, while Captain John Van Dyk, only recently freed from the prison ship Jersey, was guarding West Point as part of Colonel John Lamb’s artillery unit, the HMS Vulture arrived at Haverstraw Bay and anchored just off Teller’s Point. Two men pressing apples at a cider mill on the shore became alarmed at the presence of a British warship on the river north of the “neutral ground,” and a barge disembarking from it filled with Redcoats. Not knowing their intent, both decided to take matters into their own hands and opened fire on the soldiers. John “Rifle Jack” Peterson, a veteran of the Battle of Saratoga, received his nickname due to his superior marksmanship. The other, Moses Sherwood was just 19 years old and a friend of Jack Peterson. Both were enlisted in the Westchester County militia. Their relationship was very close as Rifle Jack had held Sherwood’s father in his arms as he died at Saratoga three years earlier.
Croton (Teller’s) Point today – (Wilford)
Several of their shots hit their mark, wounding soldiers and prompting the barge to return to the Vulture which opened fire with a barrage of grapeshot on the two men as they crouched behind rocks. This signaled to the pair that the ship was within cannon range and they quickly made their way in the darkness to Fort Lafayette ten miles to the north to secure a cannon from the officer in charge, Colonel James Livingston.
Cannon that fired on the Vulture Peekskill Museum (Wilford)
At Peterson and Sherwood worked with several other soldiers to lug the 4-pounder back to the point while, unbeknownst to them, André slipped away from the Vulture. He made his way from the Vulture to shore, at around midnight, with Loyalist Joshua Hett Smith who had been instructed to gather him from the ship. His destination was a clandestine meeting on the river bank with American General Benedict Arnold, the famous war hero of Saratoga who had been plotting for months to turn against the cause of American independence. What was clear, by André’s account, was that this meeting was to be a fairly quick round-trip between the Vulture and shore under cover of darkness.
Instead, an unraveling of the circumstances dictated that he shed all previous warnings from British General Sir Henry Clinton to stay dressed in his regimental uniform, avoid enemy checkpoints, and not possess any incriminating papers. André admitted this to Clinton in a letter written after his capture and dated September 29, 1780 stating, “The Events of coming within an Enemys posts and of Changing my dress which led me to my present Situation were contrary to my own Intentions as they were to your Orders.” This would force him to become, in his own words, “involuntarily an impostor.”
As negotiations on the riverbank dragged on, likely due to Arnold’s negotiations around rank and compensation, daybreak drew near. Fearing discovery, and clearly against André’s original plan, they moved their talks to the home of Smith, which overlooked the river and the Vulture at anchor. During the meeting at Smith’s house, Arnold eventually handed over the defensive plans of the Continental Army’s citadel, West Point, and the minutes from General George Washington’s September 6th War Council meeting that created a vulnerability for the Americans that could have proved catastrophic.
It is easy to understand why West Point was so significant to the British. It was crucial, not just as a military installation situated on the banks of the Hudson between New England and the Southern Colonies, but as a symbol of American strength and resolve. Perched on the high ground overlooking the Hudson, West Point had been there to thwart British attempts to dominate the 300-mile-long river which would have allowed them to effectively cut off the rebels of New England from the rest of the colonies. Losing West Point would have taken an important strategic foothold away from the Americans. The potential of losing General Washington in the process would have also dealt a severely damaging blow to the American cause, if not ending the war altogether.
While the Arnold and André negotiations were taking place, a contingent of men, along with Peterson and Sherwood, had dragged the 4-pounder to Teller’s Point into position on the riverbank within range of the Vulture.
Early in the morning, awakened by cannon fire, the conspirators at Smith’s house could see the Americans in the distance opening fire on the ship. Though he did not immediately know it, this would permanently separate André from his only means of a safe escape. Hit several times and stranded in the middle of the Hudson by a slack tide and unfavorable winds, the Vulture endured the cannon fire but eventually cut her cables to drift with the currents south to Dobbs Ferry.
As a result of the retreat of the Vulture, an alternative plan was devised to get André back to the British lines. On the morning of the 22nd, in disguise and with a pass written by Arnold to travel unmolested behind American lines under the alias John Anderson, he and Smith began the overland trek back to British-occupied New York City. Arnold returned to his home at West Point. What was clear from André’s later testimony was that he felt like this change of plan made him a victim of circumstance saying he “thought it was settled that in the way I came I was also to return.”
What were the motivations for the thirty-nine-year-old hero of Saratoga, who had risen through the military ranks to become one of Washington’s most effective field generals, to give up not only West Point, but his reputation in history? Much has been written, but what is known is that he had been living a life well beyond his means. His wife Peggy Shippen, half his age and from a prominent Philadelphia Loyalist merchant family, had a taste for luxury. To woo the 19-year-old, Arnold openly lived a life of excess while in Philadelphia which turned more than a few heads, wondering if he had secretly been trading with the British.
Benedict Arnold was also known for his self-assured nature and temper. Infighting within certain circles of the military, and his discovery that several junior officers had received promotions ahead of him, provided him even more motivation to turn. Arnold felt the military did not display the respect that was due a war hero and this sentiment was on display in a letter to Washington on May 5, 1779. “Having made every sacrifice of fortune and blood, and become a cripple in the service of my country, I little expected to meet the ungrateful returns I have received of my countrymen.” Perhaps the influence placed upon him by his relationship with Peggy due to her father’s position, and his criticism of the American cause added more weight to his self-imposed need to betray his country. Consequently, he began to develop a plan to turn over West Point to British General Sir Henry Clinton, with Major John André as the British intermediary.
The second day treading enemy soil was rather uneventful as André and Smith carefully made their way south to the original King’s Ferry which crossed the Hudson between Stony Point and Verplanck, the site of the former Fort Lafayette. The crossing was a nerve-wracking affair for André as this was the main ferry crossing for all Continental troops and supplies just outside of the watchful eye of the British forces in New York City 45 miles to the south. Following the Crom-Pond Road, the journey was slow and deliberate, befitting a spy and his Loyalist guide. As nightfall approached, they bedded down at a farmhouse before continuing their journey early the next morning.
Isaac Underhill House – Where André ate his last breakfast (Wilford)
The pair continued to make their way along the Croton River until reaching the southernmost lines of the Continental Army where Smith left André just after finishing their breakfast at the Isaac Underhill house. By the time André had reached Tarrytown, New York, by way of the Albany Post Road, a road he had been told to avoid, his luck had run out. Isaac Underhill House – Where André ate his last breakfast (Wilford)
At 9 o’clock on the morning of September 23, 1780, André was stopped by three militiamen at Clark’s Kill, a stream that today marks the boundary between Sleepy Hollow and Tarrytown, New York. According to André, he “was taken by three Volunteers who not Satisfied with my pass riffled me and finding papers Made me a prisoner.” Isaac Van Wart, John Paulding, and David Williams would go on to be considered heroes by most, but certainly not by all. One of their leading detractors was the person George Washington entrusted with returning André to West Point and ultimately Tappan for trial, Major Benjamin Tallmadge. Tallmadge was Washington’s chief intelligence officer and he believed the three militiamen were “of that class of person who passed between both armies.” He felt they lacked the very character he would end up heaping upon André.
André Capture Site (Wilford)
While the circumstances surrounding Major John André’s capture unfolded in Tarrytown, General Arnold, aware that his treacherous plot had been uncovered, and leaving behind his baby and a hysterically distraught Peggy Shippen, raced to avoid capture and meet up with the HMS Vulture. Upon his return from a meeting with French General Rochambeau at Hartford Connecticut, Washington, unaware of any involvement by Shippen, allowed her to return to her family in Philadelphia, perhaps letting go of an important bargaining chip in the process. It would later be learned that she might have been complicit in her husband’s treason. While she openly denied it, an admission from Theodosia Burr, Aaron Burr’s wife, that she admitted to her involvement as well as a £500 annual pension from King George III would suggest this.
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Eric Olsen. Eric is a historian with the National Park Service at Morristown National Historical Park. Click here for more information about the site.
Years ago, while I was looking at a list of disabled Revolutionary War veterans from Rhode Island I noticed some curious things. The list didn’t provide much information. It just gave the name and age of the veteran, their disability and how they were injured. At first, I was excited because I found a couple of guys who were wounded at the battle of Springfield in June 1780. But then I noticed a number of other men whose information seemed a little odd.
Several men were listed as having lost toes. Those same men had all lost their toes at a place called Oswego. Their wounds had all occurred in February 1783. A couple of the men even had the same unusual name of “Prince.” For me this raised several questions which required more research.
Fort Ontario at Oswego in 1759
Where in the World is Oswego?
It turns out Oswego is a town in New York state on the eastern shore of Lake Ontario where it connects with the Oswego River. The name “Oswego” comes from the Iroquois word meaning “pouring out place” which is appropriate since it is where the Oswego River flows out into Lake Ontario. Heading inland, the Oswego River connects with the Oneida River which flows out of Oneida Lake.
In the 18th century lakes and rivers were the interstate highways of the day. Boats traveling on water could travel faster and carry heavier loads than wagons could on dirt roads. As a result, settlements developed along waterways and forts were built at strategic points where waterways connected.
The British originally established Oswego as a trading post on the northwest side of the mouth of the Oswego River. It was first fortified in 1727 and was known as the Fort of the Six Nations or Fort Oswego. By 1755 Fort Ontario was built on the opposite side of the river to bolster the area’s defenses during the French and Indian War. That fort was destroyed by the French in 1756 and rebuilt by the British in 1759. During the Revolutionary War, the fort was the starting point for St. Leger’s march against Fort Stanwix in 1777. Later the fort was abandoned by the British and destroyed by the Americans in 1778. The British returned and rebuilt the fort in 1782.
Reverend John Gano served as a pastor of a Baptist Church in New York City before the Revolution. When the British occupied the city, his congregation split and dispersed. Although he resisted attempts to recruit him as a chaplain, the minister accepted an invitation to preach to a Continental regiment on Sundays until the Royal Navy cut him off from Manhattan. Recalled Gano, “I was obliged therefore, to retire, precipitately, to our camp.”[1] The preacher would become a chaplain after all. Gano joined Colonel Charles Webb’s Connecticut Regiment and followed it.
Gano stayed with the army, was there during the battles in New York and mistakenly found himself in front of his regiment at White Plains. He remained with the unit until enlistments expired at the beginning of 1777. The minister pledged to rejoin if Webb and his officers raised a new regiment, but instead found himself at Fort Montgomery on the Hudson, eventually succumbing to arguments from General James Clinton and Colonel “Dubosque” to join the men stationed there as a chaplain. (This was probably Colonel Lewis Dubois of the 5th New York.) He remained there until Sir Henry Clinton launched his autumn attack into the Hudson Highlands to support General Burgoyne’s campaign to Albany. Allowing for the uncertainties and errors of first-hand experiences and perspectives, the happenstance-chaplain provided an excellent first-hand account of the battles for Fort Montgomery and Fort Clinton on October 6, 1777.
“We had, both in Fort Montgomery, and Fort Clinton, but about seven hundred men. We had been taught to believe, that we should be reinforced, in time of danger, from the neighbouring militia; but they were, at this time, very inactive. We head of the approach of the enemy, and that they were about a mile and a half from Fort Clinton. That fort sent out a small detachment, which was immediately driven back. The British army surrounded both our forts, and commenced universal firing. I was walking on the breastwork, viewing their approach, but was obliged to quit this station, as the musquet balls frequently passed me. I observed the enemy, marching up a little hollow, that the might be secured from our firing, till they came within eighty yards of us. Our breast-work, immediately before them, was not more than waist-band high, and we had but a few men. The enemy, kept up a heavy firing, till our men gave them a well directed fire, which affected them very sensibly. Just at this time, we had a reinforcement from a redoubt, next to us, which obliged the enemy to withdraw. I walked to an eminence, where I had a good prospect, and saw the enemy advancing toward our gate. This gate, faced Fort Clinton, and Captain Moody, who commanded a piece of artillery at that fort, seeing our desperate situation, gave the enemy a charge of grape-shot, which threw them into great confusion. Moody repeated his charge, which entirely dispersed them for that time.
About sun-set, the enemy sent a couple of flags, into each of our forts, demanding an immediate surrender, or we should all be put to the sword. General George Clinton, who commanded Fort Montgomery, returned for answer, that the latter was preferable to the former, and that he should not surrender the fort. General Hames Clinton, who commanded in Fort Clinton, answered the demand in the same manner. A few minutes after the flags had returned, the enemy commenced a very heavy firing, which was answered by our army. The dusk of the evening, together with the smoke, and the rushing in of the enemy, made it impossible for us to distinguish friend, from foe. This confusion, have us an opportunity of escaping, through the enemy, over the breastwork. Many escaped to the water’s side and got on board a scow, and pushed off.”[2]
In his recent history of the Saratoga Campaign, Kevin Weddle cites General Clinton’s estimate of 350 American casualties: 70 killed, 40 wounded, and 240 captured, roughly half of the combined garrison of both forts. (Weddle estimates the American garrison at 700, not the 800 Gano believed). British losses amounted to forty killed and 150 wounded out of 2,150 in the assaulting forces.[3]
Gano spent the remainder of his service in the northeast, accompanying the men during General Sullivan’s campaign against the Iroquois, but otherwise spending the time in encampents. He finally returned to New York and reoccupied his house after war: “My house needed some repairs, and wanted some new furniture; for the enemy plundered a great many articles.”[4] After the war, the minister rebuilt his congregation in New York before relocating to Kentucky, where he died in 1804.
[1]Biographical Memoirs of the Late Rev. John Gano (New York: Printed by Southwick and Hardcastle for John Tiebout, 1806), 93.
There are arguably many moments along the road towards war with England that greatly shaped that road’s trajectory. Perhaps among the top contenders on that list would be the Boston Tea Party. Join historian Benjamin Carp and ERW’s Dan Welch as we dig in with the author of one of the best books on that pivotal moment. Dr. Benjamin L. Carp is the author of The Great New York Fire of 1776: A Lost Story of the American Revolution, and Defiance of the Patriots: The Boston Tea Party and the Making of America (2010), which won the triennial Society of the Cincinnati Cox Book Prize in 2013; and Rebels Rising: Cities and the American Revolution (2007). His book, Defiance of the Patriots, will be the focus of Sunday’s book chat.
With Richard D. Brown, he co-edited Major Problems in the Era of the American Revolution, 1760-1791: Documents and Essays, 3rd ed. (2014). He has written about nationalism, firefighters, Benjamin Franklin, and Quaker merchants in Charleston. He has also written for Colonial Williamsburg, the Wall Street Journal and the Washington Post. He previously taught at the University of Edinburgh and Tufts University. He was born and raised in New York State and each of his parents earned two CUNY degrees. See you Sunday at 7 p.m. EDT on Emerging Revolutionary War’s Facebook page!
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes a guest post from historian Keith J. Muchowski. Keith is a librarian and professor at New York City College of Technology (CUNY) in Brooklyn. He blogs at thestrawfoot.com.
The plaque dedicated King Juan Carlos I in June 1976 today tucked in a corner of the visitor center. Courtesy Author
King Juan Carlos I arrived in Brooklyn’s Fort Greene Park on Saturday June 5, 1976 to great fanfare. The thirty-eight-year-old monarch had ascended to the Spanish throne just seven months previously, two days after the death of Francisco Franco. The new leader was determined to reform his nation after three and a half decades of strongman rule. Juan Carlos I’s ancestor, King Carlos III, had helped the colonists achieved their independence nearly two centuries previously with his supply of money, matériel, and men. Many of those Spaniards made the ultimate sacrifice; well over one hundred of them alone perished in British prison ships moored off Brooklyn Wallabout Bay during the war.[i] Now King Juan Carlos I was in the outer borough to recognize them, dedicate a tablet to his fallen countrymen, and help his American hosts celebrate the bicentennial of their independence. The entombed Spaniards were among the over 11,500 men commemorated by the Prison Ship Martyrs Monument. The king’s visit in the mid-1970s was the latest in a series of public commemorations of the prison ship dead dating back over a century and a half. Some of the institutions that did so much to recognize the martyrs, such as the Society of St. Tammany, are today long gone. Others however very much remain. The Society of Old Brooklynites, a civic organization founded in 1880 when Brooklyn was still an independent municipality, has been holding events since the late nineteenth century.
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Christopher of The British-American Historian blog.
Almost two years after debating a joint French-American assailment of Lord Cornwallis’ precarious position in Yorktown, Virginia over Washington’s grand plan to recapture New York long after being swept from the city and its environs as independence was officially declared in 1776, the implacable Washington prepared to reenter New York in triumph.
Eight years after making New York the center of the British war effort in the American Revolution, the massive garrison was greatly reduced and preparing for its final retirement from the new nation. The new commander in chief of North America, Sir Guy Carleton, arrived in New York on May 5, 1782[1] to relieve Sir Henry Clinton. Carleton won accolades for holding Quebec City when the Continental Army struck during a late night blizzard, an accomplishment that was all the more vaunted now that the British were losing territory that did not include Canada. Carleton lost no time in notifying Washington of his arrival in an affable letter sent on May 7th, 1782 in which Carleton wrote “if the like pacific disposition should prevail in this country, both my inclination and duty will lead me to meet it with the most zealous concurrence”[2].
A notable disruption in the growing amity was the unresolved Asgill Affair. Exasperated with wanton assailments of loyalists in New Jersey, a prominent rebel militia commander named Joshua Huddy was plucked from the provost in New York by an American member of the Associated Loyalists[3]. The Associated Loyalists were presided over by William Franklin, the loyalist son of Benjamin who had endured arduous captivity before being exchanged[4]. In response to the wanton execution of Joshua Huddy, Washington ordered a British officer to await reprise. Charles Asgill was selected, but pleas from the French along with Washington’s honorable disposition prevailed and the captain was spared[5].
The city and Long Island were swarming with thousands of loyal “Refugees” who had fled from every rebellious colony to seek the king’s protection. Ranging from itinerant tenant farmers to some of the largest landlords in America such as Beverly Robinson and Frederick Philipse, Carleton’s task of evacuating the troops could not be fulfilled until such persons were safely resettled in the empire. While many of the men joined provincial regiments that saw combat in the south (playing a pivotal role defending Savannah and being routed at Kings Mountain) and performed prodigious woodcutting on Lloyd Neck for the insatiable demand for firewood[6], flocks of women and children crowded the city. A subset of the refugees were former slaves who had flocked to the British cause for the promise of freedom under Dunmore’s Proclamation and the Philipsburg Proclamation, a promise Washington would vigorously contest in negotiations.
To usher in the month of May, Emerging Revolutionary War returns to the French and Indian War for a discussion with author and historian Billy Griffith on his book, “The Battle of Lake George: England’s FirstTriumph in the French and Indian War.
On September 8, 1755, two armies clashed along the southern shore of Lake George in New York’s Adirondack Mountains. The battle between William Johnson’s force of colonial provincials and Mohawk allies and Baron de Dieskau’s French and Native American army would decide who possessed the lower part of the strategic water highway system that connected New York City with Quebec.
Join ERW historian Billy Griffith for a discussion about this crucial event in the early stages of the French and Indian War that can be considered one of the first true “American” victories against professional foreign troops. We look forward to you joining us, at 7 p.m. EDT on our Facebook page for the next historian happy hour.
On Sunday, January 23, Emerging Revolutionary War will journey, virtually, into the heart of the Mohawk Valley of New York in a discussion with Brian Mack of the Fort Plain Museum and Historical Park.
Established in 1961 the museum and park now encompasses over 75 acres and includes the site of Fort Plain/Fort Rensselaer, the foundation of a Revolutionary era bridge, the Fort Rensselaer Redoubt and works constructed by British forces, along with sites of colonial farmsteads, industry, and settlement. The museum also covers a wide era of the history of the area.
Mack lives out his passion for his family & for history in everything he does. A family vacation always includes a stop to a historic site or two. He is involved with the Fort Plain Museum & Historical Park as a member of their Board of Trustees, a Board member with The Stone Arabia Preservation & Battlefield, and a Board Member with The Mohawk Country Association. Most recently, he joined the Board with the Dr. Joseph Warren Foundation.
We look forward to a great discussion about the American Revolution in the Mohawk Valley of New York with Brian this Sunday, at 7 p.m. on Emerging Revolutionary War’s Facebook page.
With the turkey eaten, Black Friday shopping completed, and a slate of American football watched, and prior to cyber Monday beginning, Emerging Revolutionary War invites you to tune in for a historian happy hour. This week “Rev War Revelry” returns to the French and Indian War and welcomes as guests Lake George Battlefield Park Alliance President John DiNuzzi and the Board of Trustee Member Lyn Hohmann.
The discussion will entail their organizations effort to preserve and interpret one of the America’s most historical places and hallowed ground.
“The Lake George Battlefield Park was the scene of major battles during the French and Indian War and American Revolutionary War, and the home of Fort George, a key anchor of first British and then American military strategies in those world-changing conflicts. Enveloped by the natural beauty of the Adirondack Mountains in the town of Lake George, the site’s history reflects its prominence as part of the crucial Hudson River-Lake George-Lake Champlain corridor in the mid-to-late 18th Century.”
The Lake George Battlefield Park Alliance’s effort to commemorate the ground is so invaluable to telling the overall story. Joining the two guest historians and preservationists will be ERW historian Billy Griffith who is an author on a book with the HistoryPress on the actions around Lake George.
Grab that last remaining beer, tune in to our Facebook page this Sunday, at 7 p.m. EDT, and hear the amazing work being done in New York. How else would you want to round out the holiday weekend?
Emerging Revolutionary War Era 