Canadian Invasion: The Occupation of Montreal

In the fall of 1775, 250 years ago, the American Revolutionaries invaded Canada. It was hoped that a 14th colony could be added to the effort. Members of the Continental Congress felt that Canada’s majority French Catholic population was unhappy with British rule, and would welcome the chance to join them. Conquering Canada would also remove the potential for a British invasion from the north.

General Richard Montgomery led forces from New York State north, and by November 13 captured Montreal. He and most of his troops departed for Quebec on November 28, where they joined forces with General Benedict Arnold to attack that city. General David Wooster remained in command at Montreal.

The Chateau Ramezay in the center of the town became headquarters for the occupying Continental Army. In the meantime American forces were defeated at Quebec on December 31, with General Montgomery killed.

Chateau Ramzey. Author Photo.


By spring, Montreal was under the command of Colonel Moses Hazen, a resident of the Province of Quebec. He tried to raise troops for the Continental army, but only about 500 joined his Canadian Regiment.

With about 10,000 people, Montreal was the fifth largest city in North America. While residents initially welcomed the Americans, they soon saw them as invaders and occupiers. Uncertainty about the economy, American intentions, and the defeat at Quebec all caused Canadians to gradually lose support for the Americans. For the Continental troops stationed here that winter, it must have been a dreary, cold, and depressing experience.


View of Montreal and its Walls in 1760. Image Source: Pictorial Field-Book of the American Revolution by Benson Lossing (1860).

On April 29, 1776 a delegation from the Continental Congress arrived, which included Benjamin Franklin, Samuel Chase, Charles Carroll, and Carroll’s cousin, John Carroll, Catholic priest. It was hoped that a priest would give the American cause more legitimacy with the Canadians. Upon arriving, General Arnold had his troops salute the Congressional delegation.

Charles Carroll wrote, “On our landing, we were welcomed by General Arnold in the most courteous and friendly manner and conducted to the headquarters where a society of women and gentlemen of distinction had assembled. As we were on our way from our landing site to the General’s house, the cannon of the citadel thundered in our honour as commissioners of the Congress.”

It was all a failure. The Canadians were unwilling to throw off British rule, which guaranteed religious freedom and protection of their language and culture. On May 11, 1776, Franklin departed, saying it would have been easier if the Americans had tried to buy Canada than invade it.

Arnold and his troops occupied Montreal until June 15, when British forces advancing from Québec forced their evacuation. For seven months, the largest town in Canada was under American military occupation.

Today one of the few reminders of the American occupation is the Chateau Ramezay, built in 1705. It had been the Governor’s mansion during British rule and was the seat of Government until 1849. It is now a museum. Also visible are the old stone walls that surrounded the city. These fortifications defended the town in 1763 during the French and Indian War, and again in 1775 and 1776.

Eighteenth century fortifications at Montreal. Author Photo.

“Void of Common Sense” George Washington and Guy Fawkes Day, 1775

In November 1775, as the American colonies were deep in rebellion against Britain, General George Washington faced not only the British army but also the task of shaping a new American identity. One revealing moment came on November 5, 1775, when Washington, then commander-in-chief of the Continental Army, issued an order forbidding his soldiers from celebrating Guy Fawkes Day, also known as Pope’s Day in colonial New England. This event—often overlooked in histories of the Revolution—offers insight into Washington’s leadership, his moral sensibilities, and his vision for the cause of American independence.

Guy Fawkes Night at Windsor Castle, 1775

Guy Fawkes Day had long been an English and colonial holiday commemorating the failed Gunpowder Plot of 1605, when Catholic conspirator Guy Fawkes attempted to blow up Parliament and assassinate King James I. In Protestant England and its colonies, November 5 became a day of noisy anti-Catholic demonstrations, bonfires, and the burning of effigies of the Pope and Fawkes. In Boston and other colonial towns, rival street gangs—often from the North and South Ends—would parade effigies, fight, and engage in destructive celebrations. It was, in short, a day of raucous Protestant triumphalism and sectarian hatred.

By 1775, however, the American Revolution had changed the stakes. The Continental Army, drawn from thirteen diverse colonies, was fighting not merely as British subjects in revolt but as Americans united against tyranny. Washington recognized that this unity could not rest on religious prejudice. Moreover, the colonies were seeking crucial support from Catholic France and from Catholic Canadians in Quebec. Anti-Catholic displays risked alienating potential allies. Thus, on November 5, 1775, Washington issued a General Order that firmly condemned the planned festivities.

John Fitzgerald, an Irish Catholic immigrated to Alexandria in 1773. He became good friends with Washington and like many other Catholics, provided great service to Washington. For a time he served as an aide-de-camp to Washington.

Washington’s order read, in part, that “at such a juncture, and in such circumstances, to be insulting their religion is so monstrous, as not to be suffered or excused.” He called on his troops to remember that “we are contending for the rights of mankind” and that the cause required dignity and respect for all faiths. The general’s tone combined moral rebuke with strategic foresight. By discouraging Pope’s Day, he sought to replace narrow sectarian loyalties with a broader, inclusive patriotism.

This moment also reflects Washington’s character and leadership style. He understood the importance of discipline and order in an army composed largely of volunteers. The elimination of destructive, drunken celebrations helped reinforce his insistence on professionalism. But more importantly, Washington saw the American cause as grounded in universal principles of liberty and justice—principles incompatible with the kind of bigotry Pope’s Day embodied.

In retrospect, Washington’s handling of Guy Fawkes Day in 1775 stands as an early statement of religious tolerance in American political life. His decision to forbid anti-Catholic celebrations prefigured later American commitments to freedom of conscience and the separation of church and state. What might have seemed a minor disciplinary order was, in fact, a symbolic act of leadership: it transformed an old English custom of division into an American lesson in unity. Through it, Washington began to shape not just an army, but a nation.

250 Years Ago Today? The Myth and Mystery of the Mecklenburg Declaration

In the early days of American independence, few tales are as intriguing—or as controversial—as the story of the Mecklenburg Declaration of Independence. Allegedly signed on May 20, 1775, over a year before the more famous Declaration in Philadelphia, this document claimed that citizens of Mecklenburg County, North Carolina, boldly severed ties with the British crown. It’s a story of early patriotism, defiance, and pride—but also one mired in historical uncertainty.

According to legend, upon hearing news of the battles at Lexington and Concord, local leaders in Mecklenburg County convened an emergency meeting and drafted a declaration proclaiming themselves “free and independent.” The idea that North Carolina may have led the way in declaring independence is a point of pride for many in the state. In fact, May 20, 1775, the supposed date of the declaration, is emblazoned on the North Carolina state flag and seal.

Yet for all its emotional and symbolic power, the Mecklenburg Declaration has a major problem: there’s no evidence it ever existed.

No original copy has survived. In fact, the first known reference to the document didn’t surface until 1819, more than 40 years after the supposed event. That version was reconstructed from memory by elderly men who claimed to have seen or signed it in their youth. These recollections were written down decades after the fact, raising serious doubts about their reliability.

Most historians today believe the Mecklenburg Declaration is a misremembered version of the “Mecklenburg Resolves,” a very real and much better-documented set of statements issued on May 31, 1775. These resolves denounced British authority and called for local governance, but they stopped short of declaring full independence.

Despite the lack of hard evidence, the legend of the Mecklenburg Declaration persisted, particularly in North Carolina. Even Thomas Jefferson, the principal author of the national Declaration of Independence, was drawn into the controversy when some accused him of borrowing from the Mecklenburg document—an accusation he vigorously denied.

Today, the Mecklenburg Declaration stands as a symbol, if not a historical document: a reminder of the spirit of independence, the complexities of memory, and the way legends can shape our understanding of the past. Whether or not it was truly the first declaration of independence, it remains a proud part of North Carolina’s revolutionary heritage.

The Untold Story of America’s First Abolitionist Society – 250th Anniversary of the Society for the Relief of Free Negroes Unlawfully Held in Bondage

As we approach the 250th anniversary of Lexington and Concord, on April 14, 2025 another 250th anniversary is taking place but one that is much overlooked. When we think about the fight to end slavery in the United States, names like Frederick Douglass, Harriet Tubman, and William Lloyd Garrison often come to mind. But America’s organized abolitionist movement actually began decades earlier—with a quiet but powerful group of reformers in Philadelphia.

Historic marker located near the intersection of Front and Ionic Streets in the “old city” section of Philadelphia. Close to the original location of Tun Tavern.

In 1775 the American colonies were on the verge of war with Great Britain, calling for freedom and independence. But even as they demanded liberty, many Americans—including some of the nation’s founders—continued to own slaves. Amid this contradiction, a small group of Philadelphia Quakers stepped up to challenge the injustice of slavery. On April 14, 1775 in Philadelphia, they formed what would become the first formal abolitionist organization in America, the Society for the Relief of Free Negroes Unlawfully Held in Bondage.

The name was long, but its mission was clear. This group was determined to help free Black people who were illegally enslaved or kidnapped into bondage. Their founding was quiet, overshadowed by the Revolutionary War, but it planted the seeds of a movement that would eventually reshape the nation.

At the heart of the Society were the Quakers (17 of the original 24 members were Quakers) formally known as the Religious Society of Friends. Quakers believed deeply in the equality of all people and had long spoken out against slavery. Many had already freed the people they once enslaved, and by the mid-1700s, anti-slavery had become central to their faith.

So in April 1775, a group of these Quakers, joined by a few like-minded allies, came together to create the Society. Their initial goal was modest but critical: to protect the rights of free Black people and prevent them from being illegally sold into slavery. This was not uncommon at the time, especially in cities like Philadelphia where Black communities—both free and slave—lived side by side. However, the outbreak of war later that year put much of the Society’s early work on hold. But their mission didn’t die.

After the war, in 1784, the Society was revived with renewed energy and purpose. It was renamed the Pennsylvania Society for Promoting the Abolition of Slavery and the Relief of Free Negroes Unlawfully Held in Bondage—still a mouthful, but a more expansive vision. Benjamin Franklin, one of America’s most celebrated founding fathers, became the Society’s president in 1787. Franklin had once owned slaves himself, but his views evolved over time. By the end of his life, he was a vocal critic of slavery and used his influence to support the Society’s goals.

This time, they weren’t just focused on defending free Black people—they were actively working to end slavery altogether. Their efforts were both legal and educational. The Society hired lawyers to defend kidnapped individuals, lobbied lawmakers, and even began promoting schools for Black children.

The Society’s work helped inspire real change. Pennsylvania became the first state to pass a gradual abolition law in 1780, a huge step forward. While the Society didn’t write the law, many of its members pushed hard for its passage and later worked to ensure it was enforced.

Still, the road was far from easy. The Society operated in a world where slavery was deeply entrenched—not just economically, but socially and politically. In the South, slavery was expanding. Even in the North, racism was widespread, and support for abolition was often lukewarm.

Despite these challenges, the Society’s model paved the way for the much larger abolitionist movements of the 19th century. It showed that legal advocacy, public education, and grassroots organizing could make a difference. It also helped define Philadelphia as a hub of anti-slavery activism that would later become home to figures like Frederick Douglass and Sojourner Truth.

On this date…The Jay Treaty

On this date in history…

On November 19, 1794, John Jay, representing George Washington’s administration, affixed his signature to a document bearing his name in history. The Jay Treaty. Although the official name of the pact was “The Treaty of Amity, Commerce, and Navigation, Between His Britannic Majesty and the United States of America.”

The treaty’s aim was to resolve outstanding issues from the conclusion of the American Revolutionary War and facilitate economic trade. Although some of the clauses were not fulfilled completely and another war, the War of 1812, erupted because of it, the treaty did serve a purpose. The agreement ushered in a decade of trade between the two countries and gave the fledgling nation a chance to gain footing, a major concern for George Washington, as first president. The treaty also cemented the promise that Great Britain would vacate the forts in the Northwest Territory and agreed to arbitration on the boundary between Canada and the United States and the pre-American Revolutionary War debt.

Yet, the treaty was divisive. Even Jay remarked that he could find his way in the dead of night by the illumination of his own effigy. The treaty angered the French as that country was amid its revolutionary throes, and bitterly divided the nation. Out of it came the separation into two political parties, the Federalists, who supported the treaty, and the Democratic-Republicans who stood opposed to it.

The treaty was ratified by the Senate on June 24, 1795, with an exact two-thirds majority, 20 to 10 along with being passed by William Pitt the Younger, prime minister of Great Britain and his government, and took effect on February 29, 1796.

Historian Joseph Ellis wrote that the Jay Treaty was “a shrewd bargain for the United States” and “a precocious preview of the Monroe Doctrine.” As one of Washington’s most fervent wishes, the treaty “postponed war with England until America was economically and politically more capable of fighting one.”

Guest Book Review: Thomas Jefferson and the Virginia Statute for Religious Freedom: Faith & Liberty in Fredericksburg 

Among America’s Founding Fathers, Thomas Jefferson is among the most well-known. Author of the Declaration of Independence, Governor of Virginia, Minister to France, and the third President of the United States, Jefferson’s public career is familiar to many Americans. Of his many accomplishments, his authorship of the Statute of Virginia for Religious Freedom is perhaps less well-known among the public, but was one of which he was supremely proud. In Thomas Jefferson and the Virginia Statute for Religious Freedom: Faith & Liberty in Fredericksburg, Michael Aubrecht expertly delivers the story of the creation of this remarkable document and its relationship to the city in which it was written.

The Virginia Statute for Religious Freedom was written in Fredericksburg, Virginia in January 1777. Jefferson and four other men had been appointed to a Committee of Revisors tasked to examine Virginia’s existing laws and redraft them as necessary for the newly independent Commonwealth. Jefferson’s Statute, originally known simply as Bill 82, was only one of more than a hundred bills cataloged by the committee, but its significance has certainly been profound. Aubrecht’s narrative goes beyond telling how Jefferson wrote the document, however. Indeed, historians are not sure as to when exactly that occurred during the week that the committee met at Weedon’s Tavern in Fredericksburg. Instead, Aubrecht expertly places the story of the document’s creation within the context of the time and place it was written.

Each of the book’s thirteen chapters is essentially a vignette, concisely covering the man who wrote the statute, his and the nascent country’s views towards religion and religious practice, and the city and tavern in which it was written. The author also covers topics related to statute’s legacy, including its commemoration, and civic organizations, such as the Jefferson Institute, that perpetuate that legacy. Thus, while the story of the writing of the Virginia Statute for Religious Freedom can be and, indeed has been, quickly and effectively described on interpretive signs and monuments, Aubrecht effectively focuses on the sentiments and character of the man and locations that shaped the document.

Thomas Jefferson was not a one dimensional figure and Aubrecht does not whitewash his chief character. Jefferson was a man with many virtues and talents, but also possessed his share of faults. Aubrecht, like many other historians of the Colonial and Early Republican eras, observes and notes the contradiction between Jefferson’s views on liberty and the fact that his way of life was entirely dependent on slavery. Such objectivity only serves to strengthen the credibility of Aubrecht’s work.

Aubrecht’s work is masterfully researched. As is the case with any effective work of history, the work is truly based on extensive primary source research, chiefly the papers and correspondence of Jefferson. Scholars examining topics relating to religion in Colonial and Early America will find value in mining Aubrecht’s bibliography. Michael Aubrecht’s Thomas Jefferson and the Virginia Statute for Religious Freedom: Faith & Liberty in Fredericksburg will be of interest to anyone interested in Early American history and is a must read for scholars researching religious attitudes during this fascinating and complex period.

Review by: Timothy Willging, Fredericksburg, Virginia.

Review: American Dialogue by Joseph Ellis

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American Dialogue-cover“The study of history is an ongoing conversation between past and present from which we all have much to learn,” write Joseph Ellis in his new book, American Dialogue: The Founders and Us. The book serves as Ellis’s attempt to sit with several of the Founders and carry on that conversation, with “us,” the readers, as spectators. As John Adams so often did with his own books, we can engage in the conversation by writing notes in the margins and underlining passages, and we can even read the original works of the Founders ourselves. Knowing they were writing as much to history as to each other, they left behind a rich documentary legacy.

Ellis’s book plumbs these writings to explore four salient points that trouble the American present. “By definition, all efforts to harvest the accumulated wisdom of the past must begin from a location in the present…” he admits. The present he writes from and that we read from, he says, is “inescapably shaped by our location in a divided America that is currently incapable of sustained argument and unsure of its destiny.” Continue reading “Review: American Dialogue by Joseph Ellis”

Origins of a Revolutionary Orator

Studley state historical marker
State of Virginia historical marker for Studley

Nestled in Hanover County, VA, near where modern residential communities meet farm fields that have been worked for centuries, is the site of a colonial-era plantation home called Studley.  It was here on this site that Patrick Henry, the “Voice of the Revolution”, was born.

A 600-acre tobacco plantation, Studley was built in the 1720’s for its original owner, Colonel John Syme and his bride, Sarah, the former Sarah Winston.  The surrounding community, as it does today, took its name from the site. (By the mid-19th century, the Studley area was called Haws Shop, after a nearby blacksmith shop.  In the latter part of May, 1864, Union and Confederate cavalry units fought a dismounted action here just prior to the battle of Cold Harbor.  Prominent among the Union commanders engaged was Brig. Gen. George Armstrong Custer.)

Sketch of Studley
Sketch of Studley

Continue reading “Origins of a Revolutionary Orator”