As spring gave way to another sultry summer in Philadelphia in 1775, the city buzzed with activity, and rumors swirled around the Second Continental Congress. All talked about what the American response would be to the latest developments in the ever-increasing hostility between Great Britain and the colonies. Shortly before Congress convened on May 10, the rapidly rising tensions centered on the British occupation of Boston had finally sparked a war. In the early morning hours of April 19, the British had sent troops from their base in Boston to seize the stores of arms and ammunition in nearby Concord and two leaders of the Sons of Liberty — Samuel Adams and John Hancock. Gen. Thomas Gage, the British commander, did not yet know that his operation had already been compromised before the first troops embarked on their short trip across the Charles River. The Sons of Liberty had an effective intelligence network and knew many details of the British orders in advance. They used express riders — most notably, Paul Revere — to spread the word throughout the area between Boston and Concord that the British were on the move. In response to the warnings, local militias mustered in the predawn hours and waited. The British first had to pass through Lexington, where they came face to face with the armed minutemen. At some point during the short, tense exchange, the “shot heard ’round the world” was fired, and the war that seemed to be looming over the colonies for years had finally begun. After a second deadly encounter, the British army retreated to Boston, and the swelling patriot militia units began hastily occupying the heights overlooking the city.1
When this explosive news reached the delegates who were about to travel to Philadelphia, reactions were mixed. For his part, George Washington was apprehensive of what lay ahead. He foresaw that the killing of British soldiers would bring the full force of imperial retribution down on the colonies. Yet despite the sense of foreboding, he felt the familiar sensation of duty calling. He wrote to George William Fairfax, “Unhappy it is though to reflect, that a Brother’s Sword has been sheathed in a Brother’s breast, and that, the once happy and peaceful plains of America are either to be drenched with Blood, or Inhabited by Slaves. Sad alternative! But can a virtuous Man hesitate in his choice?”2 However uneasy Washington was about the colonies’ future, his fellow Virginians had been preparing for war. In the previous months, county militias had begun to organize, calling themselves “independent companies.” Washington seemed the obvious choice to lead them, and by March, five of the companies had formally requested that he take command. Also in March the Virginia Convention had voted to put the colony on a military footing. From that point forward, Washington had rapidly become one of the foremost leaders of the colonial resistance movement. He recognized and accepted, if not relished, this fact. Upon arriving in Philadelphia as a member of Virginia’s delegation to the Continental Congress, Washington made a habit of attending the sessions in his uniform as a physical demonstration of his willingness to serve if called upon.3
Washington stood out from the crowd of delegates assembled in the Continental Congress. He was a full head taller than anyone else in the room and the only one there in uniform. He was also the only native-born American with any real military experience, which made him the obvious choice to command an American army. Moreover, that Washington was a Virginian implied that he would marshal the support of the southern colonies to what had previously been a Massachusetts effort. The only other possible candidates with significant active military experience besides Washington were Charles Lee and Horatio Gates. Both were professionally trained officers who had served in European armies; however, they were British by birth. The image of a British expatriate at the head of America’s brave volunteers would have sent the wrong message. Washington was the natural choice.
After Congress unanimously approved John Adams’s motion naming Washington as the commander of the yet-to-be-formed army, the overwrought new general gave a short speech in which he made a key point intended to be ingrained in the collective American memory: “[B]ut lest some unlucky event should happen unfavourable to my reputation, I beg it may be remembered by every Gent[lema]n in the room, that I this day declare with the utmost sincerity, I do not think myself equal to the Command I [am] honored with.”4 The case for the sincerity of his self-doubt is bolstered by his letters to both Martha and John, his favorite younger brother, in which he described his appointment as “a trust too great for my capacity.”5 Interestingly he was even more descriptive to his brother-in-law Burwell Bassett: “I am now Imbarked on a tempestuous Ocean from whence, perhaps, no friendly harbor is to be found. . . . It is an honour I wished to avoid. . . . I can answer for three things, a firm belief in the justice of our Cause — close attention to the prosecution of it — and the strictest Integrity — If these cannot supply the places of Ability & Experience, the cause will suffer & more than probably my character along with it, as reputation derives its principal support from success.”6
Even if Washington was trying to delude himself into believing that he really did not have any ambitions for this high command, despite his doing nothing to discourage the buzz about his uniformed appearance and his military fame in Congress, these strikingly honest letters reveal his deep apprehension regarding his ability to meet the challenge. This ambivalence further reflects his attempts to balance his pride with the sense of honor that he had learned from his reading, particularly the courtesy manuals and histories that documented the conduct of the great men and women of the past.
Although his diary entries for the date of his appointment are unhelpful in that they provide no insight into Washington’s state of mind, one can only imagine how heavily he felt the weight of the task that bore down on him. The days of his unbridled martial enthusiasm and over-brimming self-confidence were long since behind him. He was supremely responsible for the conduct of a war against the most powerful military force on earth, and there was little margin for error. He had not previously led an entire army, and now before he could lead this one, he had to build it first. How was he ever going to do it? Washington had to compensate for his lack of experience quickly, for the war had already begun, and his army was beginning to take shape in Cambridge. As had become his habit when faced with a new challenge, Washington turned inward to private study. In preparing to leave Philadelphia and go off to war, he began to purchase books on the military arts.7
Chapter 2 explored Washington’s reading during the first phase of his life when he was a Virginia provincial. Building on that chapter’s themes regarding his selection of reading material based on whether it offered immediately applicable knowledge, this chapter examines Washington’s reading during the period of his life when he transcended his colonial status to become an internationally recognized leader from 1774 through 1783. Washington’s library collection as a whole grew tremendously over the course of those nine years. The additions Washington made to his collection presents interesting possibilities for analysis, as well as several potential pitfalls.
The pressure on Washington was staggering. As the military leader of a revolution, the stakes were infinitely high. He needed to read but had little time to do so. Therefore, it can safely be assumed that if he sought to purchase a particular work, he intended to read it. Conversely, given the demands on Washington’s time during this period, the analysis of the numerous works he received as gifts requires greater scrutiny. As demonstrated throughout the chapter, some of the gifts were sent by well-intentioned friends who thought the works would be helpful. A vast majority of these gifts, however, were sent by authors who were either hoping to curry favor with Washington or seeking an endorsement that would potentially help boost their sales. It would be too simplistic to assume that because Washington had little leisure time at this point, he would have disregarded the printed gifts sent to him. Likewise, it would be too sweeping to assume that just because Washington kept these gifts, he must have read them. The truth, I think, lies somewhere in between. Based on what is known about Washington’s preference for reading material that offered practical knowledge, a reasonable case for determining which presentation copies he did read can be made by aligning his previous reading preferences both with the situations he faced during the Revolution and with the gifts themselves in the order that they were received. While a certain amount of ambiguity is inherent in this method of analysis, unfortunately there is no more clear way of narrowing Washington’s reading down because his writings yield few direct connections.
What becomes apparent from this analysis is that Washington’s focus remained largely centered on the same genres that he had read before becoming a national figure. During this period, works on the military arts, politics, and religion dominated his collection. As this chapter illustrates, the works on politics and religion are intertwined due to the politicization of the pulpits during both the revolutionary and early national periods.
This analysis also reveals a picture of a very fragile Washington. As stated earlier, the evidence indicates that he was deeply pessimistic about his ability to carry out his commission successfully. Indeed, the year 1776 nearly proved him right as he and his fledgling army suffered a series of humiliating losses at the hands of the British until a small surprise attack on the sleepy Hessian garrison at Trenton gave the Americans a surge of momentum. Although Washington ultimately emerged victorious from the Revolution, he lost more battles than he won, and his pride took the heaviest beating over the course of the long war as he weathered storms of criticism and conspiracies to replace him. The problems associated with the sometimes fractious civil-military relations and the general staff’s infighting during the Revolution put immense burdens on the commanding general, who was still learning how to lead on such an immense scale. In short, for Washington, the Revolutionary War era was filled with as much strife as triumph. This truth must be carefully remembered when considering how susceptible he was to criticism and the degree to which he was driven to succeed. To sustain him in his high-profile position while presenting a public image of the quintessential leader with masterful self-control, Washington needed both knowledge and a healthy reassurance that what he was doing was right. His reading provided them both during this phase of his life.
Even before the Continental Army was an idea, Washington understood that the die seemed to be cast for war, and duty would demand his service.8 As Virginians began to ready themselves for war, Washington also turned his attention back to military matters. In November 1774 he ordered a copy of Thomas Webb’s A Military Treatise on the Appointments of the Army, originally published in Philadelphia in 1759.9 Webb, a lieutenant in the British army, wrote this book to offer his observations on the current state of the army’s level of training and organization and on what changes he thought should be made in the event that war did break out in North America. Webb premised that “it is the Duty of every Military Man, to endeavor to make himself Master of his Profession, and freely to impart any Knowledge he may have acquired, which can be of the least Advantage to the Service.”10 Lieutenant Webb wrote from the standpoint of an officer who commanded ordinary soldiers in battle, and as he implemented the policies he was commenting on, he was in an excellent position to offer an opinion on their effectiveness. Such a commentary would have been potentially useful to Washington if he had to constitute an army. Also in 1774 Washington ordered six copies of The Manual Exercise, as Ordered by His Majesty, in the Year 1764. Shortly thereafter in May 1775, Washington ordered eight copies of Thomas Hanson’s The Prussian Evolutions in Actual Engagements.11 These works would have been most useful in teaching new sergeants and company officers how to train their soldiers, for the books break down into simple steps how to perform the manual of arms. Additionally, immediately prior to the outbreak of the Revolution, Washington acquired a copy of Sir William Young’s Manoeuvres, or Practical Observations on the Art of War. This book is of particular interest because it offers another example of Washington’s making marginal notes. These notes reveal Washington’s self-education in the art of command. He paid attention to the size of the different formations referenced throughout the book, and his notes show that he tried to determine how to scale those numbers proportionally given the number of soldiers he had so that he could maneuver units on the battlefield in accordance with the manual’s instructions. To fully appreciate the significance of this book and Washington’s notes, it must be remembered that his experience was in building a regiment from the ground up, and he had never led a larger unit.
With these military treatises and drill manuals that he acquired during the first two years of the Revolution, we see Washington applying the same diligent study method he had used previously with Duhamel’s Practical Treatise of Husbandry when he sought to make his plantations profitable. In other words, he read these military books for the sake of immediate practical problem solving. There is nothing philosophical or reflective about them. They are tactical field manuals, not massive theoretical tomes on the art of command as it evolved over the centuries.
Washington also acquired twenty-four other works on military science. They gave Washington an overview of the latest European battlefield tactics and plans for military administration. It is interesting to note that the target audience for most of the books was company and field grade officers, not generals. For example, Edward Harvey wrote A New Manual, and Platoon Exercise: With an Explanation for infantry lieutenants. He instructed them how to move their soldiers into a formation, how to issue battlefield commands, and how to march a platoon in formation. In the plainest terms, the book taught new officers to “seize the Firelock with the right Hand, and turn the Lock outward, keeping the Firelock in the same position as before.”12 When considering the importance of this volume and the other military books Washington read during this period, it is indeed critical to remember the scale and complexity of the task facing him. Washington was quite literally learning how to build an army as he went along. While his command experience with the Virginia Regiment provided a useful foundation in the basics of military administration, it was not a sufficient solitary resource to rely on when constituting a much larger, more complex army. As such A New Manual, and Platoon Exercise and A System of Camp-Discipline, Military Honours, Garrison-Duty, and Other Regulations for the Land Forces, which describe how the army operated on a daily basis, were useful but only to a point. Washington was rapidly trying to educate himself about how to raise, administer, and maneuver armies in European-style battles, and these manuals gave him a place to start. Moreover, these manuals would also provide an approach to training junior officers. That knowledge, however, was the limit of what Washington could gain from such books; these works would not teach him how to be a commanding general.
The only other assets that Washington had when assuming command were his experiences in the Seven Years’ War, his reputation, and his ability to see the overall strategic picture very well. He had to use those assets to forge a coherent fighting force made up of men from across the colonies who represented a broad spectrum of different cultures and traditions. He had no experience in maneuvering troops on an open battlefield, and neither did the majority of his subordinate officers. Moreover, many people expected him to fail. Of course his British adversaries assumed they would defeat him handily, but there were Americans who also did not want to see him succeed — the staunch loyalists and even some members of his own staff who coveted his position and were jealous of his fame. Naysayers were not the only source of stress for Washington. Those who supported his nomination and those devoted to the patriot cause wanted him to rise to the occasion and secure victory no matter the odds. No less significant was the stress he also placed on himself. As with every endeavor, his reputation was linked to the war’s outcome, and it would have been a nagging worry. With all of these factors in mind, it is no wonder that he devoted what little time he had for reading to straightforward manuals such as A New Manual, and Platoon Exercise; A New System of Military Discipline Founded on Principle; and Essay on the Art of War: Principles of All Operations in the Field.13In particular, Essay on the Art of War, a collection of essays by an unknown author, defines what honor and valor should mean to officers, explains the duties and responsibilities of senior army leaders, delineates how an army staff operated, and expounds on how to administer military justice and how to conduct battlefield maneuvers. The author wrote that his wish was that “every young Officer will here find Lights sufficient to conduct him on the most difficult Occasions.”14 With regard to discipline, the author argued, “Military Discipline consists properly in maintaining good Order and Policy, without which the most beautiful Body of Troops would become a Band of Robbers and Assassins. Military Discipline comprehends, 1st, The regularity of Manners of those who follow the Profession of War. 2ndly, The perfect Obedience of the Inferior to the Superior, relatively to each Rank. 3rdly, The Vigilance of the Chiefs, in executing the Ordonnances of the Prince, against Military Crimes and Delicts. 4thly, The Chastisement with which those who are faulty are punished.”15
This single volume is a succinct reference that addressed all aspects of army life. The author’s stated intent of reaching an audience of new officers made this book another logical choice for Washington if he was looking for a basic text that he could possibly use in training his army. He also purchased the order of merit list of all general and field officers in the British army for the years 1772, 1777, and 1778, presumably to determine which adversaries he would face. With these purchases he was attempting to gain a complete understanding of his situation and determine how to best move forward.
The evidence of how Washington utilized this reading is best illustrated by looking at the earliest days of his command when the newly constituted Continental Army was encamped around Boston. Washington arrived shortly after the Battle of Bunker Hill and discovered that the information he had regarding the number of able soldiers was incorrect. Although he was told that there were twenty thousand volunteers, only fourteen thousand men were actually fit for duty. Almost every regiment was incomplete. Most of the soldiers were old men or young boys, and even more shocking to the new Virginian general was the surprising number of free blacks in their ranks. The men were filthy in their threadbare clothing, and they did not know the first thing about how to present their rusty arms for inspection. They slept in an odd conglomeration of rude huts and half tents scattered about the muddy, open fields. Horses and other animals wandered throughout the cantonment, eating the strewn spare garbage. Latrines were open, everywhere, and highly unsanitary. The smell of human waste forever hung heavy in the humid summer air.16
Worse than the appearance of the encampment was the behavior of the men. The officers had limited authority indeed because the very soldiers they commanded had elected them. Men came and went as they pleased. They looted and destroyed property, felt free to leave their posts, and fell asleep on duty. Before long Washington was being inundated with complaints from the locals that Connecticut soldiers skinny-dipped in the river in full view of the respectable ladies. Washington remarked that the New Englanders especially were “an exceeding dirty and nasty people.”17 Washington set to work to instill discipline and order into his camp. His first general orders specify the duties of his officers, based on what he read in his British manuals. For example, his general orders for July 4, 1775, stated that
exact returns to be made by the proper Officers of all the Provisions, Ordnance, Ordnance stores, Powder, Lead, working Tools of all kinds, Tents, Camp Kettles, and all Other Stores under their respective care, belonging to the Armies at Roxbury and Cambridge. The commanding Officer of each Regiment to make a return of the number of blankets wanted to compleat every Man with one at least. . . . It is required and expected that exact discipline be observed, and due Subordination prevail thro’ the whole Army, as a Failure in these most essential points must necessarily produce extreme Hazard, Disorder and Confusion; and in the end in shameful disappointment and disgrace.
The General most earnestly requires, and expects, a due observance of those articles of war, established for the Government of the army, which forbid profane cursing, swearing and drunkenness; And in like manner requires and expects, of all Officers, and Soldiers, not engaged on actual duty, a punctual attendance on divine service, to implore the blessings of heaven upon the means used for our safety and defence.
All Officers are required and expected to pay diligent Attention, to keep their Men neat and clean — to visit them often at their quarters, and inculcate upon them the necessity of cleanliness, as essential to their health and service. They are particularly to see, that they have Straw to lay on, if to be had, and to make it known if they are destitute of this article. They are also to take care that Necessarys be provided in the Camps and frequently filled up to prevent their being offensive and unhealthy. Proper Notice will be taken of such Officers and Men, as distinguish themselves by their attention to these necessary duties.18
Washington clearly had his work cut out for him, and there were precious few able and experienced minds to assist him. The two voices of experience Washington had to rely on were Maj. Gen. Charles Lee and Maj. Gen. Horatio Gates, the two British-born and educated officers who saw active service on the continent and North America during the Seven Years’ War. Lee was experienced, but he was vain, spiteful, filthy, and vulgar. Gates, who would be known to the army as “Granny Gates” because of his age and his propensity to move too slowly, was a pudgy but capable administrator with a greater talent for instigating political intrigue than for battlefield command. Of course Washington’s military family included other generals and staff officers. There were two other major generals from Massachusetts — Artemas Ward and Israel Putnam. Ward had no military talent but wasted no time in communicating his disapproval of Congress’s appointment of a Virginian to command an army made up largely of New England men. It would not take long for the dislike to become mutual. Putnam was a local hero in Massachusetts thanks to his frontier exploits, but behind the myths he had limited military abilities and was hindered by his illiteracy. Congress also commissioned Maj. Gen. Philip Schuyler, a wealthy landowner from New York with little else besides his wealth to recommend him. There was also Maj. Gen. John Sullivan, a lawyer from Durham, New Hampshire, who had less of a talent for command than getting himself into trouble. He knew nothing of the military arts. Brig. Gen. Nathanael Greene would in time prove to be one of Washington’s most capable lieutenants, but he came into the war with little more than a good mind, solid education, and physical bravery in his favor. Washington made a surprising move and plucked the rotund but talented Boston bookseller-turned-self-educated-artillerist Henry Knox from the ranks. In the early days of the war Washington also had two primary aides-de-camp — Joseph Reed and Thomas Mifflin — who were the first of a large number of aides who would have to keep pace with the sheer volume of paper that circulated through the headquarters on a daily basis.19
This group composed the general staff that was to assist Washington in raising an army that could face the British in open battle. Not only were the majority of his officers completely inexperienced but also the two with experience would prove to be critical, taciturn, and eventually conniving. Washington therefore had to do the bulk of the work himself, and as he believed that there was a “kind of stupidity” among many officers throughout the ranks, he did not delegate the task of establishing the code of conduct to a subordinate.20 This dearth of able staff officers and subordinate commanders therefore makes Washington’s military reading more significant. It is also interesting to note that Washington’s desire to manage the army’s daily operations personally stems from the fact that in his new role, establishing discipline was a subject he felt the most comfortable about, for here he could couple the knowledge that he had gained from his reading on the issue with his experience in the Virginia Regiment. His popularity increased among the local people of Cambridge as he cracked down on those soldiers who roamed the countryside, looking for horses and chickens to steal and dismantling fences for firewood as they went.21 He admonished his subordinate officers to be strict with their men and to
[r]equire nothing unreasonable of your officers and men, but see that whatever is required be punctually complied with. Reward and punish every man according to his merit, without partiality or prejudice; hear his complaints; if well founded, redress them; if otherwise discourage them, in order to prevent frivolous ones. Discourage vice in every shape, and impress upon the mind of every man, from the first to the lowest, the importance of the cause, and what it is that they are contending for. . . . Be plain and precise in your orders, and keep copies of them to refer to, that no mistakes may happen. Be easy and condescending in your deportment to your officers, but not too familiar, lest you subject yourself to a want of that respect, which is necessary to support a proper command.22
Washington’s advice to his officers reflects exactly how Washington put his reading to use. All of his books — including Bland’s Treatise of Military Discipline, A New Manual, and Platoon Exercise, A New System of Military Discipline Founded on Principle, and Essay on the Art of War — provided in similar terms the foundation of Washington’s guidance to his officers.
As he organized the army, Washington’s mind simultaneously raced ahead to what he would do with it. The British were entrenched in Boston, and the long-suffering citizenry, along with Congress, expected Washington to eject them. Washington was an aggressive commander by nature, and this instinct caused him to devise an amphibious attack to force the British out of the city. The harsh reality was that he could not do it. His army was yet untrained and ill equipped. The siege of Boston, which had been under way even before Washington arrived to take command, had yielded no progress. Washington was plagued by inaccurate reports of both the British strength and his own, but the intelligence that he could verify about the British position was not encouraging. The American forces were too small and did not command all the key terrain necessary to dislodge the British from the city. Another problem was that he did not have sufficient artillery to cover the river crossing until Henry Knox pulled off the seemingly impossible task of retrieving the guns from distant Fort Ticonderoga.
With this sudden, improbable infusion of artillery, Washington put the knowledge he gained from reading his copy of John Muller’s A Treatise of Artillery and, much to the British surprise, fortified the Dorchester Heights over the course of one feverish night of hard labor. Similar to the infantry manuals that Washington read, Muller’s book is a basic text intended for entry-level artillery officers. The entire introduction, for example, is devoted to a technical description of the British army’s different types of land cannons and includes simple charts with the different maximum ranges that each type of cannon could hit. Muller also explains how to read the charts and how to put the information to use. Parts 7 and 8 specify in great detail how to use artillery on the battlefield to the greatest effect. The treatise further describes how to properly construct gun emplacements and artillery batteries both for sieges and for the construction of defensive fortifications.23 This book would have been a highly useful reference for Washington as he did not have much experience with artillery.
The plan of attack for Boston offers an example of how Washington attempted to put his tactical reading to use. Although he was a strategic thinker who maintained a more clear-eyed vision of the Revolution than any of his fellow revolutionaries (both military and civilian) had, his vision was sometimes clouded by a curious hybrid of boredom, frustration, inexperience, and the adverse effects of his lacking a formal military education. Washington wanted a fast, decisive end to the war because he knew that a protracted struggle was fraught with uncertainties for the Americans. His experience in Cambridge thus far had taught him that his army was in a precarious situation. The number of capable soldiers fluctuated, and the Continental Congress had yet to determine how the soldiers would be paid or resupplied. A quick engagement resulting in a decisive victory was therefore in the Americans’ best interests. Annoyed by the problems associated with an ineffective siege that produced a stalemate, Washington proposed hurling his army across the Charles River into the main British position in Boston. At the same time he planned to bombard the city from the heavy guns mounted on Dorchester Heights. Yes, Boston might be burned to the ground in the process, but if successful, the British would be forced to surrender or risk being consumed in the flames.24 Washington’s assessment was correct: in order to achieve a quick victory he had to destroy or force the surrender of the British garrison in Boston. His aggressive instincts combined with his ignorance of the proficiency and overall size of a force required to conduct such an amphibious attack successfully, however, made the plan unfeasible from the beginning. His military reading taught him the fundamentals of army administration and tactical field maneuvers, but it was not enough to keep him grounded in reality when facing both an anxious citizenry that demanded action and an endless litany of complaints and issues that arose each day from his untrained, ill-disciplined army. Consequently, he downplayed or ignored the fact that many soldiers in his army either were from Boston or had family in Boston. When he proposed his plan to his staff, Lee scoffed at him. When the visiting congressional delegation heard his plan, Benjamin Franklin put him off, discounting the plan entirely.25
Even though Washington’s force did not mount an attack on Boston, the increasingly desperate British, holed up with dwindling supplies and increasingly hostile hosts, evacuated. Americans rejoiced as the last British ship slipped away into the horizon, but Washington knew the war was not over yet. Both adversaries would face off again while seeking that elusive defining victory, and the next episode would again show that Washington’s rudimentary self-education on military matters was not sufficient to make him a successful commanding general. Time would prove that he would only prevail when he used his reading knowledge to develop a different strategy from that of the European commanders. He had built an army that operated on a completely different set of principles from that of the British, so he had to come to terms with the fact that he also had to use his army differently if he was going to win the war. This process resulted from a combination of his reading of European manuals and his developing experience. As the summer and fall of 1776 would prove, this intellectual leap was difficult for Washington. What follows is a case study of the campaign of 1776, for it provides the best insight into this formative stage of the development of Washington’s military thinking.
When the British evacuated Boston, no one in the American camps knew where they were going or if they were coming back at all. Some deluded themselves into believing that the British had simply given up and returned to England. Washington, however, assumed correctly that they would go to New York City and thought it would provide an opportunity for an American victory. This hope, however, would prove fleeting. From the British perspective, New York offered several key advantages. To be sure, New York had a large, deep natural seaport perfectly suited to serve as the headquarters for the Royal Navy. Additionally any attack on New York City would require an amphibious assault, a task made difficult by the tidal rivers swirling around Manhattan. Finally New York City sat at the point where the Hudson River connects to the harbor, and the Atlantic beyond was an ideal position from which the British could isolate New England from the rest of the colonies and thus pursue a divide-and-conquer strategy to regain the colonies one by one. Upon concluding his analysis, Washington hurried his army south from Cambridge to take up new positions on Manhattan and Long Island.
Although Washington was right about the British selecting New York as their destination, neither he nor any of his staff were prepared for what the British were about to hurl at them. Furious that its troops had lost Boston to the “rebels,” the ministry deployed the largest expeditionary force the world had ever seen. To make matters worse, Washington realized that New York was virtually indefensible given the forces he had at his disposal. He was on an island surrounded by two navigable rivers and a harbor, but he had no naval support. He had no idea how large the combined British force would be or when it would land.26 Nevertheless he had to do something.
From the outset, Washington’s defense of New York was plagued with problems. Major General Lee was in command prior to Washington’s arrival, and he struggled to erect effective defenses of this complex and critical terrain. When Washington arrived, he began to consult widely with others, and as he did so, Lee’s plan began to change. The most likely reason why Washington struggled was because the military reading he had done to this point was insufficient for the task of defending this particular area. Muller’s basic artillery treatise did not offer Washington any possible solution as to how to use his limited number of cannon in such a complex defense. Nor did Washington’s other book by Muller, A Treatise Containing the Practical Part of Fortification in Four Parts, which offered technical guidance on constructing adequate defenses but not on selecting their placement on a battlefield.27 Washington also could not use the knowledge he gained from his infantry manuals because he lacked the soldiers and resources to carry out the tasks that the authors proscribed. For instance, in Manoeuvres, or Practical Observations on the Art of War, Young instructed that when occupying a new area, an officer should “ride forward with his Cavalry, observing the proper precautions; he will send out Patroles, to find out the Enemy’s nearest Posts; examine all Roads, and even foot paths, leading from the Enemy, to the Army he belongs to; he will endeavor to learn from the Peasants, everything the Enemy has been doing, and form conjectures, upon what their intentions may be; and think nothing but his profession, till relieved.”28 Washington, however, was unable to gather much intelligence before the attack began. He therefore was unable to deploy his troops to the best possible advantage. This lack of situational awareness led to chaos throughout the American lines. The result was a series of major defeats that ultimately led to the loss of Long Island when General Howe’s army flanked around to the rear of Washington’s position and took the Americans by surprise.29
In the immediate aftermath of the defeats on Long Island, the Americans had fallen back to strong defensive positions on Brooklyn Heights. They occupied the high ground and had clear fields of fire; trenches, redoubts, and star forts at intervals along the line; and double palisades and small fortresses at critical positions. Additionally they had plenty of supplies, ammunition, and guns. Some British officers wanted to storm the American lines in an attempt to complete the victory begun on Long Island. General Howe would hear nothing of it. He did not want another costly victory similar to Bunker Hill, where the British eventually drove the Americans out of their fortified positions after sustaining a ghastly number of casualties. Instead, Howe opted for a conventional siege of Brooklyn Heights and ordered his engineers to proceed methodically, being careful to find the weaknesses in the American lines. As that happened, Adm. Lord Richard Howe prepared to send his fleet into the East River. The Americans were quickly about to be surrounded. The weather shifted, and driving rains began to fall. Washington observed how close the British engineers were through the storm and decided to convene a council of war to discuss the possibility of evacuating the entire army across the river back to Manhattan.
After Washington outlined his many reasons for such a plan, he asked for the opinions of his senior commanders present: Major General Putnam, Maj. Gen. Joseph Spencer, Brigadier General Mifflin, Brig. Gen. Alexander McDougall, Brig. Gen. Samuel Parsons, Brig. Gen. J. M. Scott, and Brig. Gen. James Wadsworth. Immediately, they raised their doubts and questions. Some thought evacuating the army before the British detected what was going on was impossible. The river was nearly a mile wide with strong currents, the Americans had too few boats, the British army could attack at any moment during the evacuation and slaughter the entire army in the open, or the British navy could catch the army in the water and likewise destroy it. Putnam argued that the fortifications were strong, and he was confident that the Americans would be better at fighting from behind defensive works. After hearing all opinions, Washington weighed in again, this time with a decision: the army would evacuate to Manhattan. The boats were already being gathered, and the operation would begin immediately in the strictest secrecy. They deliberately kept the soldiers in the dark, telling them only to pack and prepare for a shift in positions. At ten o’clock at night in a driving rain, the Americans began making their escape.30
Col. Benjamin Tallmadge would later recall, “It was one of the most anxious, busiest nights that I ever recollect, and being the third in which hardly any of us had closed our eyes to sleep, we were all greatly fatigued.”31 Besides exhaustion, the Americans had other factors working against them. Rain reduced the ground to a sea of mud, making mobility difficult and sinking the gun carriages down to the hubs. They dragged the small cannon out but left the larger ones behind. The bad weather was both a blessing and a curse for the Americans. The sudden northeaster masked their movements from the British, but it slowed them down. The mariners from John Glover’s Fourteenth Massachusetts and the fishermen in Israel Hutchinson’s Twenty-seventh Massachusetts did their best to keep the boats moving against the wind and the currents in the darkness, but the operation was still slow going. At first light, many of the best American troops still held positions as rear guard security and were in real danger of being discovered and captured by British and Hessian patrols. Then, as if by divine intervention, a dense fog began to rise and settled over both the British position and the American point of embarkation. Even as the sun rose, the fog persisted and shrouded the Americans in an unusual yellow light as they slipped farther away from the Brooklyn shoreline. A separate evacuation rescued American troops on Governor’s Island. British cannon fire sank only one boat, but nearly all the soldiers on board survived.32
The exhausted Americans would not get a decent respite after their hairbreadth escape from the British. Washington reported the loss of Long Island to Congress on September 6 and called another council of war to determine what to do next. Washington realized that given the strengths and weaknesses of his army, risking the men against the British again in the open field made no sense. He also reported that he did not have the capability to defend even strong positions at all costs because his troops were not willing to die for either honor or duty. In his report to Congress on September 8, 1776, Washington wrote, “That we should on all occasions avoid a general action, or put anything at risqué, unless compelled by a necessity into which we ought never be drawn. . . . [W]hen the fate of America may be at stake on the issue . . . I cannot think it safe or wise to adopt a different system.”33 He resolved to keep his army alive by means of retreat, defending what it could, yielding what it must, and watching for an opportunity to strike the enemy whenever there was any probability of success.
It is interesting to note that Washington’s decision to evacuate Long Island in the middle of the night rather than waiting until daylight ran counter to the conventions of eighteenth-century warfare. A commander who ordered his troops to abandon the field under cover of darkness in order to escape rather than risk having to surrender did not behave honorably. It was one thing to undertake a night operation for the purpose of going on the offensive; it was quite another to simply run away. With the full weight of the war on his shoulders, however, Washington wanted not only to win but also to do so decisively. With that option not really being possible, he had to resort to running the British ragged, to stinging them where and when he could, to securing enough small victories to keep the American people vested in the cause and the army, and to risking as little as possible in the meantime. Building on the lessons he learned from his humiliation in New York, Washington would make an even better use of surprise as an unconventional weapon.
After the Americans had evaded the British in Harlem, escaped from the losses of Forts Washington and Lee and a separate engagement at White Plains, and made it all the way to safety on the Pennsylvania side of the Delaware River, doubt spread through both Washington’s army and the American people. The presence of the British force in Trenton, just a day’s march from Philadelphia, sent the residents of Trenton into a panic. More bad news came from New England when reports circulated that the British had in fact taken Rhode Island without much resistance. Members of the Continental Congress muttered about Washington’s fitness to command. Loyalists became more outspoken, and pessimism began to infect patriot strongholds throughout the colonies. People seemed increasingly inclined to believe that the cause was lost. These pressures weighed heavily on Washington, who had yet another massive problem: the majority of the soldiers’ enlistments would be up at the end of December 1776, and if they did not reenlist, the Continental Army would cease to exist.
The enlistment problem reached a crisis level quickly. As the autumn days slipped rapidly toward December, Washington’s army shrank by the day. Some help came from British pamphleteer Thomas Paine, who previously had caused a sensation with a forty-six-page pamphlet titled Common Sense.34 Although Paine, with his poor habits, sloppy appearance, and hatred for both authority and orthodoxy, was not the sort of man Washington would have ordinarily befriended, Washington recognized Paine’s talent for stirring the emotions of the people through the written word, a skill that he sorely needed to keep the cause alive at this critical juncture. Paine had been traveling with Washington’s army and had written a new essay, The American Crisis. It began, “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 both man and woman.”35 Paine arranged to have it printed in Philadelphia and sold for just two cents, only enough to meet the printer’s costs and nothing more. Upon reading Paine’s work, Washington ordered that it be read to his troops as an inducement to reenlist. It circulated widely, both in the camps and among the people, and it had a limited but positive impact. Some of the soldiers returned, but the larger problem of their enlistment contracts still loomed.
As Christmas Eve approached, Washington began mulling over a plan to strike a blow at the Hessian garrison at Trenton in order to galvanize his soldiers to stay in the army.36 His decision to launch a surprise attack in winter — on Christmas night no less — was inherently risky as it hinged on both secrecy and precision timing. Moreover, Washington’s planning ran counter to the lessons taught in his military reading. Because of the dangers associated with travel over snow-covered terrain and the logistical difficulties of keeping an army supplied, healthy, and fed in winter, all eighteenth-century military books advised against undertaking offensive campaigns during those months. All British commanders heeded that advice; thus, the Hessians calculated that the rumored American attack would be unsuccessful. Washington’s choice to defy such conventions reflected the extreme circumstances he was in and the need to produce victories to keep soldiers in his ranks and to sustain the war.
The plan was that the operation would commence at midnight on Christmas night with the army attempting to cross the Delaware at three different points. A thousand Pennsylvania militia and five hundred veteran troops under the command of John Cadwalader and Joseph Reed were to cross the river at Bristol and advance toward Burlington. A second force of seven hundred Pennsylvania militia were to attack directly across the river at Trenton, hold the bridge over Assunpink Creek at the foot of Queen Street, and cut off a possible escape route. The third and largest force of twenty-four hundred Continental troops under the command of Washington, Greene, Sullivan, and Stirling would cross the river nine miles up from Trenton at McKonkey’s Ferry. Halfway to Trenton, this force would divide into two columns — one led by Sullivan taking River Road and the other led by Greene on Pennington Road. Washington would ride with Greene. Four cannon were to be at the advance of each column. The two columns had to arrive at Trenton no later than five o’clock and the attack to commence at six, or an hour before daylight. Officers were to wear white paper in their hats to distinguish them. Absolute secrecy was required, and no man could quit his ranks on pain of death. The password for the night was “Victory or Death.” The latest intelligence estimates indicated between twenty-five hundred and three thousand enemy troops were in Trenton.37
From the outset the weather took a severe toll on Washington’s complex plan. The driving snow combined with ice that choked the river caused such delays that only Greene’s column went forward. Once across the river, the increasingly severe conditions significantly slowed the troops’ progress. They did, however, finally reach Trenton. The attack began just after eight o’clock. Greene’s men charged across an open field toward a Hessian patrol that fell back to the town once the men could make out the size of the force bearing down on them through the driving snow. Hessian soldiers came pouring out of their barracks, falling into formation at their officers’ commands, only to be scattered with devastating rounds from Henry Knox’s cannon. As the stunned Hessians fled to the side streets, they ran headlong into Sullivan’s men, and savage house-to-house fighting raged for a brief time. Hessian commander Col. Johann Rall, roused from his bed, mounted his horse and ordered his panic-stricken men into a nearby orchard to regroup. Hessians fell all around him, and soon Rall fell, mortally wounded. The Hessians in the orchard surrendered. The attack was over in less than forty-five minutes. Twenty-one Hessians were killed, ninety wounded, and nine hundred taken prisoner. Another five hundred Hessians escaped over Assunpink Bridge, which the Americans should have been guarding. Only four Americans were wounded, and two died from exposure. Washington quickly ordered his exhausted troops to march the nine miles back to McKonkey’s Ferry and cross back to Pennsylvania, for he knew that once word of the defeat spread, it would not be safe for his tired army to remain in New Jersey.38
Washington highly praised his soldiers’ performance in his general orders on December 27 and assured them that they would receive a proportionate amount of the value of what was captured at Trenton in cash.39 The victory at Trenton breathed new life into the American cause. It was celebrated throughout the colonies as the improbable story of crossing the river in the snow to overwhelm the Hessians and achieving such a surprising result was repeated in nearly every newspaper, church, tavern, and home in America. Bolstered by the success of Trenton but still mindful that his army’s enlistments were within days of expiring, Washington decided to keep up the momentum and go after the British again. On December 29 Washington, Greene, Sullivan, and Knox crossed the Delaware at McKonkey’s Ferry again in an operation just as dangerous as the previous one had been. In Trenton, Washington made a personal appeal to his troops to reenlist. He offered a bounty of ten dollars to anyone who would stay for six more months, thanks to the money Robert Morris sent from Philadelphia. The willing were asked to step forward. The drums rolled, but no one moved. Then riding before the men, Washington changed his approach and spoke to them in the most affectionate terms: “My brave fellows, you have done all I asked you to do, and more than can reasonably can be expected, but your country is at stake, your wives, your houses, and all that you hold dear. You have worn yourself out with fatigues and hardships, but we know not how to spare you. If you will consent to stay just one month longer, you will render that service to the cause of liberty, and to your country, which you can probably never do under any other circumstance.”40 The drums rolled again, and nearly every one of the soldiers in the formation stepped forward. This speech to the troops offers another example of how Washington put rhetoric to practical use. The oratorical flourishes of this speech echoes the writing in Paine’s pamphlets, which had previously proven to be an effective bolster to the American cause.
By January 1, 1777, Gen. Charles Cornwallis arrived in Princeton with eight thousand men. On January 2 Cornwallis took fifty-five hundred troops and set off after Washington at Trenton. By dusk the Americans retreated back through Trenton and, thanks to Knox’s cannon, were able to hold the British advance at the Assunpink Bridge. As the sun set, Cornwallis convened his officers to decide whether it made sense to try one last attack on the bridge to destroy Washington. Even though some at the meeting, including Sir William Erskine, predicted that if they did not press the attack immediately, they would not find Washington in the morning, Cornwallis decided not to risk a night attack. Instead he would “bag him in the morning.”41 True to the predictions, Washington’s army was nowhere to be found when the sun rose. Having left enough men behind to create the illusion that the army was encamped for the night, Washington pulled out of Trenton on a large, daring northward movement around to Cornwallis’s rear in Princeton. Washington planned to divide his force once again, with Sullivan’s column going to the right and Greene’s going to the left. The fighting broke out at daybreak on January 3 as Greene’s column ran into some British forces a couple of miles outside of Princeton. At the end of the battle, the Americans had lost twenty-three men; the British, considerably more. It was another stunning, improbable success for the Americans. Washington was sorely pressed to push on to Brunswick and capture the British supplies there, but the army was too exhausted. Any such operation was way too risky, so Knox talked Washington out of it. Instead, the bedraggled yet victorious Americans slipped back into the hills near Morristown to spend the rest of the winter there, tucked safely out of reach of the British.42
The victories at Trenton and Princeton were of small tactical consequence to the Americans in the short term. The British were dealt two surprise blows that took a toll on the officers, yet in the broader context of the overall size of their force during the entire war, the losses were relatively minor. In the long term, however, the victories at Trenton and Princeton forced Howe to fixate on holding New Jersey and on taking Philadelphia in the face of Washington’s army, which had not simply disappeared as he had hoped. Washington’s army survived and was holding out in New Jersey; therefore, Howe had to re-array his forces to counter Washington’s presence. Furthermore, in order to take Philadelphia, Howe was obliged to sail around to the city’s port.
The significance of these battles for the Americans is hard to overstate. After the dismal performance of Washington and his army in New York that very nearly ended the Revolution in the late summer of 1776, Washington turned everything around by the end of the year and kept the cause alive by delivering two stunning victories that had a tremendous psychological impact on both the army and the people. He adapted his strategic thinking to embrace a defensive strategy designed at wearing away the British will to fight while keeping the survival of his own army paramount. He was learning the art of high command.43 Washington’s reading was a critical component in the evolution of his generalship, which had failed him in 1776. His lack of a military education had caused him to make costly mistakes, resulting in defeat after defeat. Washington’s eventual shift toward a defensive strategy was largely due instead to his experience. This strategic transition, however, would have been more difficult if he had had an extensive military education, for combined with his aggressive nature and desire for victory, such a background arguably would have inhibited his ability to see clearly the weaknesses in his army that could not be ignored.
In this way, Washington in 1776 was going through the same type of intellectual shift that he had experienced nearly twenty years earlier when he lost his fight for a British commission. At the point when he realized he could not transcend his colonial birth and become British, he readily abandoned the idea of cultivating a European-style intellect in favor of pursuing the Virginian ideal of gentry living — that is, turning profits as a planter while dedicating the rest of his time to public service. In 1776 he had to become a leader whose abilities would be recognized not just by his countrymen but by the British as well. As such he initially did not take the lessons learned from his practical reading on military tactics and adapt them to his unique situation. Forced to recognize that he must do so after suffering the staggering defeats in New York, Washington began to evolve into the leader that history remembers.
These early years of the Revolution were the most trying in Washington’s life. He shouldered an immense burden and had few people he could confide in. Over time the whispered criticism of his performances in 1776 and 1777 grew louder. For all the disparagement, however, Washington carried the hopes of many of his countrymen, and grateful admirers inundated Washington with printed sermons, political tracts, and newspaper articles that celebrated the cause, the army, and the commander in chief himself. That said, although the business of the headquarters was unceasing, Washington added more military books to his reading collection throughout the war. In attempting to assess which texts Washington actually made the time to read, it is important to remember the extreme circumstances he faced on a daily basis. Washington was often despondent during the long campaign months that were filled with defeat and disheartening news, and no one was there to cheer him. His outlook improved when his wife joined him in his winter quarters, but for long periods in between he was most certainly alone with his dark thoughts. For all of his strength, Washington was someone who needed security and reassurance. He mentally escaped to Mount Vernon whenever possible, sending pages of instructions to his overseer not only to enjoy a bit of a distraction in making plans for the home he loved but also to regain some sense of control. With the war going badly and its ultimate success anything but a foregone conclusion, it is possible that he made time to read some of the sermons and periodicals he received in order to regain some positive perspective on his task. This assumption makes sense especially for printed works that were either written or sent by someone he knew.
Besides the matter of ego, Washington had a practical need as commander in chief to keep his finger on the pulse of the Revolution as it intensified. Although he maintained his belief in subordinating his role as a general to civilian authority, in the eyes of many Americans Washington embodied the Revolution, and he knew it. The materials he read and the news he received constantly reinforced the knowledge that the people were more focused on him than they were on John Hancock as the president of Congress; so he necessarily had to stay abreast of precisely how his countrymen thought about the Revolution. As such both his position and his reputation demanded that he maintain at least a cursory knowledge of the latest expositions on current affairs as they became available from the presses across the states.
Any analysis of Revolutionary War–era writings must be conducted with a thorough understanding of how language was both used and understood to describe the evolving American mentalité. The writers during this period went to extreme lengths to lay the discursive foundation of national legitimacy with their careful use of both the spoken and the written word.44 Washington, who was likewise striving to establish both his legitimacy as a leader and that of the Continental Army, would have certainly recognized the writers’ efforts to establish national credence. Furthermore, he was not the only one to appreciate that language was one of the Revolution’s most effective weapons. John Adams correctly asserted that the American Revolution had taken place in the consciousness of the American people: “What do We Mean by the Revolution? The War? That was no part of the Revolution. It was only an Effect and Consequence of it. The Revolution was in the Minds of the People, and this was effected, from 1760–1775, in the course of fifteen Years before a drop of blood was drawn at Lexington.”45
Even though Adams was in large part championing his own role in the Revolution when making this assertion, he was nonetheless correct in the sense that a revolution can only be carried out by people who have been convinced that doing so is both possible and right.46 This intellectual process is what qualifies the war that it sparks as being a true revolution and not simply a rebellion. Adams’s argument is further proven by applying it to Washington, for as is argued earlier in this chapter and in chapter 2, he became a revolutionary ahead of many of his fellow countrymen. When he accepted the appointment as commander in chief of the Continental Army, he did so as an American and not as a Briton seeking the restoration of the old colonial status quo.
The self-consciousness that Adams, Washington, and the rest of the revolutionary elite felt about the idea that language was the contested site for political action was not reserved to them alone; it was also crucially a part of popular propaganda as well.47 When the colonies began resisting British policies and finally demanded independence, they did so not just as individuals but also as members of particular local counties or congregations. This of course does not suggest that all colonists were united at all times; rather, the effort to stage a successful revolution encompassed far more than simply the elite who were at the vanguard of the movement.48 Colonists across class lines understood that the language used either to support or to decry the Revolution was politically charged in a distinct, eighteenth-century manner. For instance, given that a considerable cross section of colonial American society widely read and understood the law, not only was the practice of law far more difficult then as opposed to more recent times but it also had a profound impact on the way that revolutionary discourse was written.49 The combined effect of this revolutionary rhetoric, which uniquely interwove legal, political, and religious discourse, allowed the people living through these times to be a part of a sophisticated rhetorical culture wherein everyone — lawyers, legislators, military officers, planters, and merchants — had a particular understanding of distinctive political nuance.50
When examining the religious writings of this era that Washington collected, it is critical to bear in mind that the printed sermons had as much or more to do with politics than with theology. Nearly every pulpit in America was politicized during this period either for or against the patriot cause. Therefore, when considering the reasons why Washington may have read these works, he may have sought more than religious inspiration. These sermons could have provided Washington with a sense of reassurance that the public still held him and the cause that he embodied in high regard. That encouragement would have been sorely needed during the long retreat across New Jersey, the winter at Valley Forge, and the even harsher winter at Morristown. Washington’s wanting to know whether the public was still on his side, moreover, was not out of simple vanity. He also needed to determine that the American people still supported the war because, for the most part, it was not obvious. States routinely failed to meet the recruiting quotas that Congress set forth, and the army chronically lacked everything it required: pay, uniforms, weapons, ammunition, food, medicine, and horses. Washington sought evidence that the people were still behind the war so that he in turn could reassure his troops, who were torn between their duty to support their families and the obligation they felt to serve — service that often entailed suffering with little tangible reward. Washington strived to keep his troops in the army, but he and his recruiting officers had to rely largely on rhetoric to do so. The very writing style of the many sermons, pamphlets, and newspaper articles Washington collected included many ideas and turns of phrase that would have been useful to him and his recruiting staff. Moreover, the literary style of these works, along with their ideological undertones, would have been familiar to most of the men in their target audiences.51
Also striking when considering Washington’s sermon collection as a whole is how closely it chronicles the transformation of the American Revolution from a struggle to restore English liberties into a war to achieve complete independence from Great Britain. The earliest example in Washington’s collection is William Smith’s A Sermon on the Present Situation of American Affairs, Preached at Christ-Church, June 23, 1775. Preached just nine days after Washington’s appointment as commander in chief and the formal establishment of the Continental Army, Smith’s sermon argues vehemently for the justice of the American cause but clearly states that independence was not the goal; rather, the Americans were engaged in a struggle to restore the old status quo of British rule.52 At that time Smith spoke to men who thought they were the rightful inheritors of the Glorious Revolution of 1688. In other words, the struggle that had just begun on the far-flung battlefields around Boston was to restore the glory of the English constitution.
Another example in Washington’s collection that justifies rebellion to restore English liberties is Thomas Coombe’s A Sermon Preached before the Congregations of Christ-Church and St. Peter’s, Philadelphia. Coombe drew on a passage from 2 Chronicles to make the argument that as with the ancient Israelites who cast their eyes to God to deliver them in the face of an approaching superior enemy, the colonists also stood against a mightier power that unjustly demanded submission from their brethren who had been loyal members of the same family. The sermon is constructed with language about loyalty, family, constitutionality, and Providence. Weaving together passages from scripture with contemporary political events, this sermon plainly imbues the American cause with a sense of righteousness but yet stops short of calling for independence.53 In the same vein as the previous example from William Smith, Coombe’s sermon reflects the current situation in 1775. Therein lies a key to understanding both the language and the purpose of these political sermons: the clergy simply reflected upon the political situation of the moment. The pulpit served as a platform for announcing the goals of the American Revolution, but others elsewhere often developed those goals. For the most part, the clergy saw themselves not only as the link between God and the people but also as necessary intermediaries between the revolutionary leaders and the citizens who were being asked to choose sides. Thus they instilled a sense of sacredness into a war being waged over political principles.54
As the war transformed into a struggle for independence from Great Britain, the message of the sermons likewise changed to reflect this ideological shift. Two examples from Washington’s collection are William Gordon’s The Separation of the Jewish Tribes, after the Death of Solomon, Accounted for, and Applied to the Present Day, in A Sermon Preached before the General Court, on Friday, July 4, 1777; Being the Anniversary of the Declaration of Independency and Chaplain John Hurt’s The Love of Our Country: A Sermon Preached before the Virginia Troops in New Jersey.55 These sermons were written by army chaplains and therefore reveal the degree to which revolutionary rhetoric began to resonate within the ranks. Additionally Washington’s decision to keep copies of these chaplains’ sermons indicates his thinking about what the role and significance of the clergy and organized religion were in the Revolution. When Congress authorized the appointment of chaplains to minister to the regiments of the Continental Army, Washington mandated attendance at Sunday services for all soldiers. Furthermore, he insisted that they afford the chaplains the proper degree of courtesy on pain of God’s wrath, for “the blessing and protection of Heaven are at all times necessary but especially so in times of public distress and danger — the General hopes and trusts, that every officer and man, will endeavor so to live, and act, as becomes a Christian soldier defending the dearest rights and liberties of his country.”56 Here Washington’s choice of language in this general order was a reflection of the message emanating from the pulpits across the Continental Army encampments each Sunday morning. Moreover, even before Congress officially sanctioned the chaplains, Washington recognized and welcomed the evangelical clergy’s contribution in promoting the American cause. He specifically commended Abiel Leonard of Connecticut, a minister who would become one of his favorite chaplains, for his particular talent for explaining to the soldiers the inherent sacredness of their political rights.57 Therefore, whether Washington was theologically aligned with his chaplains or not, he clearly viewed organized religion as a key to the successful outcome of the war. He saw it would go a long way toward inspiring both a regard for discipline and a sense of duty in the soldiers.
It is interesting to note that Washington’s collection includes revolutionary sermons written by authors from both sides of the Atlantic. For example, he received two copies of a political sermon delivered by Richard Price in England, printed first in London in 1776 and reprinted in Philadelphia shortly thereafter, that is titled Observations on the Nature of Civil Liberty, the Principles of Government, and the Justice and Policy of the War with America. Price was a dissenting minister in England who was known to many of the American revolutionary leaders as a friend of the colonies. This sermon in particular recognizes the legitimacy of all the colonial grievances against the king and Parliament for trampling on the colonists’ collective English liberties. It further delineates the staggering amount of money that Great Britain spent during the Seven Years’ War while negating the argument first advanced by Lord Grenville that as the war had been fought on behalf of the colonies, they should therefore “welcome” the various taxation acts as just payment for services rendered. Price argued instead that the ministers were “strangely misinformed” and that it should have come as no surprise that the Americans resisted.58 Price’s arguments must have been reassuring to the Americans, who persisted in waging what at the time appeared to be a losing war. For Washington in particular, it would have been heartening to know that an Englishman’s recognition of the justice of the American cause was circulating in print throughout England, Ireland, and the colonies.
Washington seemed to have a set of favored authors. For example, his collection includes several works by Uzal Ogden.59 Among them are A Sermon Delivered at Roxbury, in Morris County, March 19, 1781 and two different sermons similarly titled A Sermon on Practical Religion (the first delivered at Newark, New Jersey, on August 15, 1779, and the second in 1782).60 These sermons use similar tones to extol Christian virtues and the benefits of maintaining a devotion to Christian worship.61 The straightforward texts urge adherence to disciplined orthodoxy as a means for living a good life and achieving a good death. The message made perfect sense for Washington, who, as the previous example from his general orders demonstrates, worked so hard to instill these values in his troops. Even Sermon Delivered at Roxbury, a funeral sermon for a colonel’s wife, reinforces the ideals of liberty, virtue, and piety, using terms that were linked to patriot rhetoric. The sermon promises eternal life in Heaven to those men who lived according to these qualities.62 As such this same sermon could have just as easily been delivered to eulogize any soldier killed in battle; therefore, it offered an opportunity for a practical application for Washington, who, as mentioned earlier, was constantly in search of rhetoric to bolster his recruiting efforts.
Another cleric who is heavily represented in Washington’s religious collection is Granville Sharp, an English Anglican priest whose writings are even more overtly political than Ogden’s sermons are. Sharp was an outspoken critic of the British policies toward the colonies and of the prosecution of the war specifically. Washington had in his collection seventeen of Sharp’s works, mostly on the subject of the American war. Of interest is his An Appendix to the Representation (Printed in the Year 1769) of the Injustice and Dangerous Tendency of Tolerating Slavery, or, of Admitting the Least Claim of Private Property in the Persons of Men in England Addresses the Immorality of the Institution of Slavery Both in America as Well as Britain’s Toleration of It.63 It is one of twenty volumes on the subject of slavery in Washington’s collection, and all address, in one way or another, the moral inconsistencies of the system, either hinting at or directly calling for the need for its abolition. The significance of Sharp’s and other works on slavery is explored more fully in chapter 6, which discusses Washington’s decision to free his slaves in his will.
Washington also had in his collection five works by the Methodist leader John Wesley. Wesley’s sermons were printed at the conclusion of the Revolution and, unlike the majority of the others discussed in this chapter, are centered on religious themes. What makes them noteworthy is that, first, their number indicates Washington’s great interest in Wesley’s writing. Second, the two men never corresponded with each other; so unlike many of the other authors whose work from 1775 to 1799 appeared in Washington’s collection, the five sermons were not gifts from Wesley himself. Third, the sermons became available during the period around the end of the Revolution when Washington’s home state of Virginia debated enacting Thomas Jefferson’s Statute of Religious Freedom into law. Although Washington was in the process of retiring and withdrawing from public life and was therefore not a member of the Virginia Assembly that passed the law in 1786, he still actively followed developing political affairs. Moreover, after his tenure with the Continental Army, which exposed him to various forms of Christian worship, he possibly followed the movement in Virginia to disestablish the Church of England once and for all and sought to learn more about the increasing popularity of one of the Anglicans’ chief rivals, the Methodists. Having been a burgess in Virginia when the bishop question dominated the agenda and pitted the church against the state and the will of the people, he understood both the significance of disestablishing the church and the impact that religious questions had on society.
Washington’s need to follow all of the latest developments in current affairs throughout the Revolutionary War era meant that he had to read more than just sermons. He also amassed a considerable number of political pamphlets and copies of the records of the Continental Congress, as well as those of the House of Burgesses and later the Virginia Assembly. Of the legislative records that Washington collected, he probably read only those passed by the Continental Congress as they had immediate application to his army’s activities. Richard Henry Lee sent the records of Virginia to Washington, but he likely had little time to read them and follow the legislative affairs of one state, albeit his home state, as he was too occupied with the war effort.64
Washington’s collection of political tracts outlines the scope of the ideological debate on the American crisis with Britain. He seemed interested in developing an understanding of both sides of the conflict with Great Britain. For example, William Milnor, Washington’s Philadelphia agent, sent him a copy of Thomas Bradbury Chandler’s (attributed to Myles Cooper) A Friendly Address to All Reasonable Americans, on the Subject of Our Political Confusions. Milnor also provided Charles Lee’s refutation, Strictures on a Pamphlet, Entitled, “A Friendly Address to All Reasonable Americans, on the Subject of Our Political Confusions.”65 In Friendly Address Chandler flatly condemned the revolutionaries’ rash actions and argued that it was “high time therefore to awaken the thoughtless to a sense of danger, and to think of providing for our common safety.” Chandler further asserted that “our own misconduct has brought it forward; and our immediate reformation must stop its progress. He must be blind, that is not convinced of this; and he must be infatuated, that will pursue the road, which evidently terminates in darkness and destruction.”66 Lee countered Chandler’s argument point by point in similarly plain language. Lee maintained that “the design of his Pamphlet is manifestly to dissolve the spirit of union, and check the noble ardor prevailing through the continent; but his zeal so far outruns his abilities, that there is the greatest reason to think that his Reverence has labored to little effect.”67 Lee drew a parallel between the commonly held views that Charles I was a tyrant and the popular opinion of George III’s conduct in order to decry Chandler’s call for passive obedience to the monarch as “a mark of lunacy.”68 Washington also had another pamphlet written by Chandler, What Think Ye of the Congress Now, or, an Enquiry, How Far the Americans Are Bound to Abide by, and Execute, the Decisions of the Late Congress?69 Chandler’s pro-British arguments in this pamphlet were counterbalanced in Washington’s collection with the writings by some of Washington’s fellow delegates to the Continental Congress. One example is John Dickinson’s A Declaration by the Representatives of the United Colonies of North America Now Met in General Congress at Philadelphia, Setting Forth the Causes and Necessity of Their Taking up Arms. Washington found Dickinson’s argument so persuasive that he forwarded a copy to his closest friend, George William Fairfax, who had returned to England because of his loyalist leanings.70 Along with Dickinson’s pamphlet, Washington also sent a copy of the Continental Congress’s address to the inhabitants of Great Britain that made a direct appeal to the British people to accept the justness of the American cause. Washington included a letter to Fairfax with the pamphlets in which he noted his appointment as commander in chief of the Continental Army and reported the casualties sustained at Bunker Hill, because he was certain that Fairfax would “have a very erroneous account transmitted, of the loss sustained on the side of the Provincials.” Washington expressed his confidence that on the American side there were no more “than 139 killed[,] 36 missing and 278 Wounded; nor had we, if I can credit the most solemn assurances of the Officers that were in the action, above 1500 men engaged that day.” He went on to state that “the loss on the side of the Ministerial Troops, as I am informed from good authority, consisted of 1,043 killed and wounded, whereof 92 were Officers.”71 Although the language of this letter is terse, on second reading it appears that Washington was attempting to make his friend understand his rationale for accepting the command. Despite Fairfax’s decision to return to England, the two men remained close, thus it makes sense that Washington would do so.
Washington also kept copies of his fellow Virginian Arthur Lee’s pamphlets, which Lee had originally composed and published in England in 1775 for British audiences: An Appeal to the Justice and Interests of the People of Great Britain in the Present Disputes with America; A Second Appeal to the Justice and Interests of the People, on the Measures Respecting America; and A Speech, Intended to Have Been Delivered in the House of Commons, in Support of the Petition from the General Congress at Philadelphia.72 Lee’s writing bears all the hallmarks of an American fully trained in English common law, and it therefore brims with that particular brand of rhetoric used during this period to justify the colonists’ claims against Great Britain. In addition to Lee’s legalistic arguments on the justness of the American position, Washington had copies of Thomas Paine’s Common Sense and The American Crisis. Paine’s masterful use of plain language distills the rhetoric into a heated condemnation of George III and the need to carry on the war. Both pamphlets had a profound effect on the people at large.73 These different works presented Washington with the full range of opinions on the Revolution in both learned and popular language. Together they provided him with a well-rounded understanding of how the people understood the conflict as it changed over time.
Besides religious tracts, printed sermons, and political pamphlets, Washington subscribed to multiple periodicals as another means of keeping track of current events. During the Revolution he maintained subscriptions to multiple periodicals, including Monthly and Critical Reviews, Annual Register for 1781, Annual Register for 1782, Pennsylvania Packet, and Political Magazine.74 Of these publications, publisher John Dunlap expressly established a subscription of the Pennsylvania Packet for Washington’s particular use during the war. It is interesting that the other four periodicals were all English publications. The disproportionate number of English journals is perhaps indicative of Washington’s need to maintain an awareness of how the popular press on both sides of the Atlantic presented the war’s events.
Washington’s growing personal library during the revolutionary period when taken as a whole is revealing. By concentrating his energies and what free time he had to reading military field manuals, political pamphlets, overtly political religious works, and periodicals, Washington was able to maintain an understanding of the total progress of the Revolution both within and beyond the army. He combined this self-directed reading with his natural penchant for leadership to become the very personification of the Revolution itself. As commander in chief of the Continental Army, he had to realize that success hinged on his abandoning the attempt to be a European-style general and instead develop a plan that would preserve his army. He did so by building his force from the ground up while relying on both a handful of the latest tactical guides to lay the necessary foundations and his previous experience as commander of the Virginia Regiment. He further shaped his strategy by maintaining an awareness of public opinion as expressed through various forms of print media from periodicals to pamphlets to sermons. His reading always had an immediate application to the circumstances he faced, and he learned to adjust his thinking as he combined his reading knowledge with his continually developing understanding of his circumstances. Just as his conscious rejection of classical reading in favor of a practical study of subjects such as agriculture brought him wealth and status before the war, his reading during the revolutionary era helped him succeed as a general.