What did “one if by land, two if by sea” mean?

It’s one of those phrases, like “Damn the torpedoes!” or “Give me liberty or give me death!”, that all Americans know, but not everyone is sure they can explain. It’s a quick story but a good one.

In May 1774, the governor of Massachusetts, Thomas Gage, dissolved the General Court. This was Massachusetts’ popularly elected legislature, and had been since the Massachusetts Bay Colony was founded in 1630. The General Court was to be replaced by a Council of men appointed by King George III, just as Governor Gage had been royally appointed. This move overturned the system established in 1691 when Massachusetts became a royal colony: a royally appointed governor, but a popularly elected legislature.

Gage dissolved the GC because it was filled with men agitating for revolution. It was an attempt to stop the GC from fomenting rebellion amongst the so-far non-committal people of the colony. But whether or not they supported revolution, Massachusetts citizens were not going to give up their right to elect their representatives. They voted for representatives in the fall of 1774 as usual, except now those men would constitute the Provincial Congress. This Congress was illegal, according to the British Massachusetts Government Act that had dissolved the GC. It was not allowed to meet in Boston, and so gathered in Concord, northwest of the city. (Learn more about this fascinating 1774 vote at Boston 1775.)

So the Provincial Congress was in Concord, led by John Hancock, and a network of secret spy posts quickly went up between Boston and Concord. These were organized and manned by the Sons of Liberty’s Committee of Safety, which had one very active member named Paul Revere. The northwest precinct of Cambridge, a village called Menotomy (today’s Arlington) was just about at the halfway mark, and the Committee of Safety established a post at the White Horse tavern there. The posts were meant to send news from Boston to Concord about British plans and troop movements.

When the patriots in Boston found out from their spies that the British were planning to go out to Concord to seize an arms and ammunition cache, then arrest the members of the PC, Paul Revere, William Dawes, Samuel Prescott, and a few men whose names are lost to history made ready to ride out to Concord along the spy road to warn the town and the Congress. Word came that the British would set out from Boston on the night of April 18th. Now all they needed to know was what route the soldiers would take out to Concord.

This image, from the Paul Revere house website, shows the two possible routes:

The “land” route is in green. The green line that begins in Boston actually covers up the thin, long neck of land that connected the city to the mainland, but there was a land line, and if the British went south, that would be going “by land”. This was a longer, more roundabout way to Concord, but it avoided the difficulties of the sea route.

The “sea” route is in blue. The little blue boat covers up the Charles River that lay between Boston and Charlestown. Taking this route, the British got to Concord a little sooner, but also got very wet embarking and disembarking and then marching through swamp land on the shore.

Dawes actually took off first, before Revere, going by way of the land route just before the British army sealed off the city. Revere snuck across the Charles River to Charlestown, illegally crossing the river at night, to warn the citizens that the army might be coming through at any moment. Revere and the citizens of Charlestown whom he had alarmed then waited for a signal from Robert Newman, sexton of the Old North Church in Boston, about whether the British were indeed on their way, or taking the southern route.

One lantern for the southern route; two for the river crossing. Two lanterns appeared in the steeple for less than a minute, lest they be sighted. The men of Charlestown began their preparations, hiding horses that could be commandeered by the British and getting word to their militia men to start for Concord. Revere got on his horse and tore down the spy road through Menotomy and Medford, “alarming” the citizens that “the Regulars are out!” (This referred to the soldiers of the British Regular Army.) When he arrived in Lexington, and the house Hancock and Samuel Adams were staying at, a man in the house was waked up by Revere shouting. He asked Revere why he was making so much noise in the middle of the night. “Noise!” retorted Revere. “You’ll have more noise than this before long! The regulars are coming out!”

The rest is history. The British completed their sea route to Concord, and a famous standoff ensued—more on that another time. For now, “one if by land, two if by sea” is fully explained for all, and makes a satisfying addition to our store of knowledge on our country’s founding.

Truth v. Myth: “Born Fighting”

Senator James Webb (D-VA) published his book Born Fighting: How the Scots-Irish Shaped America in 2004; the Smithsonian Channel just broadcast the video adaptation recently. It was aired in two parts. Part 1 focused on Scotland, beginning with Hadrian’s Wall, and followed the eventual appearance of Protestantism in Scotland, the conflicts with England over non-conformism, and the recruitment of Protestant Scots by England into the north of Ireland to settle land seized by the English government from Catholic Irish landholders (thus changing the Irish population, it was hoped, and calming the place down for English rule). The Scots encountered growing hostility from the native population they were helping to colonize, and after the siege and battle of Londonderry, in which they received no help from England in beating off the Catholic Irish, many of the Scots—now called Scots-Irish or Scotch-Irish by the native population who did not accept even those born in the country as Irish, left for another English colonial land: America.

This first part of the documentary was not perfect, but it was at least technically accurate in most of its details. The second part goes dramatically off-course into the damaging kind of us-vs-them, who’s-a-real-American, America-is-about-violence, and racial politics that is characteristic of myth. We’re going to take the time to rebut the myth perpetuated by one of our Senators because it’s important to call people in high office on the damage they do to historical truth and our own citizens’ perception of what our country stands for.

Like most people who have a thesis that one group of people, one invention, one idea, etc., has shaped the course of world history, Webb consistently makes statements about the Scots-Irish that could be true of any group. “This culture shaped America”, he begins, “…creating the very basis of American democracy.” Which culture that is part of America has not shaped it? Which culture has left no imprint on our government, political history, treasured ideas, or important battles? And since our democracy has been constantly evolving since 1775, no one group can claim to have established the basis of that democracy. (If you had to choose, you’d have to say Americans of English descent. The men who framed our government and put its ideals and principles into law were overwhelmingly of English background.)

Webb’s elevator description of the Scots-Irish is “fight, sing, drink, pray”. This to him sums up their willingness to fight any war, their resolve and determination, their rebellious refusal to submit to “outside” law, and their strict morality. Again, it’s not hard to think of other groups do not have the same reputation: the Irish, Greeks, and Mexicans come to mind. But Webb begins part 2 with the story of the first Scots-Irish in America, again recruited by the English to put down the locals and act as colonizers. Scots-Irish people settled in Pennsylvania on the borderlands between Quaker settlement and Native Americans. Webb describes their experiences there in what he calls “the unimproved wilderness”. The word “wilderness” comes up frequently, and is never questioned as inaccurate (as the land had been settled, hunted, and known by its native inhabitants for millennia). The Quaker refusal to fight is mentioned repeatedly, and seems to be put out there to deride the Quakers and anyone else who questions the value of violence and war. This is a theme that runs through the show.

Again, at the end of the Pennsylvania section, Webb says that the “flood” of Scots-Irish immigrants that followed “would eventually transform America”, and again it’s a claim you could make about anyone, including the English, French, and Germans who preceded or came along with the Scots-Irish just about wherever they went.

It is almost funny when Webb describes the pioneers in the Shenandoah Valley who “carried their few belongings with them” (unlike all other pioneers?) into the “wilderness” only to discover “they weren’t alone”. The fact that the land was inhabited is, of course, the first indicator of its not being a wilderness. The Native Americans whose land the pioneers were settling are basically presented as threatening, though it is of course the natives who were threatened by white settlement and claims of land ownership.

When the French and Indian War began, Webb says, the Scots-Irish fought eagerly and made their name as “unflinching fighters”. He characterizes their attitude as “This is my land and I’m going to stay here and protect it and if I have to, I will fight for it.” Which again is the precise attitude of every group of people in human history who have been in a war on their own territory. Only the Native Americans, in this case, really had the right to say it.

Already, Webb is making a case he will repeat many times: the Scots-Irish a) like to fight, b) are brave (really braver than anyone else), and c) show their independence by fighting. The first tenet really discredits the second two. People who like to fight aren’t really brave, and they don’t fight for independence, but because it’s what they do. The Scots-Irish on the frontier fought because that’s what they had been hired to do by the British governors who brought them in (payment being the right to settle and the grant of religious freedom) and they wanted to keep the land they had settled. That is not really about bravery or independence.

In fact, we have seen the Scots-Irish now as established colonizers, people with no hesitation to help a colonial power destroy native people in return for those people’s lands. It is odd that this is never addressed in Webb’s tale of the Scots-Irish as freedom-loving people who always fought tyranny.

His description of the period between the end of the French and Indian War and the beginning of the Revolutionary War is, politely put, difficult to understand. “Britain tightened its grip over America’s east coast. And now, isolated from British colonial rule to the east, the Scots-Irish frontiersmen settled into their American roots… and turned their backs on bigotry in America’s colonial towns”.

The bizarre inaccuracies—British rule had always been most present on the east coast (which is why the British brought in the Scots-Irish to colonize the western frontier); but after the war concentrated more and more on controlling the western frontier; as frontierspeople the Scots-Irish had always been isolated from coastal society; and bigotry is never relegated to urban areas (see plantation life)—slowly make sense only as the show goes on and Webb talks about Andrew Jackson. Webb reveres Jackson, and has apparently bought into the idea Jackson and his followers evangelized for, that “elites” were running America and a cabal of “aristocrats” in the cities was ruining the nation. The idea that Jackson put power in the hands of average people is not true; he put his friends and financial backers into federal office regardless of their qualifications, he was a wealthy slaveholder, and he had no special regard for the rights of the “little guy”, as any Native or black American would tell you.

As for the idea that the previously isolated Scots-Irish were isolated still after the war, it’s not really true. Germans and Huguenots moved in large numbers into the American south from the mid-1600s right up to the Revolutionary War. Many of the Germans were Protestants unable to worship as they wished at home, and of course the Huguenots left everything behind in France to come to America in the name of religious freedom. Webb would have viewers believe the Scots-Irish were the only people in America (maybe in the world) who sacrificed for their freedom of religion, left everything behind, and braved the hardships of the frontier with no help from outside. All of the colonies of the south were first settled, of course, by the English. Most of them were non-conformists, just like the Scots-Irish, who refused to compromise their faith and left all behind in the name of freedom. In North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, and Kentucky, the Scots-Irish came in after the Huguenots and Germans.

The Revolutionary War saw many Scots-Irish enlist, just as it saw many members of all the groups in the colonies enlist. Webb focuses on the Battle of King’s Mountain of 1780, in which 900 Scots-Irish militia men routed 1200 British soldiers. The British, rigidly sticking to “European battle formation”, were mown down by the sniping Scots-Irish who were smart enough to use guerrilla tactics. Webb states there were 500 British casualties and 28 American. The ragged, poor militia “destroyed” the British army.

But it wasn’t completely that way. The British did not remain in formation, standing still waiting to get shot, but instead made repeated bayonet charges, which, while unsuccessful in winning the battle, at least made some sense. Of the five American militia leaders, one was of Huguenot descent (John Sevier), two were governors, two served in Congress, and two served in state legislatures; three were born into wealth, and one married into it. So the leadership was not completely rag-tag. The casualties were 244 killed, 163 wounded, and 668 taken prisoner for the British, and 29 killed and 58 wounded for the Americans. One reason for the high British death count was that the militia men continued firing after the British put up a white flag.

We’ll end this post with Webb’s second bizarre leap away from historical fact: he claims that “In 1783, America acknowledged the efforts made by the overwhelmingly Scots-Irish militiamen in the south in the Second Amendment to the U.S. Constitution”. First, the Second Amendment was adopted in 1791 with the rest of the original Bill of Rights (the Constitution wasn’t written and ratified until 1787). Second, a starkly modern political agenda is expressed here as historical fact. Webb goes on to say basically that people in the south care so much about gun ownership because they were once frontiersmen, and the frontiersman’s duty to protect his family over time turned into a right “for people with a long history of mistrust of the central government. There’s a saying around here: I’ll give up my gun when you pry it from my cold, dead hands.”

Where to begin. First, what region of our nation never had a frontier? Is it that the north was never frontier land? The west? Every region of the present United States began as frontier land, where people had muskets or rifles to hunt with and to fight Indians and to use as part of the local militia in times of war. Second, either gun ownership is about self-reliance (the frontiersman) or it’s about not believing in government. If it’s that southerners never trusted the federal government, that’s not about the frontier. That’s a mistrust of the federal government that was shared by New Englanders, Mid-Atlantic states residents, and every other region you can think of. That’s what made creating the federal government in 1787 so difficult; even the “elites” on the east coast had their doubts about it turning into a tyranny. (It’s funny that this suspicious government is the one that made a special Amendment to preserve the rights of the Scots-Irish. One wonders what prevented them from looking more kindly on such a government.)

Webb, I think it’s fair to say, is looking at 1791 through the lens of 2011 and 1865 to say that the south is right not to trust the unfair northern government that oppresses it today and has oppressed it since the end of the Civil War. (You’ll see why I say this in the next post.) But the Second Amendment was not written to give people a way to create a state; our Founders believed that our system of law, our democracy, would keep people safe and free. It’s our government and the laws it is based on and that it enforces that create our liberty, independence, freedom, whatever you like to call it. Guns are not law, they are an alternative to law. So I quarrel with Senator Webb’s description of the origins of the Second Amendment, and the validity of the southern (as he calls it) attachment to weapons. The Amendment was not written as a thank-you to the Scots-Irish, and it is not about substituting gun ownershp for centralized government.

Next time: Jackson, the Civil War, and how the entire middle class is Scots-Irish

What happened at Valley Forge?

“Valley Forge” is another of those iconic phrases used to describe American history that fewer Americans understand than one might think. It is hardly ever explained; “Valley Forge,” someone will say, using the two words to convey worlds of meaning. The Revolution is Yorktown, Washington Crossing the Delaware, and Valley Forge.

Of those three moments in the war, Valley Forge at least conjures up a concrete image: barefoot soldiers leaving footprints of blood in the snow. We are urged to study the bravery and devotion of those patriots, and with good reason. But first, some important questions must be answered. Why on earth was the Continental Army in such bad shape during the winter encampment of 1777-8? Was it incompetence on the part of their commander, General Washington, or unconcern? Or was it just the way the Americans experienced the war, always worse off than the British army?

Let’s start at the beginning. In the fall of 1777, the British had taken Philadelphia, the American capital. Washington’s army had attempted to stop the British, led by General Howe, at the Brandywine River, but failed. Now the British Army occupied Philadelphia, and settled in there for the winter.

The Continental Army, as it had the previous winter, wanted to stay close to the British during the winter hiatus. That way, when fighting resumed in the spring, the Continentals would be ready to stop the British from any further moves. Washington decided to make winter camp at Valley Forge.

Remember, at that time there was no shudder of doom at the very name of Valley Forge. And in fact, it was a good location. Valley Forge was in a settled area, where local people could provide food and clothing if they wished (Washington never forced locals to contribute), and it was the area where the British would have gone outside Philadelphia to forage for food. Cities weren’t like they are today, with abundant food through the winter. The British Army would quickly go through the stores of food in town, and would want to go into the countryside to hunt game, just as the people of Philadelphia would have done. Washington made that a lot harder. Valley Forge was also very well situated for defense, making it very difficult for the British to pull off an off-season surprise attack.

So his army began to build cabins. It was December, and while there was never a lot of snow—our mental image of huge drifts freezing the men is incorrect—it was constantly wet and cold. The Continentals were worn out from their fall campaign, low on supplies, and wearing pretty tattered clothes. Their marching had torn apart their shoes. And while it was never easy for Congress to supply the army (it levied no taxes and had no power over the colonies), it was now impossible for Congress to do anything to help. Congress, meeting in Philadelphia, had been forced to flee when the town fell. Washington’s army was on its own.

The local people could do little to help. The British had raided their towns before the end of the fall campaign, taking their stores of food and ammunition and burning some houses.

So the Continental soldiers began building their cabins, which they did very quickly. Shelter was not so much a problem as food and clothing. The army quartermaster, Thomas Mifflin, did a terrible job finding supplies for the men. He was replaced by General Nathanael Green, who did a much better job of coaxing contributions from local people and doing deals with merchants in unoccupied cities. The soldiers never actually starved, but the food they got was often lacking in nutrition, and there was never enough. Weak and dispirited, the man let all rules of hygiene go, leaving the rotting carcasses of horses (dead from fatigue and little food) lay throughout the camp and refusing to use latrines (relieving themselves throughout the camp). The poor diet and bad hygiene made it easier for soldiers to get sick, and dysentery, typhus, and other camp diseases took many lives.

The stench of bodily waste and rotting horses finally drove Washington to issue an order than any man seen not using a latrine would get five lashes of the whip. Washington was very much a part of the camp. He did not retreat to officers’ quarters. He visited the makeshift hospitals and walked the camps daily. He also had 3-4,000 men vaccinated against smallpox at a time when most people did not believe in vaccination because they did not understand this medical innovation.

He also took their side. Washington wrote a letter on December 23, 1777, describing the terrible state of the men—and angrily blasting the ridiculous attitude of some “Gentlemen” who ignore their hardships:

“[W]e find Gentlemen …reprobating the [decision to make a winter camp rather than attack Philadelphia] as much as if they thought Men [the Soldiery] were made of Stocks or Stones and equally insensible of frost and Snow and moreover, as if they conceived it [easily] practicable for an inferior Army under the disadvantages I have describ’d ours to be to confine a superior one (in all respects well appointed, and provided for a Winters Campaign) within the City of Phila., and [to protect] the States of Pensa., Jersey, &ca. but what makes this matter still more extraordinary in my eye is, that these very Gentn. who were well apprized of the nakedness of the Troops …advised me, near a Month ago, to postpone the execution of a Plan, I was about to adopt for seizing Cloathes… [they] think a Winters Campaign and the covering these States from the Invasion of an Enemy so easy a business. I can assure those Gentlemen that it is a much easier and less distressing thing to draw remonstrances in a comfortable room by a good fire side than to occupy a cold bleak hill and sleep under frost and Snow without Cloaths or Blankets; however, although they seem to have little feeling for the naked, and distressed Soldier, I feel superabundantly for them, and from my Soul pity those miseries, wch. it is neither in my power to relieve or prevent…”

The soldiers were not alone, though we picture them in complete, miserable isolation. They were helped by women and even children, wives and children of soldiers who were known as “camp followers.” Some women decided to join their husbands in the off-season, when there was less work to do at the farm at home, and their ceaseless, voluntary labor and care saved many men. Women and older children did laundry, worked in hospitals, foraged for food, cooked, wrote letters, and generally eased the suffering at camp even as they shared in it. It is estimated that about 500 women and children camped at Valley Forge, raising spirits and preventing more deaths.

In the spring of 1778, an unsung hero arrived at camp. Christopher Ludwig was a baker in Philadelphia who came to Valley Forge with 60-70 men and started baking. He used his own supplies and ovens, and he refused to take payment. He baked bread night and day so that every soldier would get the daily pound of fresh bread he had been promised by Congress. Fish also started running, and the soldiers went fishing every day to round out their meager diet.

They needed the extra food. The Baron von Steuben had arrived in February to drill the army, and he was untiring in his efforts to get them ready to face the British army and win a set battle. The tired and still under-nourished men withstood hours of training and were much improved by May, when they heard the marvelous news that France had joined the war on their side.

When at last it came time to break camp, the Continental Army was still mostly intact. The hordes of desertions even the most optimistic observer would have expected had not taken place, and while there had been many deaths (we don’t know how many; some say 3,000 men) from disease, those who were left were relatively well-fed and very well-trained, and ready for a spring campaign. The survivors were also even more loyal to their commander. Washington had shared their terrible experiences, living in a cabin and suffering cold and hunger and endangering himself by visiting the sick. His wife Martha had been a camp follower, serving not only her husband but enlisted men as well, working alongside other American women to relieve the suffering of the soldiers.

The British left Philadelphia in June. Now that France was in the war, they feared a French naval attack from the east far more than an American attack inland, and they removed to New York. Washington broke camp in June, leaving Valley Forge for a site closer to Philadelphia, but he dispatched men to go back to Valley Forge and clean it up. This kind of consideration for local people was unheard of, and endeared the general to the common American people.

The Continentals re-occupied Philadelphia once the British left, then followed the army and waged battle at Monmouth Courthouse on June 28. The newly trained Continentals were fighting well, but bad leadership by General Lee was costing them the battle until Washington found out Lee was retreating. Furious, he overtook Lee and led the men back into the attack, forcing a British retreat.

It wasn’t quite a win, but it was a powerful affirmation for the Continental army that had suffered so much at Valley Forge. We see that camping there was not some terrible mistake, Washington was not an uncaring ogre, and the men were not abandoned in their suffering. Valley Forge was a good location, Washington was a good leader, and hundreds of average Americans volunteered to help their army. It was really the hardship of having the capital of Philadelphia occupied, and Congress scattered, that ensured a terrible winter camp for the army in 1777-8.

The bad news is that the next winter camp of 1778-9 was even worse. This time the Continentals were in two places: part of the army led by Washington camped in Middlebrook, New Jersey (to guard against the British leaving New York to the south), and had a fairly easy winter camp. But the part led by General Putnam encamped in Connecticut (to keep the British from leaving New York to the east) had a terrible winter. The usual lack of supplies was causing problems, but the army felt experienced enough to deal with this when suddenly, one of the biggest blizzards in New England history struck in December. Foraging was impossible, and the cabins could not keep out the cold. It was a terrible winter camp that made Valley Forge seem bearable.

Why don’t we remember “Putnam in Connecticut” like we remember “Valley Forge”? Maybe it’s because Washington wasn’t in Connecticut, and we only remember our biggest heroes. But the next time you’re near Danbury, Connecticut, pay a visit to Putnam State Park and remember all the heroes of our war for independence.

Why did Washington cross the Delaware?

We all learn this phrase—Washington crossing the Delaware—in school in the U.S., but few of us remember what it refers to. It was actually a key moment in the Revolutionary War.

Washington’s Continental Army had been retreating almost from the moment it was formed. From August to October 1776 Washington had been steadily chased out of New York, from Long Island north to Manhattan and then across the Hudson River at the northernmost point of Manhattan to New Jersey. From November through December 7, Washington’s army was hounded by the British all the way through New Jersey, with the Continentals finally crossing the Delaware River from New Jersey into Pennsylvania.

At this point, the Continental Army seemed like it might be permanently beaten. The British saw no threat, and set up winter camps at Bordentown, Trenton, and Princeton in New Jersey.

In the 18th century, armies shut down operations for the winter months, as marching was difficult, food supplies low, and surprise hard to come by. The Continental Army followed this custom too, and would likely have made camp where it was in Pennsylvania without any further action had Washington not believed that the army desperately needed a victory, not only for its own morale, but for the sake of the fledgling nation.

He decided to make a surprise attack on the Hessian forces fighting for Britain at Trenton. His army would attack on Christmas Day.

In December 1776 Washington had around 4-6,000 soldiers in his army, although about 1,700 of those men were too sick to fight. The continual retreats had forced the army to leave behind valuable supplies of food and munitions. Two American generals, Gates and Lee, were nearby, and were ordered by Congress to join forces with Washington’s frail army in Pennsylvania, but neither did so. They each had their reasons, which included the thought that if they could pull off a great victory while Washington languished, one of them might be made commander-in-chief of the American forces.

Another problem for Washington was that many of the soldiers’ enlistments were up on December 31. They would be free to go home at that point, and why wouldn’t they?

Washington had to act quickly and boldly. One step he took to encourage men who might be leaving on the 31st to stay was to have Thomas Paine’s new pamphlet, The American Crisis, read aloud to the army. This is the familiar text we all know the first sentence of:

“These are the times that try men’s souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of his country; but he that stands it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph.”

Hoping that these stirring ideas and his own brave example would do their work, Washington prepared for the attack on Trenton. Early on Christmas Day the army went to the ferry landing on the Delaware and began the long process of being taken across the river as silently as possible. Washington was in the first boat, and found a good landing site for the rest of the men.

You have most likely seen this painting:

It is called “Washington Crossing the Delaware,” and it is a mighty representation of tattered men fording the icy river, Washington standing tall and determined with the new flag behind him. The only real problem with this is Washington standing so tall—tall enough to throw off the balance of the boat and capsize it. He likely sat in the boat with the rest of the men. Otherwise, I think the tattered clothing and preoccupation of the men, few of whom are looking up from their oars, with getting safely across the river are very realistic.

It was not until 3 AM on December 26 that the entire Continental Army got safely across the river. It was snowing and sleeting. Washington broke the army into two columns, leading one with General Nathaniel Greene and putting General John Sullivan in charge of the other. They took parallel paths to Trenton, and fell on the Hessian camp, where some men were sleeping and others still drunkenly celebrating the holiday. No Americans were killed; the camp was taken, and 110 Hessians were killed or wounded. Precious muskets, powder, and bullets were seized, and the Continentals took 1,000 prisoners back with them into Pennsylvania—they did not stay in New Jersey to be attacked by the British at Princeton.

The victory did just what Washington had intended: it raised the morale of the soldiers and the nation. He was not concerned with the jockeying for leadership of Lee and Gates, but his victory sealed his role as commander-in-chief of the army. On December 27, the Continental Congress gave Washington special powers to recruit soldiers and get supplies from the states, to appoint officers, run the army, and arrest any citizens who did not take Continental currency as payment. Washington used these powers for six months, then relinquished them.

A last note on crossing the Delaware and the capture of Trenton: when Washington wrote to Congress with his report on the state of the Army on December 31, he said that “free Negroes who have served in the Army, are very much dissatisfied at being discarded.” Washington allowed those black Americans who wanted to re-enlist to do so. He had originally forbid any black Americans, free or enslaved, to serve in the Continental Army. Like the Union generals who would follow his footsteps 87 years later, Washington learned to see the courage and humanity of enslaved black Americans by virtue of black soldiers’ valor and determination in battle.

So, Washington crossed the Delaware from Pennsylvania to surprise-attack the Hessians at Trenton, New Jersey on Christmas Day, thus keeping the army and the nation’s hopes alive for another season of campaigning in the spring and summer of 1777. It was a very important success, and one that deserves to be remembered in full.

Revolution Myth #5: America had no chance of winning the war

Welcome to the last in our Truth v. Myth series on 5 Myths about the American Revolution. Here we re-examine the cherished idea that we were total underdogs in our war of independence. This article was inspired by a re-listening to the insightful Prof. Allen Guelzo’s lecture series “The American Revolution.”

Yes, the British Army was bigger than the Continental Army, and better organized. And most British officers and politicians in the spring of 1775 thought the war could be won fairly quickly.

But the British Army was not that big—at least not in America. In 1775, there were about 38,000 men serving in the British Army around the world, and around 18,000 men in the Royal Navy (in 270 ships) also spread around the world. To fight in America, men had to be impressed and mercenaries hired, because Britain did not want to pull its forces from the invaluable sugar islands in the Caribbean, which would be snapped up by France or Holland if left unguarded. Sugar was the oil of the 18th century, to borrow Prof. Robert Bucholz’s inspired phrase, and the sugar islands were far more valuable to Britain than all the colonies in North America. So when 16,000 American men enlisted to fight the British in 1775, they were fairly equal in numbers to the redcoats.

The British Army was well-organized and well-run, far more so than the Continental Army. That did stand in Britain’s favor. British soldiers were under no illusions about having control over how long they served (though there were desertions from the British Army during the war).

As for the British attitude to the war, it was far more complex than we imagine. The British knew that those Americans in rebellion would not go down easily. They knew that they could not hope to conquer the vast territory of the 13 colonies, and that any attempt to conquer land battle-by-battle would result in a hopeless loss of men and drain on money and supplies in a war of attrition. They understood that an occupied people almost always win wars of attrition because they have the motivation and the resources to resist for many, many years.

The British approach was to try to destroy the heart of the rebellion—Boston, Washington’s army, the Congress—and get Loyalists to take over local governments. The British were hampered by poor communication, infighting between generals, the months it took to get orders from London, lack of support from Loyalists, and often conflicting goals (for instance, Howe was told to at once occupy New York City and to destroy Washington’s army in 1776; the impossibility of doing both at once led to delay and paralysis).

So while the British Army itself was well-organized internally, from the start it had management problems at the level of Parliament and its generals, and it was always low on supplies.

By 1778, opposition to the war was making itself heard in Parliament. We picture a vindictive empire trying to keep America in its clutches to the bitter end, committed to stamping out revolution, but in reality there was strong opposition to the war after three unproductive years. Boston had been occupied, and so had New York, but Washington’s army remained at large, the British had lost an army at Saratoga and an important battle at Trenton. The rebellion remained strong despite the occupation of two major cities, and the Loyalists had yet to rise up. Most important, France had joined the war on America’s side, which meant Britain had to increase its expenditures to supply its army and navy against a stronger—and now much more important—enemy. The sugar islands were at higher risk, and the sugar planters lobbied Parliament vigorously, threatening to oppose any move to relocate British soldiers from their islands to America. War with France meant war not only in America but in the Caribbean and India.

In these circumstances, Parliament came close to voting not to send any more soldiers to America at all in 1779, and Lord North’s government actually sent a peace committee to Congress, offering the colonies control over their taxation, no more quartering British soldiers on civilians, and acknowledgement of Congress—in short, everything the colonies wanted but independence. This offer was rejected, but it is significant to realize that by 1779, Britain was looking for a way out of the war. Washington fought his last battle against the British in July 1779, a full two years before the official surrender at Yorktown.

By the time Cornwallis’ disastrous attempts to take the Carolinas and organize Loyalists into an army to defeat Nathaniel Greene and turn the tide of the war were over, in1781, and the British surrendered their army to Washington, Parliament was mostly resigned to the loss, and already turning its attention to India, Africa, and the West Indies. It would hold on to its western territories in America, and try to foment Native American rebellion against the U.S. It would happily engage the U.S. in war in 1812, vengefully burning down our capital. But for Britain, its ever-expanding eastern empire and its wars against France in Europe were more important.

We see, then, that the deck was not totally stacked against us. This is not to say that Washington was not a genius and a powerful leader who kept our fight for liberty alive when the odds of success looked bleak. We could have lost that war. But we had more going for us than we think. Britain knew it faced substantial difficulties, just as America did. Everyone likes an underdog, but we shouldn’t overdo it.

Revolutionary Myth #4: All was well before the war

Part four of our series on 5 Myths about the Revolutionary War dwells on the pre-war period.

In the shorthand version of American history, the colonial period is one of peace and prosperity right up to the 1770s. But especially in New England, the 17th and 18th centuries were strewn with political conflict and open war.

Canada and New England ended up acting out the wars between France and England over and over from 1689 through 1763. In 1689, New Englanders overthrew the Dominion imposed on them by James II. From 1689-1697, New England was a battlefield in King William’s War. Just five years later, word came to New England that they were at war with Canada once again, for in 1702, Queen Anne’s War began. This war lasted until 1711. The War of Jenkins’ Ear (1739-42) involved New Englanders recruited to fight in the Caribbean, most notably in the attempt to take Cartagena (in what is today Colombia). 65% of the 4,183 Americans who went to fight for Cartagena died.

In 1745 and 1758, New Englanders went to Louisbourg, the major French fort guarding Canada from the sea, successfully capturing it in 1745 only to have Great Britain return it to France in their peace treaty. Harried by French-sponsored Native American attacks from 1748-58, New Englanders retook the fort at great cost in 1758 (it was destroyed in 1760).

So we see that New England was in a state of almost constant turmoil in its colonial years, turmoil almost always caused by England’s wars with France. England spared few troops for North America, focusing on the naval battles in Europe, and more than once promised to send soldiers to back up New England, then failed to do so. This caused great anger and bewilderment in New England, which felt it was being deliberately endangered by its mother country.

Of course, the last in this series of wars between France and Britain in America was the French and Indian War, 1756-63. The road to revolution was taken the next year, when the Sugar Act was passed.

No wonder New England was the hotbed of revolution against England by 1764. A sense of betrayal and separateness had been forged by all those battles against France that New Englanders fought without British help. It would not be until 1815, when the War of 1812 ended, that New England breathed several decades’ worth of peace.

Next—our final myth!

Revolutionary Myth #3: the Revolution happened quickly

We look back and tend to see a constant boil of activity in the 1770s that led to revolution. But here in part 3 of my series of 5 Myths about the Revolutionary War, we will see this is not really so.

When you study colonial town or precinct records, you see that towns, villages, and precincts met once a year (“town meeting”) to set policy, settle debates, take actions, and elect officers. Reading the record books, it seems like discussions took years–meet in April 1737 to debate the town border, meet in April 1738 to debate the town border, April 1739, etc. While discussions must have taken place between meetings, official actions, committees, and decisions took place only at town meeting. Sometimes an emergency meeting was called to expedite things, but not always.

So with the Revolution. While history books and narratives compress events, leading you to feel like the timespan between the first punitive Act (the Sugar Act) and Lexington and Concord was about 1-2 years, it all unfolded much more slowly. The Sugar Act was imposed in April 1764. The Stamp Act was imposed in March 1765. Patrick Henry gave his famous “if this be treason” speech about the Stamp Act that same year. The Townshend Act came two years later, in 1767. The Boston Massacre was three years later, in 1770.

Usually the Boston Massacre is presented as the tipping point, after which Revolution happened with lightning speed. Many people, if quizzed, think the Boston Massacre must have been in 1775. But it was a good five years before the fighting began. Between the Massacre and Lexington and Concord was the Boston Tea Party, in December 1773. The “Intolerable Acts” were put in place the next year, 1774. The first Continental Congress met in fall 1774, issuing a declaration of principles…

…but still it was not until April 1775 that the war began. Why did things move so slowly?

First, of course, was communications. It took weeks to months for the Sugar Act or Townshend Acts to take full effect throughout the colonies. Thus it took that long for indignation to build amongst Americans. South Carolina would have heard about the March 1770 Boston Massacre in the spring of 1771. And they only heard about it through the determined letter writing of men like Samuel Adams; newspapers from Boston that published the story would have had it picked up by newspapers in neighboring colonies, like Connecticut and New York, and from there it might have been picked up in Pennsylvania or New Jersey, but beyond that point the story as a newspaper story would have died. It had to be disseminated by individuals’ letters, whether private or public.

There was also the winter. Winter made travel much more slow—sometimes impossible—and this meant not only that newspapers and letters traveled far more slowly, but also that all actions were on hold until the spring. Just as armies made winter camp in December and did not fight at all until April or May, so protests and meetings were on hiatus over the snowy months.

Finally, of course, there was peoples’ reluctance to go to war. Each event—Act, riot, shooting, speech—was endured or taken in and then made sense of in a way that would allow people to avoid the terror of war. Each time something happened, Americans hoped it was the last time something dangerous would happen, and that the troubles would die down and life could go back to normal. No people want to endure a war. So there was a great deal of effort expended on diplomacy and peaceful efforts to turn things around.

So really, there was no sustained fever of revolutionary activity in the 1770s, not even in Boston. Events hit people in the spring and summer, went into hibernation through the winter, and were superseded by less inflammatory, daily events the next spring—for which people were understandably grateful. It was really not until March 1774, when the Port Act went into effect against Boston, that events hit rapidly, and even then the winter of 1774-5 was quiet, with Paul Revere’s ride coming the following April 1775.

It is only when we look back and compress events from the Sugar Act to the North Bridge that it seems like a frenzy of revolution. In reality, it took 11 years, from the 1764 Sugar Act to the 1775 shootouts in Lexington, Concord, and especially Menotomy, for the Revolution to begin.

Next: Myth 4: All was well before the war

Revolutionary War Myth #2: Americans didn’t want to pay taxes

Second in our series “Five Myths about the Revolutionary War” , concerning taxes.

Ask the average American what their colonial forebears thought about paying taxes and she will answer that they didn’t want to—wouldn’t do it, in fact, and went to war over it. But this is not so.

Americans in the Revolutionary period were not against paying taxes to Britain. Again, they were British citizens, thought of themselves as such, and had no problem with paying taxes like any other Britons to support the empire. The problem was that Americans began to suspect that they were being asked to pay for the French and Indian War (1756-63) all on their own.

In truth, Americans paid far less tax than people living in England. Taxes in England in the mid-18th century were very high. America was taxed less for a few reasons: for many beginning decades in the 1600s the colonies were not able to produce enough to be taxed very much; England was afraid to tamper with the fledgling colonial economies; it was easier and faster to collect taxes in England, where the money could be in London with days rather than weeks or months; and finally most Americans had very little actual cash, relying on bills of credit issued from London.

America also cost England very little until the French and Indian War. While England fought France and Holland in Europe, defending the home island was the main objective, and the people living on it paid the government’s expenses to do so.

But when the war with France came in full force to America in 1756, Britain had to expend a great deal of money and effort to fight and win the war there. Yes, Americans were vital to that war effort, and many volunteered to fight the hated French, but in fact most colonial governments actually charged the British army for their help. British soldiers bought food and supplies at incredibly inflated prices, paid for their board, and fought beside American militia members whose colonial governments hired them out to fight, making a pretty penny for those colonies.

Once the war was over and won for Britain, Americans assumed things would return to normal. But Britain, realizing that its citizens in England were exhausted financially, while its citizens in America had actually made money on top of their usual robust economy, turned at last to those colonies to pay for their war.

The British government might have done it, too, successfully and without any problem, if it hadn’t been impatient. Rather than introduce higher export duties on American merchants and farmers, or some other more gradual measure, it came down hard with sweeping taxes that invaded every aspect of life—taxes on stamps, sugar, and tea that made life harder for all Americans.

Even these taxes might have been accepted, if Parliament had given the Americans some say in the matter. Americans had begun to expect that they should have seats in Parliament. As British citizens, they should be able to participate in their own government. Perhaps every colony could send two representatives to Parliament, so that Americans could actually make the laws that would affect them. But the British government refused. Despite American claims to the rights of Englishmen, there was no denying that almost from the start of the colonial era there had been a clear divide between America and England, and a sense of alienation on both sides. (see Why did America Rebel against Britain? for more.)

So London did not really accept Americans as Britons, or America as just another branch of England. America was a colony, a possession, a piece of property, and its people were not British citizens but dependents on Britain. There could be no seat in Parliament for a foreign people under British rule.

When the Americans realized they would not be given a say in their own government, including what taxes were levied on them, their willingness to help pay for the French and Indian War evaporated and a rallying cry was born: “No taxation without representation.”

Americans, then, did not rebel against taxes, but against unfair government. Those Americans today who see protesting against all taxation as upholding the Revolutionary spirit and purpose are completely mistaken. Americans realized then as they do now that a government must tax its people. You pay taxes to get services. But it’s only fair to pay taxes if you have a say in them through your government representatives. If the Americans had been given their seats in Parliament, their representatives would have voted for most of the taxes and that would have been the end of it, rather than the beginning of a war.

Next time: The Revolution happened quickly

Truth v. Myth: 5 Myths about the American Revolutionary War

Our 100th post is, fittingly, a Truth v. Myth bonanza.

I was sitting through a slideshow about the Revolution designed for third-graders last week and thinking about the legends we all know by name—Washington crossing the Delaware, Valley Forge, Yorktown—but don’t really understand. Me being me, I was inevitably led to think of five quick myths about the Revolution. There are plenty more, I’m sure, and these aren’t even necessarily the most important ones, but you have to start somewhere. So today we address the first:

Myth 1: Americans were on board with the Revolution.

The majority of Americans did not see any need to separate from Great Britain. While they might not have considered it “home” anymore, they did take a good deal of their identity from being English citizens. As part of the British empire and commonwealth, Americans took pride in Britain’s power and its traditions, and saw no reason why America was not like all of the other British colonies—founded by Englishmen, fully entitled to the rights of Englishmen, quite similar in culture to England, and basically just Englishmen separated by an ocean from other Englishmen.

This is not to say that relations with England, and then Britain, had not always and almost continually been rocky. (See Why did America rebel against Britain? for details.) But picture it this way: states fight with the federal government, and many western states are continually at odds with the federal government about water rights, public park land, gun rights, illegal immigration, and endangered species. But the vast majority of citizens in those states would never get to the point where they felt they were not American, and wanted to secede. Even if they did secede, they would do so in the name of “real” Americanness, which they would feel they were protecting. When states oppose federal policies, they almost always see themselves as upholding true American values or principles.

So with the American colonies. Fight as they would with Britain, they never thought they were less English for disagreeing with London. In fact, as usual, most Americans felt they were often lone protectors of English rights and customs. They were more English than the people back in England, who were losing their way.

Thus, when war began in Massachusetts in April 1775, rebel leaders in Boston were isolated in their insistence that America break with Britain. What could the benefits possibly be? America, even if it won the fight, would be forever cut off from British wealth, prestige, power, and trade. And that wasn’t just “British” wealth, etc., but their own; they were British citizens. Revolution was civil war, and even as victors Americans would be family-killers.

Most Americans thought the answer to the real conflicts with Britain was to get American representatives into Parliament. If Americans could represent themselves as English citizens in their Parliament in London, things would even out.

And so the majority of Americans resisted and continued to resist rebellion and revolution, even as the war progressed. Many Americans who supported the war still hoped that once it was won, Britain would have learned a lesson and relations could be restored. Many Americans remained Loyalists. But the bulk of Americans were really neutral. They supported their colony’s militia, as ever more loyal to their locality than their new nation, and wanted to preserve their own colony’s rights and privileges. When battle came to a colony, the natives fought hard. When it left, they sat back to let the colony now under attack defend itself. Whatever the outcome of the war, most Americans were chiefly concerned with getting their colony the best possible deal—whether as victors dealing with a new federal govermnment, or as losers dealing with Britain.

It would not be until the 19th century that pride in creating a new nation and “overthrowing a tyrant” (rather than severing a family tie) would take over as the common feeling in America. Ironically, it was really after George Washington’s death that the new nation looked back with admiration and pride on its accomplishment. From 1775 to 1783, however, Englishmen in America were decidedly cool toward their great revolution.

Next: did America go to war over taxes?

The Dominion of New England; or, the Puritan Revolution

Many claims and counter-claims are made about whether the Puritans of New England can be considered to have dug the foundation for democracy in British America. The more I study it, the more I believe it is true. Let’s look at one important instance, the battle against the Dominion of New England, 1686-1689.

James II became king of England in 1685. James posed a threat to the country, in the eyes of his Protestant subjects, because he was Catholic. People feared he would try to return the kingdom to Catholicism, but James’ first move was not against England but Massachusetts. The Puritans in New England were just as vocal and militant about their designs for an improved England from the distant shores of America as they had been in the heart of London. And, more immediately, they had just sent Increase Mather as their representative to Parliament to try to fend off a new, royal charter that would give the king more power over them. James decided to rid himself of a burr in his saddle.

In 1686 he created the Dominion of New England. Massachusetts, Vermont, New Hampshire, Connecticut, Rhode Island, New York, and East and West Jersey made up the new domain. Edmund Andros, formerly governor of New York, was appointed by the king to run the Dominion with the help of a council—also appointed by the king. Andros took to his new role, exerting his power dictatorially.

The impact on Puritan colonists was fundamental:

—The popularly elected assemblies were dismissed.

—Puritan judges and military officers were replaced by Anglicans.
—Puritan clergy could no longer be paid by taxes.

—Land titles issued by Puritan governments before 1686 had to be reissued. Not only did Puritan colonists have to pay new title fees, they would also have to pay quitrents, an annual land tax.

—A new court was set up in Boston to enforce the Navigation Acts. It had no jury. In 1686 the court found at least six merchant ships guilty of violating the Acts and seized the ships. Merchants started avoiding the port of Boston, depressing the new England economy.

The list sounds very familiar to any student of the “Intolerable Acts” of 1774.

Puritan citizens of the colonies formerly known as New England were angry and despairing. They had little power to represent themselves to Parliament, and no hope of subverting the Dominion. Little did they know that the young, healthy new king who had enslaved them would soon be overthrown.

James had made his desire to return the country to Catholicism more and more open; thus, when his queen gave birth to a son and potential Catholic heir in 1688, his government didn’t wait for James to act. It invited Protestant Holland’s leader William of Orange to invade England and force James off the throne. William was conveniently married to Mary Stuart, James’ own daughter.

The plan worked. William was welcomed in London, and James II fled to France.

When the Puritans in the Dominion first heard about this Glorious Revolution in 1689, there was a moment of suspense. It was impossible to know if James was really permanently overthrown, and the long wait for news from England was agonizing. Once the good news came, Puritans from Maine to Connecticut rose up against Governor Andros’ officials, who were arrested and imprisoned. Massachusetts, Plymouth, Rhode Island, and Connecticut restored their original governments, complete with elected assemblies.

In New York City, rebels led by Jacob Leisler took over the colony. Leisler became governor.

The Puritans celebrated their successful rebellion. The colonies of New England remained royal colonies, rather than privately owned colonies, but they had preserved their independence. Their lawmakers were popularly elected. Their courts were local. Their laws were valid. And it was specifically to maintain those vital components of representative government that the Puritans fought.

Thus I think we can look back to the overthrow of the Dominion as a valid instance of Puritan Americans putting their independent and representative government ahead of all other considerations, and the events of 1689 were indeed fresh in the memories of men and women—grandchildren of rebels—who fought the Revolution. Benjamin Franklin, born in 1705, just 16 years after the Dominion was overthrown, would have heard the stories from people who took part in the rebellion. And thousands of New Englanders must have had their ancestors in mind when they agreed in 1776 that a government which does not have the consent of the people is legitimately overthrown.