250 and Counting

Thomas Jefferson gets most of the credit for writing the Declaration of Independence, but Thomas Jefferson’s background clearly informed his writing of that document. That’s what Mike talks about in today’s episode. In this space I’d like to tell you a little about Declaration House. The building was newly erected at the time Jefferson rented out a room from its builder, a bricklayer named Jacob Graff (which is why it was originally called the Graff House, go figure). Jefferson lived in the space with his 14-year-old enslaved valet, Robert Hemmings. Between 1776 and 1883, the house underwent several remodelings until it was finally torn down. It was reconstructed in 1975 by the National Park Service, and when it’s open, it has some museum exhibits on the first floor along with a short film about the drafting of the Declaration. The second floor is a reproduction of the space Jefferson used, containing period furnishings. As this is published, the site has been closed to the public since 2025 as part of a comprehensive rehabilitation project. The post Thomas Jefferson’s Origin Story–May 14, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

Few people outside of Georgia know who Jett Thomas was, and everybody’s kind of okay with that. Thomas was instrumental in ensuring that major buildings in Athens (Ga.) and Milledgeville were constructed specifically to support education and jurisprudence, and as a result two towns and an entire county are named after Jett Thomas today. Now, that’s validation. About the Federal Road: the Creek Indians gave the US Government permission to develop a “horse path” through their nation for more efficient mail delvery, specifically between Washington DC and New Orleans, LA. By 1812 the Federal Road begam in Fort Mitchell, AL, and was connected via the Three Notch Road, allowing for movement to Pensacola, FL. Two years later, the road was open and extended to Natchez, MS. As noted above, the path was originally meant it allowed for better mail delivery, but as the War of 1812 approached, it was widened into a war road. In 1813-14 the road was also used for the purpose of removing Creek People to the western deserts. There was a second Federal Road that went from Savannah, GA through Knoxville, TN. That one helped remove the Cherokee and open up their land for settlement/investment. The post Jett Thomas–May 13, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

Charles Gravier, comte de Vergennes, was France’s Foreign Minister from 1774 to 1787 during Louis XVI’s reign. France was still salty about having lost the Seven Years’ War. On this side of the pond we refer to it as the French and Indian War, but this was a global affair that took place mostly in Europe. France and Austria took on Great Britain and Prussia, and a few other nations joined in with the coalitions. Winston Churchill once called it the “First World War” because so many nations were in conflict on four different continents, and he’s not wrong in the bigger picture. At any rate, Charles Gravier (more properly referred to as “Vergennes”) hoped that by helping the Americans, he could weaken British dominance on the global stage. (You may remember we talked about this ten days ago.) In the end it turned out to be a mixed bag: while the Americans eventually were successful in their attempt to break away from Britain, France didn’t get a lot out of it by the time the dust settled, and the French finances (which were already weakened) were further damaged. And then, of course, the French people took the hint from America and had themselves a French Revolution. The post America Benefits From French Politics–May 12, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

Ugh. Before I tell you any more about The Grove, I have to take care of a couple of corrections. If you’ve listened to the episode already, you might be a little confused about Mike telling you that you’d be in Nova Scotia. Obviously he got his Halifaxes crossed. Second, after I’d completed today’s episode and finished all the post-production stuff, I discovered that Willie Jones’ first name isn’t pronounced the way I thought it was. While most people would make the same error I did and say it as “Will-E”, it’s actually pronounced “Wylie”. A reasonable mistake but I should have paid closer attention. I did see one place where it was spelled “Wyley” but didn’t make the connection. mea culpa. And yes, I do have a little more information about The Grove. A few years earlier, a young man named John Paul, who had recently turned up in America after having fled Scotland, spent some time at The Grove as a guest of the Jones family. Shortly thereafter he was granted some land in Frederick County, Virginia. At around this time, John Paul began appending “Jones” to his name, apparently in honor of Willie. And, of course, shortly thereafter he became a lieutenant in the newly-minted Continental Navy. The post Cornwallis Arrives In Halifax, NC–May 11, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

You may remember a couple of the Colonies chose to endorse independence without necessarily declaring it. This suggested that a formal declaration from the Colonies as a whole was likely imminent. You may also remember that motions by the Second Continental Congress needed to be voted on unanimously in order to pass, so they could “speak as one voice.” To that end, the Congress recommended today that Colonies with a government that wasn’t in favor of independence, form a new government that would be more likely to endorse independence. It’s not entirely clear how they expected the individual Colonies to effect this recommendation, but before long it wouldn’t be difficult at all. The post Change Comes From Within–May 10, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

Artemas Ward was the man left in charge of things when Washington made his trek to New York, so you know that this was a man that Washington trusted. As a result they corresponded with one another frequently. So it only makes sense that once in a while, the two would write to one another on the same day, and this was one of those days. Washington wrote to Ward his concern that the British would return to Boston and therefore the city should be fortified to protect against such an event, and Ward wrote to Washington about a pair of ships that had been captured in the Bay just a couple of days earlier. In an astonishing coincidence that would stun even Robert Ripley, Abigail Adams’ letter to John Adams from May 7 addresses both of these issues. For what it’s worth: Ward Circle, where the statue from today’s cover art is located, is in the middle of a peculiar looking traffic circle on Massachusetts Ave NW. There are no pedestrian crossings that will get you close to it, so if you do choose to make that particular pilgrimage, stop off at the National Cathedral first and ask for divine intervention, ’cause the traffic can easily make that a nightmare to cross. The post Words From Ward–May 9, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

The HMS Roebuck was a ship that tangled with the Americans numerous times. One advantage that she had over other British ships was a relatively shallow draught (vertical distance between keel and waterline), which proved helpful when it came to navigating some of the shallower waters off the American coast. The HMS Roebuck had already had an encounter just south of today’s events back in March. She was also involved in the Battle of Long Island, which took place during the summer, in a battle on the Hudson River in October 1776, and then in 1777 during another attempt to take Philadelphia, this time as part of a successful assault. There were other small battles that went on for another couple of years before she was finally recalled to England for a refit, after which she returned to America, successfully engaging again with the Americans. I In 1783 HMS Roebuck finished her war service and was recommissioned as a hospital ship for the French Revolutionary Wars. In the late 1790s she was recommissioned as a warship and participated in the Anglo-Dutch War and then the Napoleonic Wars. Once the Treaty of Amiens was ratified, Roebuck was was used as a guardship, then a receiving ship. Finally in 1811 she was formally decommissioned and broken up. HMS Roebuck was in action–most of it battles–for 37 years, a relatively long time for any ship of that era. Even though they were on the enemy side of the war, we can’t help but admire her record, which was quite glossed-over in this relatively small space. The post Thwarted On The Delaware–May 8, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

Abigail Adams had some thoughts when it came to arbitrary power, and how fragile it is. But you get all that from the episode itself. Instead, here in the show notes, I’m going to point out that I’m the one who took the photo used for today’s cover art. The painting hangs at the Massachusetts Historical Society, and because they keep it relatively dim there, you can see the reflection of the stairwell leading down to the main entrance. The white spot over Abigail’s head is the reflection of a light across the gallery, which is maybe 15 feet across. I’m standing at a slight angle so I’m not part of the reflection. (It’s also partially cropped here; I’m not that bad a photographer.) The painting was donated to the Society by one of John and Abigail’s descendants, who is coincidentally also named John. The docent I spoke with didn’t know whether there was a family tradition of naming sons “John” as homage to our Founding Father, but he conceded it’s certainly likely. The letter cited in today’s episode is part of the MHS collection, though it wasn’t on display the day Mike and I visited. MHS has literally thousands of Adams Family documents, and there are people there who work only with those documents. That’s their only job! The post Abigail, On Power–May 7, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

The advantage of having a large military force, as the British did, is that they were able to concentrate on multiple places at once with experienced soldiers. So while they had one group getting ready to move in on New York, they had others preparing to take on the southern states. Enter Sir Peter Parker and Lord George Cornwallis, who arrived in North Carolina on this day. Parker and Cornwallis’ mission was to take on the city of Charleston, in South Carolina. Why land in North Carolina? This is a guess, but at the time there really wasn’t anything between Wilmington and Charleston. None of what we now call The Grand Strand was developed to any significant extent. So staging everything in North Carolina, while simultaneously sending ships to observe Charleston, was the practical move to make. The post Two Men To The Carolinas–May, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

Given the fact that Valentine Efner (sometimes spelled “Effner”) skipped so many roll call votes in Congress, it’s a wonder he ran for Representative in the first place. We have to think that Efner was an informal kind of representative, and being in the rarefied air of Congress had him missing the farm life, to which he returned immediately after his term of office had ended. PS Pardon the brief notes, we had a veterinary emergency here that ate up most of my night. Fortunately our dog is well. The post Valentine Efner–May 5, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

May 4th is Rhode Island Independence Day, marking the date that one of our smallest states became the first of the Original Thirteen Colonies to declare its independence from Great Britain. Almost. Here—as the late, great Paul Harvey would say—is the rest of the story. All of the colonies were required to sign oaths of allegiance to King George III, or whoever was in charge at the time. On May 4, 1776, the Rhode Island Assembly passed the Act of Renunciation, which repealed that oath. They didn’t formally declare independence; that didn’t happen until mid-July, when they approved the Declaration as written by Thomas Jefferson and his fellow delegates. If you look closely at the cover art, you can see that there’s some material on the Renunciation that was X’ed out. Those are some accusations against the Crown that the Assembly apparently thought better of. I guess it wasn’t worth getting a new sheet of paper, then; they’d fix it in engrossing or at the printer’s. The post Rhode Island Goes First–May 4, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

George Washington was good at what he did because he’d studied military discipline, among other things. He read a lot about tactics and famous battles, and the importance of a well-trained army, and then he would meet with veterans and engage with them to learn what they thought. During the Seven Years’ War he asked to use some of those techniques with the men under his command. Sometimes, but by no means all the time, was he able to enact some of his ideas. So when Washington took over the Continental Army in July of 1775, he had some ideas about what that army should look like. And he had generally good counsel coming from other people who’d been through much of the same things as him. But the problem was that the recruits of the early days of the Revolution weren’t committed to anything more than a single year. They didn’t get much time to learn the things they should have, and as a result they left before they could learn everything they should have, or they did learn what was needed and left anyway. And those who were left behind were still pretty new, and had little sense of military discipline. So Washington decided he needed to get a little tougher. The post Washington Cracks Down–May 3, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

We’ve noted before that France had been helping the United Colonies for a little while, using gray markets and go-betweens in order to give themselves some plausible deniability. Britain and Spain were both a little salty about having been beaten by Britain in the past, so they were only too happy to have somebody else fighting them while they stood by and watched. And in the long run it didn’t cost them much to provide materials to the Colonies to help them get the job done. But while both nations committed money and supplies to the cause, it was at least another year before either of them would formally announce an alliance. This was more like an eighteenth century version of the Lend Lease Act that allowed us to arm Allied Powers in World War 2 before Pearl Harbor. The post Help From Abroad–May 2, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

When it comes to breaking away from England, there are a lot of “Firsts” involved. Just a few weeks ago, delegates from North Carolina are the first in the Continental Congress to have the authority to vote for Independence–as long as someone else proposes it first. Today, Massachusetts Bay becomes the first to declare itself independent from Britain, largely for financial reasons. Their proclamation reads like a protocol manual, plus the fact that their new rules have a start date of June 1 makes it all quite dry. And, of course, in just a couple of days, a third colony will get the credit for being the first to actually declare independence from Britain. The post Massachusetts Bay Cuts The Cord–May 1, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

Reverend Samuel Cooper has an interesting item in his family history. His grandfather was Samuel Sewall, a judge in the Province of Massachusetts Bay who was involved with the Salem witch trials in 1692-3. Now, to be fair, Sewall did apologize for his part in that bit of foolishness, and he’s also known for writing an essay in 1700 criticizing slavery. As far as Cooper himself, he was an active Patriot of the Revolutionary Era, who was good friends with many of the Founding Fathers. According to our friends at the Massachusetts Historical Society, when letters written by Governor Thomas Hutchinson and Lt. Governor Andrew Oliver were stolen in 1773, they wound up in Benjamin Franklin’s hands. Franklin in turn sent them to Samuel Cooper, who gave them to Thomas Cushing, the speaker of the Massachusetts assembly. Samuel Adams was the clerk of the Assembly and got to see them. They all knew that the letters were a bit of a bombshell (essentially, Hutchinson and Oliver were misleading Britain regarding conditions in the colonies), but because they were under strict orders not to copy or publish them, their hands were tied. Samuel Adams, however, came up with the idea of leaking the contents by way of a propaganda campaign in the Assembly that didn’t actually disclose the letters themselves. That was enough to create a political firestorm in Massachusetts, which led to General Gage implementing the Coercive Acts. Who stole the letters in the first place? It’s still not clear. The post Samuel Adams Is Spoiling For A Fight–April 30, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

It was called the Bayley Hazen Road, named after the two engineers who worked on it, and it was an attempt to make it easier for troops and equipment to get from New England to Canada. Prior attempts to move materiel were fraught with sickness and the need to navigate various forms of terrain, including waterways and deep mud, which made the journey so much longer that it wasn’t practical anymore. Bayley proposed creating a road that would not only make it easier to move things, it would cut the overall trip by about a third. What a great idea! thought George Washington. Get on it right away! In the span of six weeks, they had almost a third of the road completed. And then they realized there was an important tactical problem with the Bayley Hazen Road: like every other road, it runs in two directions. The post The Road To Canada–April 29, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

Lachlan McIntosh was inadvertently responsible for a world record that stood for several years. In 1776 and 1777, McIntosh got into a bitter dispute with the Speaker of the Georgia Provincial Congress, a man named Button Gwinnett. It began when McIntosh succeeded Gwinnett as commander of Georgia’s Continental Battalion. Both men were Patriots but they were part of differing factions in the Independence movement. Gwinnett left the military and became a delegate to the Continental Congress, eventually signing the Declaration of Independence. Later when he returned to Georgia he became Speaker of the Congress and later elected President and Commander-in-Chief of the Committee of Safety. In March of 1777 McIntosh addressed the Georgia assembly and denounced Gwinnett harshly. Gwinnett responded with a written challenge, demanding and apology or other satisfaction. McIntosh refused to back down, so Gwinnett challenged him to a duel. On May 16 the duel took place and the men fired their pistols nearly simultaneously. Each man shot the other in the leg, but Gwinnett’s wound broke his thigh bone, and before long it was clear that he’d been mortally wounded. Because Gwinnett died relatively young and so soon after he signed the Declaration, his autograph became a huge prize for autograph collectors, especially those who wanted to complete their colleciton of signatures from Declaration signers. There are only 51 known authentic examples, and whenever they go on the auction block they can fetch anywhere from $700,000 to over $1 Million. For a period in the early 1970s, an authentic signature of Gwinnett held the Guinness World Record for autograph value. It’s still the rarest and most valuable of Declaration signers, oftentimes because it’s the last signature needed to complete a set. Granted, that’s a long route to get to Lachlan McIntosh and his responsibility for a World Record, but now you have a cool story to tell. The post Recruiting In Georgia–April 28, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

Horatio Gates did move up quickly through the ranks, and partially because he knew George Washington well, but it was also because he had a pretty good handle on getting things done. As an Adjutant General, Gates was the man who ran the administrative side of the Continental Army, and is now thought of as the US Army’s first Adjutant General. He handled a lot of the logistics of keeping records and ordering supplies, and offered Washington wise counsel when it came to the Siege of Boston. In that respect it appears that he prevented Washington from acting rashly now and then. But Gates was anxious to get a field position, and just a few weeks after this date, he was assigned to the Canadian Department with the new rank of Major General. Some intramural disputes followed as the Continental Army began to retreat from Canada, but were quickly settled. Unfortunately Gates’ ambition got the better of him, and as the year wore on, he left his troops to attempt to talk the Congress into having him replace Washington as Commander in Chief. Later, Horatio Gates was present when General Burgoyne surrendered at Saratoga. He tried to parlay this into political gain, but his status began to falter for the rest of the war, to the point where he was nearly court-martialed. Shortly thereafter he retired and lived in Virginia, and then New York City, until his death in 1806. He was buried in the Trinity Church graveyard in lower Manhattan, but the exact site of his grave is unknown. The post Gates Moves Up Quickly–April 27, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

Jonathan Trumbull was first and—for a while—the only Colonial Governor to support the American Revolution. (Most of the other colony leaders either didn’t hold that title, or remained quiet, as if hedging their bets.) Througout the Revolution, Trumbull supported the troops in general and George Washington in particular, and was often a close advisor to Washington on military matters. So it was a little bit of a surprise when Washington wrote to Trumbull, noting some of the problems he’d had with Trumbull’s recent decision to move a bunch of soldiers northward. On a side note: there aren’t a lot of portraits of Govenor Trumbull around. That’s one of the reason I’ve used this picture before. The other reason is that I just think it’s neat. The post George Washington Has Concerns–April 26, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

Thomas Stone was a delegate to the Second Continental Congress who served with strict instuctions to “arrive at a happy settlement and lasting amity” with the Mother Country. What’s more, he and his fellow delegates were told not to vote for any proposition that declared independence. Fortunately, just a few days before Richard Henry Lee put forth the resolution for Independence in early June 1776, the Maryland government removed that restriction, so the delegates could vote however they wanted. And yes, they did vote. The post Thomas Stone Writes Home–April 25, 1775 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

It may seem as though a large number of men were suddenly being appointed as South Carolina delegates to the Continental Congress, but in fact they weren’t all new appointees. Some of them had already been delegates and were re-appointed. It’s also worth noting that while many of them were supporters of Colonial rights, they were also under instruction to oppose motions for independence. Specifically, when Richard Henry Lee’s motion comes down on June 7, Edward Rutledge specifically was told to oppose it. According to lore, his superiors in South Carolina’s government weren’t sure that the time was “ripe” for independence. Arthur Middleton was not only a supporter of Colonial rights, he was said to think ruthlessly when it came to Loyalists. Thomas Heyward didn’t distinguish himself very much in the Congress but in 1780 he was captured by the British and held for a year. The loss of the year and his “property” (i.e., slaves) made him a martyr for the Revolution. Thomas Lynch was instrumental in helping George Washington organize his army in the early days, but illness kept him from signing the Declaration of Independence. The post New Kids In Town–April 24, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

William Henry Drayton was born in 1742 on his family’s plantation just outside of Charleston. The plantation was dedicated to growing rice. In 1764 he married Dorothy Golightly. In the early 1770s he was a Loyalist and enjoyed some of the perks that came with it. Then in 1774 he wrote a pamphlet supporting a Continental Congress and lost all his government jobs. That, go figure, radicalized him to the Patriot cause and he dedicated the rest of his life to it. William Henry Drayton died in Berkeley County, SC at the age of 37. His home, Drayton Hall, is now within Charleston city limits and operates as a museum. The post South Carolina’s Small Declaration–April 23, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

North Carolina’s Orange County Regiment went through a lot of change in a very short amount of time. First they were divided, then reabsorbed into a different group, all in the span of about two weeks. Fortunately things stablilized for them then, but the resulting Hillsborough District Brigade of militia saw a lot of action over the next several years in the Carolinas and in Georgia. By the time the war ended, Hillsborough was one of the few groups still standing. But chances are, if there was an important battle in that part of the world, this group was part of it. The post Reorganizing in North Carolina–April 22, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

When Henry Knox wrote to George Washington apologizing for getting to Noweich,Connecicut so late, he had a pretty good excuse: he spent a bunch of money on hiring people to move materials down; and those people had trouble getting the job done. But then Henry Knox also tells the story of leaving the caravan briefly to look at Newport RI and determine whether it’s defensible. Imagine how he felt when, after he spent two days figuring out the five best places to stand when defending Newport, he has to explain why he lost those two days afterward. But he did take the time to frame it as an activity that surely would make the Commander-in-Chief look better. The post Letters From New England–April 21, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

If nothing else, the tenacity of the Continental Congress has to be admired, because sending a delegation to Canada, especially after the recent New Year’s Eve disaster in Quebec, and then the “who knows how well it went” trip in March, was a sign of either eternal optimism or an inability to get the hint. It was probably a little of Column A and a little of Column B. At any rate, Ben Franklin, Samuel Chase and Charles Carroll headed up to Montrèal to see if relations with Canada could be smoothed over a little bit. And perhaps they could, but the Canadians still weren’t interested in the events going on to their south. The post Once More To Canada–April 20, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

It seems like only a year ago we were marking the date the war began at Lexington and Concord, and how it became Patriots’ Day. So we’re here once again: the battle ended with the British retreating into the city of Boston, and holding siege there for the better part of a year, until Washington was given several cannons brought down from Fort Ticonderoga, which vastly improved his shooting range. A year later, Reverend Jonas Clark marked the day with a sermon that is nearly 40 pages long in its published version. He used a lot of harsh rhetoric in his sermon, casting the British as though they were Satan’s owm minions: They approach with the morning’s light; and morelike murderers and cut-throats, than the troops of a christian king, without provocation, without warning, when no war was proclaimed, they draw the sword of violence, upon the inhabitants of this town, and with a cruelty and barbarity, which would have made the most hardened savage blush, they shed INNOCENT BLOOD! The sermon does come back around to God, noting that: And from the nineteenth of April, 1775, we may venture to predict, will be dated, in future history, THE LIBERTY or SLAVERY of the AMERICAN WORLD, according as a sovereign God shall see fit to smile, or frown upon the interesting cause, in which we are engaged. So…God picks favorites, so long as we humble ourselves before Him and trust in His name. Incidentally, I first heard about the children walking from Acton to Concord on the Julie Mason Show, on SiriusXM’s POTUS Channel. she had very fond memories of this, so I dug around a little to discover whether this activity was still going on all these years later. If anything, it’s grown! The post Patriots’ Day–April 19, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

When you have seven ships and you encounter a single ship belonging to the enemy, the Battle of Block Island teaches us that it’s still possible to be overconfident. Some people tried to frame the Battle of Block Island as a draw, but those people really weren’t paying attention. The HMS Glasgow took some damage, but far more damage was done to the ships that engaged her: The Cabot had its steering disabled and mostly just got in the way, the Alfred lost its tiller as well and also served as an obstacle. Providence held back and was undamaged; Columbus came in late and her fire was ineffective; likewise the Andrew Doria, which got stuck behind the Alfred. And the Glasgow got away, besides. Between Esek Hopkins’ earlier disobeying of his orders and now this debacle, among other transgressions, he was formally censured. By 1778 he had been dismissed altogether from the Navy. The post Battle at Block Island–April 18, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

One of the things I really appreciate about reading documents from this era is just how polite they were; George Washington’s letter to the NY Committee of Safety, when you read between the lines is an admonition wondering if that august body had lost their damn minds. One of the best examples of this is the Declaration of Independence itself. As Aaron Sorkin describes it in an episode of The West Wing: [N]ever has a war been so courteously declared. It was on parchment with calligraphy, and “Your Highness, we beseech you on this day in Philadelphia to bite me, if you please.” However, we’re getting ahead of ourselves; that doesn’t happen for another couple of months (and not when you think!). At any rate, Washington was correct in his assessment that it didn’t make a ton of sense for New York to supply the British while at the same time opposing them. At the same time he didn’t accuse them directly; he played it very cool and suggested that the NY Committee of Safety could get a lot of credit if they’d do as he suggested. The post Washington Writes A Protest Letter–April 17, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

Mercy Otis Warren doesn’t get nearly enough love in our history books, and barely enough of it here, besides. Having said that, our episode a little over a year ago was a fun little tribute. Mercy Otis Warren was a playwright, a pamphleteer and a poet before, during and after the Revolution. Some of her plays were thinly veiled attacks on the British. She was self-taught and pretty brilliant at it, considering that she was one of the first to advocate for a Bill of Rights (though nobody knew she’d written the piece advocating one until her great-great-grandson found a document tying the pamphlet to her). And while this episode focuses on correspondence between her and John Adams, she frequently exchanged letters with George Washington, John Hancock, Patrick Henry, Samuel Adams, and Thomas Jefferson. But her best relationship was with John Adams, who she looked to as a wiritng mentor. It was at his suggestion that she began writing a history of the Revolution while it was still being fought. She didn’t need primary sources to write her history, she was the primary source. At worst, she was getting it second-hand from the members of the Continental Congress and local leaders. Mercy was married to James Warren, and I mention that here because oftentimes she’s thought to be the widow of Dr. Joseph Warren, who died at Bunker Hill. In fact, despite having the same name, Joseph was not related to James, nor to Mercy. Incidentally, Mike gives a shout-out to the Massachusetts Historical Society, which is a fascinating repository of documents and items related to the history of the state, but which has a special lens on the Revolution, especially this year. So I figured I’d do the same here, along with a link. If you’re in town, it’s not to be missed. And it’s free, though donations are encouraged. Go check them out and from there it’s a short walk to Fenway Park, where you can catch a Red Sox game. (Alas, they were playing away games while we were in town.) The post John and Mercy–April 16, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

The Fourth North Carolina Regiment got into some interesting battles, but in retrospect it feels as though they didn’t get a ton of love from the Army in general. (My delaying the show notes probably doesn’t do anything for their ego either, but I was so tired that I was practically hallucinating. But I didn’t want to delay the episode drop, and I didn’t want to do meaningless show notes. And I do thank you for your patience.) Not long after they organized, they were moved to the Northern Department of the Continental Army, then after a couple of years they were switched back to the Southern Department. Thomas Polk was removed from command without being told about it. They were absorbed by another regiment at one point and then dissolved altogether when the enlistments ran out, so the leaders had to go and recruit more men, meaning they weren’t around when the British took Charleston, SC. Today’s cover art is the grave of Thomas Polk. That small plate reading “129” is the lot number; there used to be a lovely plaque there identifying Polk as one of the signers of the Mecklenburg Declaration, but it was reportedly stolen. See? No respect. We’ll hear from them later this year when we talk about the Battle of Fort Moultrie. The post The Fourth NC Regiment–April 15, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

When Abigail Adams wrote her “remember the ladies” letter on March 31, she wasn’t just filling the page with anything that came into her head. Abigail Adams was quite intelligent and John treated her as an intellectual equal, seeking out her counsel on many matters. This in an era in which such things are rare. (And shame on us for giving it short shrift.) This also means that John’s reply, which Mike talks about today, was in earnest, if it was a little naïve in retrospect. Mike also mentions that he and I were at the Massachusetts Historical Society last week, which is true, and we hope to have some material to share with you over the next few weeks. In addition, we shot a bunch of video which will need some editing, after which we’ll give you our tour of Old Boston. Or maybe Mike’s tour; I don’t appear on camera at all. Try to live with that disappointment. The post John Adams’ Rebuttal–April 14, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

When George Washington arrives in New York, things aren’t quite the way he’d like them to be, but he doesn’t really have time to worry about that. Construction of Fort Defiance had already begun, and before long the building of Fort Stirling would commence. Even though they were outmanned and outgunned, Washington was going to make sure that if a British victory were to happen in New York, it was going to be a Pyrrhic victory. About Fort Stirling: like Fort Defiance, nothing remains of the original structure. When the British evacuated the city in 1783, the locals destroyed whatever remained of the fort. It was originally named Fort Half-Moon because of its shape but it was renamed in honor of William Alexander, who was also known as Lord Stirling. There remains a historical marker in the ground for this fort, at the intersection of Clark Street and Columbia Heights; when traveling west on Clark Street it will be on your right, protected by an iron fence (it’s right behind the fence and easy to see). When the park was created and dedicated in 1925, the Fort Greene Chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution donated the granite tablet that marks the fort’s site. The post Washington Arrives In New York–April 13, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

The Halifax Resolves was the first official action in which Independence from Great Britain was actually called for and approved. I have to admit that in earlier years, when driving up and down Interstate 95, when I got to Halifax County in North Carolina, I’d see a sign saying that this county is “Where the Spirit of Independence Was Born.” And this didn’t make a lot of sense to me: Most of the action early on was in Boston. Philadelphia is where the Declaration was written and signed. Richard Henry Lee, who proposed Independence, was from Virginia. How does Halifax County get to make this claim? Listen, my children, and you shall hear. The post The Halifax Resolves–April 12, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

While there were a lot of smaller things going on on this day in 1776, there are typically multiple things going on for any given day. We often have to make choices regarding what we’re going to concentrate on, and don’t think we don’t feel a twinge of regret when we spot something else that happened on thus-and-such a date and had a moment of “Man, I wish we’d done that one.” So today we were fortunate in that there were several smaller items going on, but we didn’t have to use up a lot of audio real estate to cover all of them. It’s nice to have the luxury of telling all the stories you’ve got for a day. Incidentally: Mike and I are in Boston this week, absorbing history, interviewing people and shooting video for you to enjoy in a few weeks when we’ve finished editing it. It’s an extra dimension to the show that we hope you’ll enjoy. The post Notes From All Over–April 11, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

The construction of Fort Defiance in the Red Hook section of Brooklyn made perfect sense. That part of the peninsula sticks out into New York Harbor and provides an excellent view of anything that might be sailing in or out. Red Hook comes from the Dutch Roode Hoek, “hoek” translating to “point”, which can still be seen in modern-day maps. The whole area, what we now call Red Hook and Gowanus, was settled by the Dutch in the 1630s. Red Hook was some swampy land when the Dutch moved in. But the Dutch know something about swampy land, and they got straight to work, filling in lakes and re-channeling waterways. They began farming the land, including orchards of fruit trees. After the war broke out and the Continental Army drove the British from Boston, George Washington sent Brigadier General William Alexander to Brooklyn to see what could be done defensively. A plan was developed to build two forts along the Brooklyn Heights, about a mile and a half apart. Fort Greene would be the furthest east, Fort Defiance would be the furthest west. Across the channel on Governor’s Island, another fort would be built, so that British ships could be fired on from both sides. Now, when we say “fort,” we’re not talking about something made of wood or stone. Plenty of those did exist, but not here. This was more like a breastworks built of earth and stone, which had a few cannons near the top. There were three of these breastworks connected by trenches, and they took up most of the island on which they stood. (Incidentally, Mike was correct about the island not existing anymore; the space was filled in and is now part of the larger land.) This took only a few days to put together; the fort at Governor’s Island was more like what one would expect to see. By the time the British arrived, the Continental Army was quite ready from a defensive standpoint. But the British were much larger in number and had a Navy besides. Stay tuned; it’s going to be an exciting summer. The post A Fort Grows in Brooklyn–April 10, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

We need your love! Don’t forget to share this show with your friends. Likewise, share it with your enemies; maybe they’ll become your friends as a result. The Lees were a very prominent family in Virginia, connected to most major events in that era of American History. So it makes sense that Francis Lightfoot Lee sees American Independence on the horizon, and that it was Richard Henry Lee who first put the question (or, as the Founding Fathers wrote it, “The Question”) before Congress. Incidentally, it’s worth noting that Francis and Richard were the only brothers to sign the Declaration of Indepenence. The post Letter to Virginia–April 9, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

Esek Hopkins wasn’t just the Commander In Chief of the Continental Navy; he was the only Commander In Chief of the Continental Navy. As we noted just a day ago, the navy was disbanded shortly after the war (sold off, you may recall) until a few years later, when the US Congress decided we needed a US Navy and we had to start all over again. In the 1760s he was a merchant who once took on a slave ship. Unfortunately he didn’t really know what he was doing, and more than half the slaves died enroute to the West Indies; furthermore the surviving captives were in such poor health that they sold for very little. For a couple of months, in 1775, Esek Hopkins was appointed as a brigadier general to shore up forces in Rhode Island, but two months later he was appointed Commander in Chief of the Continental Navy authorized by the Continental Congress to protect American commerce. His specific orders, which were issued on January 5, 1776, were: You are instructed with the utmost diligence to proceed with the said fleet to sea and if the winds and weather will possibly admit of it to proceed directly for Chesapeake Bay in Virginia and when nearly arrived there you will send forward a small swift sailing vessel to gain intelligence….If…you find that they are not greatly superior to your own you are immediately to enter the said bay, search out and attack, take or destroy all the naval force of our enemies that you may find there. If you should be so fortunate as to execute this business successfully in Virginia you are then to proceed immediately to the southward and make yourself master of such forces as the enemy may have both in North and South Carolina…Notwithstanding these particular orders, which it is hoped you will be able to execute, if bad winds, or stormy weather, or any other unforeseen accident or disaster disenable you so to do, you are then to follow such courses as your best Judgment shall suggest to you as most useful to the American cause and to distress the Enemy by all means in your power. Having been given eight small ships to carry this out, Hopkins instead read the last part of his orders very closely, and did exactly that part of it. Instead of hanging around Virginia and the Carolinas, he made for the Bahamas, where he executed the raid on New Providence. While this move proved advantageous to the colonies as a whole, the Southern Colonies were especially upset and the rifts between them and the Northern Colonies got a little wider. Ultimately (though not right away) Hopkins was politically damaged for this action. It didn’t help that Hopkins was also accused of torturing British prisoners in his care, but that led to a military policy of immediate reporting of any misconduct committed by any person acting in the service of the United States. The post Mutiny(ish) Leads To Bounty–April 8, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

Captain John Barry was commanding the Lexington, looking for Lord Dunmore’s fleet when they more or less stumbled on the HMS Edward off the coast of the Virginia Capes. By most accounts the battle went on for two hours and included the Edward trying to lure the Lexington into the capes, though it’s not clear why. Possibly there was some help there in the form of other ships or land-based guns. And possibly because being in the capes meant that geographically, the Lexington wouldn’t have as much room to maneuver. But in the end the Lexington was victorious. Capturing a ship from the world’s mightiest navy, and bringing that ship back to Philadelphia, was a huge morale boost to Continental forces, especially given that the Continental Navy was so small and newly-established. Plus, John Barry became a celebrity and eventually was promoted to Commodore. The post Our First Win At Sea–April 7, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

We’ve mentioned a few times that boycotts and import restrictions didn’t have a huge impact on the British economy. After all, the British Empire was huge and America just didn’t have the financial clout to make such things hurt. The real issue, many Britons thought, was that America had the impudence to act at all. How dare these mere colonists think that they can behave in such a dreadful manner, what with the wasting of the tea and circumventing our governors? Stuff like that, you know? And it was because of that attitude that many people in Parliament weren’t so much interested in reconciliation as they were interested in punishment. But America had gotten used to being so far from Britain, and the harder that England held on, the more America just slipped out of the grasp, like trying to hold a fistful of sand. The post Brits: Keep Out!–April 6, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

The war was less than a year old, but heroes were already beginning to emerge, as we learn from contemporary writings. The arrival of George Washington in Providence, RI, was considered a big event each time he came through. In fact, it was such a big deal that the website for Stephen Hopkins’ house in Providence notes that “George Washington wasa guest here. Twice.” I suppose they could have hung up two “George Washington Slept Here” signs but nobody would get it. Then again, “George Washington Slept Here” isn’t quite the trope it used to be. Leave me alone, I’m old. And get off my lawn. Hopkins, for what it’s worth, was an important person in his own right, having been central to the development of the colony and then the early days of the state. If you visit the house, though, be forewarned that it’s not in the same place it was when Hopkins lived there; it’s been moved twice since he was there. Although, to be fair, it’s always been on that street. The post Mr. Washington Goes to Providence–April 5, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

To say the Washington left the Longfellow House is putting the cart before the horse, because Washington was in it before Longfellow. The house originally belonged to John Vassall Jr, a Loyalist who had the good sense to get out of town when the shooting started. From July 16, 1775 until this day in 1776, Washington occupied it as his home and his headquarters. In 1791 Washington’s apothecary Andrew Craigie purchased the house and made a major addition to it, the only big cosmetic change to the house. After Craigie’s death, his widow rented out various rooms to supplement what little income she had, and one of her tenants was Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, who eventually became the owner in 1843 when it was purchased for him as a wedding gift. The Longfellow family was the last to live in the house; some time after his death the family established the Longfellow Trust to provide for the house’s preservation, and in 1972 the house and its possessions were donated to the National Park Service. The post Washington Departs Cambridge–April 4, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

I mentioned briefly that Elias Boudinot Caldwell was a member of the Society for the Colonization of Free People of Color of America (to the extent that anyone can say that briefly), and I though I’d get a little deeper into that organization here. The group was founded in 1816 by Robert Finley, along with Caldwell and Francis Scott Key, to encourage and support the repatriation of freeborn people of color and emancipated slaves to sub-Saharan Africa. Their feeling was that free people of color could not integrate into American society. It was also thought that free Blacks running around would incite still-enslaved Blacks to escape or rebel. So…why not relocate them? The group, which later became known as the American Colonization Society, thought they’d be preventing a civil war from breaking out. In fact, some historians think they may have hastened its onset. What’s more, only a few thousand African Americans out of millions, eventually made the trip to (what would become) Liberia. Worse still, they were kind of bad at it. Transporting people to Liberia was very costly, and close to half the people who arrived died from tropical diseases. And for all that, the ACS didn’t officially dissolve until 1964. The post Elias Boudinot Caldwell–April 3, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

Just a few days ago, Congress passed a resolution that George Washington should be thanked for his efforts in Boston, and that a Congressional Medal should be issued to him. Specifically, the resolution read: Resolved, That the thanks of this Congress, in their own name, and in the name of the thirteen United Colonies, whom they represent, be presented to His Excellency General Washington, and the officers and soldiers under his command, for their wise and spirited conduct in the siege and acquisition of Boston; and that a medal of gold be struck in commemoration of this great event, and presented to His Excellency; and that a committee of three be appointed to prepare a letter of thanks and a proper device for the medal. They did do all this, but frankly striking a congressional medal (or any other type, presumably) during the Revolutionary War was kind of a low priority (in addition to the other issues Mike cites), but it did eventually get done. An unknown Greek poet, possibly from the 1st century CE, once said: Ὀψὲ θεῶν ἀλέουσι μύλοι, ἀλέουσι δὲ λεπτά.The millstones of the gods grind late [slowly], but they grind fine. Clearly this guy knew how governments operate. The post Thanks, George–April 2, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

re: the title, I regret nothing. Nathanael Greene (you’ll also see it alteratively spelled as “Nathaniel”) was one of Washington’s trusted generals, largely because he had a keen mind for military tactics, but also because he had high expectations for his soldiers. In addition to drilling them regularly, he also insisted that they keep as clean as possible, including things like maintaining a clean-shaven face. Card-playing and swearing were also prohibited. As a result, his men stood out among the others when George Washington arrived at Cambridge, and he decided that he needed a little more of that in the Continental Army. Greene followed Washington to New York but afterward he began to take charge of military matters in the south. When Washington’s troops moved to the Valley Forge area in the winter of 1776, the disciplinary problems Greene had helped solve began to arise again, and Washington had to turn to another man to get his troops back in order. We’ll look at that as we get into that time of the year. The post Gang Greene–April 1, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

In discussing the life of Jane Randolph Jefferson, I mentioned during the episode that Thomas Jefferson rarely discussed her. This is not, however, to suggest that he lacked affection for her, or that he was somehow ashamed of her. There are family remembrances and contemporary biographies that show that Jane was a revered family member. It’s also worth noting that Thomas Jefferson, unlike Benjamin Franklin, was not in the habit of retaining correspondence, even with people important to him. Jane is credited by many historians as the person responsible for his love of music and for his writing abilities. And after all, he didn’t leave his family home until it burned down. Furthermore Thomas named his second daughter after his mother (his first was named after his wife). The post Farewell, Mother Jefferson–March 31, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

Jurist Jonathan Belcher was born in Boston. He was the second son of Jonathan Belcher and Mary Partridge, Belcher entered Harvard College, where in 1728 he received a Bachelor of Arts degree in Divinity Studies. In 1730 he entered the Middle Temple, London, to read law, and in 1734 was called to the English bar. In the meantime he had been admitted as a fellow-commoner to Trinity College, Cambridge, where in 1733 he received another master’s degree, this time in mathematics. He later received a third master’s degree from the College of New Jersey (now Princeton University). In 1754, Belcher was sent to Nova Scotia to become the first Chief Justice of the Nova Scotia Supreme Court. Prior to Belcher’s arrival Nova Scotia had no formally trained law officers. This meant that he was not only interpreting the law there, he was oftentimes writing it. Belcher also served on the Nova Scotia Council. On July 28, 1755, he published a document which concluded that deportation of the Acadians was both authorized and required under the law. This is the decision that got him in hot water. From 1761 to 1763, he was also Lieutenant Governor of Nova Scotia, spending the last three years of that period as Acting Governor when Henry Ellis did not fulfill his duties. He negotiated the peace that led to the Burying the Hatchet ceremony in Nova Scotia. Jonathan Belcher died in office in 1776, and is buried in the Old Burying Ground in Halifax. The post Death Of A Belcher–March 30, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

While we’re focusing on one letter written by Benjamin Franklin today, written to Anthony Todd, it’s rather impressive the sheer number and breadth of letters written by, or to, Franklin during his lifetime as a statesman. There is a collaborative effort going on between Yale University and the American Philospohical Society, among others, to search, collect and publish the various works of Benjamin Franklin. So far over forty volumes have been published since 1959, and the scholars involved are pretty sure that number will surpass 50. Important to this effort is the fact that Franklin saved a lot of his correspondence specifically for the sake of posterity. As a result we have perhaps a more complete collection of what historians like to call “primary sources” of materials than for any other Founding Father. What’s more, Franklin didn’t just dash off quick notes; he treated them like miniature works of art and crafted their composition. This came in handy when he edited the first draft of the Declaration of Independence. It was his suggestion that the phrase “We hold these truths to be self-evident” whereas Jefferson had described them as “sacred and undeniable.” The full text of Franklin’s letter can be found here. The post From One Postal Official To Another–March 29, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

Juan Bautista de Anza is considered one of the founding fathers of Spanish California. He was born in 1736 in New Spain (what we now call Sonora, Mexico) into a family of military leaders. Most of his military actions involved taking on Native Americans while he explored what is now known as Arizona. Near the end of the 1760s Spain began to colonize Alta California, which was basically anything not considered Baja California. They took a two-pronged approach; one expedition ran up the coast at sea, which turned out to be quite difficult because the winds were going the wrong way. The other path was over land, which was a little more direct and allowed the Spanish to establish several missions along the way. In 1772 Anza proposed a new expedtion to Alta California, which was eventually approved by the King of Spain, and in January 1774 he set out from a place a little bit south of present-day Tuscon, Arizona. By April he’d reached Monterey, California before returning to the place he’d started. October 1775 brought a new start to the expedition, this time with the goal of transporting colonists to Monterey. Having done that, he continued north until arriving at the arroyo of San Joseph Cupertino, which is now known as Stevens Creek. Two days later he’d spotted the San Francisco Estuary and identified the sites for the Presidio of San Francisco and Mission San Francisco de Asis. Having established an overland route, Anza returned the way he’d come. Unfortunately in 1781 the Yuma Tribe closed off the trail at the Colorado River, which stayed closed until the 1820s, meaning that if you wanted to get to Alta California from Baja, for over 40 years you had to do it by sea. The post He Built This City–March 28, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

The image in today’s cover art is an engraving of Citadel Hill, around 1780. Citadel Hill is a very popular historic site in Halifax, and while four forts have been built on this site, none of them have ever had to withstand a direct attack. In a couple of instances, structures near the Citadel were attacked, but never the building itself. It’s possible that the forts that were erected on the site served as deterrents. The first Citadel was built in 1749. Fortifications were constructed on this hill to protect against raids by the French, colonial Akadians, and local tribes, especially the Mi’kmaq (pronounce it “MicMac”). By 1761 the fort was in ruins and a second, larger Citadel was built in 1776. This is the one in the artwork. While the garrison was always on alert, again it was never attacked, and by 1784 it was again in ruins. The third Citadel was built starting in 1796, when the old one was dismantled. This one was larger still and looked much like the current model, except it had more earthworks. During the War of 1812 some quick renovations were made in case the Americans attacked, but again the whole thing fell to ruin by 1825. Construction for the current Citadel began in 1828. It was a huge masonry-construction star-shaped fort that took 28 years to finish. An incident in the nearby waters nearly dragged the Citadel into the American Civil War but again there were no attacks on the fort. Eventually it was restored by historians and in 1956 it opened as a historic site and home to the Halifax Army Museum. In the 1990s it was restored again to its 1869 appearance and is maintained as such. The grounds of the Halifax Citadel are open year round. From spring to fall, a living history program features re-enactors portraying the 78th Highland Regiment (stationed at Halifax between 1869 and 1871), the 78th Highlanders (Halifax Citadel) Pipe Band, the Third Brigade of the Royal Artillery, soldiers’ wives, and civilian tradespeople. Parks Canada also hosts several re-enactment events each year by volunteers of the Brigade of the American Revolution and the two living history associations. The Citadel’s role in the history of Halifax and North America is communicated through guided and self-guided tours, audio-visual presentations, and various exhibits. On average, the citadel sees over 200,000 visitors annually. A ceremonial firing of the noon gun is conducted daily by staff, and continues year-round, even when the site is closed to visitors. The artillery is also used for formal occasions such as 21-gun salutes. The “Army Museum”, located in the Citadel’s Cavalier Block, displays a rare collection of weapons, medals, and uniforms exploring Nova Scotia’s army history. It is an independent non-profit museum, and staff work in close partnership with the Citadel staff and Parks Canada. In July 2006, the Halifax Citadel celebrated the 100th anniversary of the withdrawal of the last British military forces from Canada. The Citadel hosted over 1,000 re-enactors from around the world. Approaching the Christmas season, Citadel Hill annually hosts a “Victorian Christmas”. Visitors are treated to crafts, carolers, and games, as well as a visit from Santa Claus. Ghost tours are held at the fort in the weeks leading up to Halloween. Ghost tours! Nobody ever died in battle there, but we’re doing ghost tours. Fantastic. The post A New Home For The Royal Navy–March 27, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.

Samuel Ward Sr. was a farmer and a politician, the governor of the Colony of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations, and a Justice of that colony’s Supreme Court. As a younger man, Ward believed in governments issuing hard money rather than paper, often battling with Stephen Hopkins over this issue. Because of this specific topic, the two men became bitter rivals and for several terms they alternated being governor of Rhode Island. His final term as governor ended in 1767, at which he left politics to work on his farm. But in 1774 he was called back into service as a delegate to the Continental Congress. Fortunately, he and Hopkins had buried the hatchet and the two were more friendly with one another. I say “fortunately” because Stephen Hopkins was also called to join the Congress. Ward died in Philadelphia and was buried there, but over 80 years later he was moved to the Common Burying Ground in Newport, RI and reinterred there. The post A Death In Rhode Island–March 26, 1776 appeared first on 250 and Counting.