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.
Mike had a little fun busting on George Washington’s spelling in today’s episode, but we do have to offer a little grace here, because in 1776 efforts to standardize spelling in the English language were only just beginning to catch on.
About a hundred years earlier, some of the language was simplified; thus, sinne became sin; logique became logic; toune to town, etc. Not long afterward, some words were tied to their Greek or Latin roots, e.g. det became debt (Latin, “debitum”) and dout became doubt (Latin, “dubitare”), and so on.
It really wasn’t until the 19th Century that more serious efforts to standarize some English took place, as the science of phonetics began to rise. In the 1870s, societies actually began springing up that were dedicated to reforming the English language’s spelling. One such group had the editor of the Chicago Tribune as a member, so whenever his group had something they thought was good, he’d be the first one using it in print.
In 1903 a group called the Simplified Spelling Board was formed, backed by Andrew Carnegie. Their recommendations were immediately relayed to all government agencies by President Teddy Roosevelt.
And then between the 1930s and 1975, the Chicago Tribune (again) was at the forefront of changes to standardized spelling, thus giving the new language a huge platform on which to rest.
While preparing to depart Boston for New York, George Washington appointed Nathaniel Greene to run things for awhile until everything was back in order.
Fortunately for both Greene and Washington, matters straightened out rather quickly, because Greene was called to join Washington just a few weeks later.
Nathaniel Greene was tasked with fortifying Brooklyn while Washington prepared to defend Manhattan. As a military leader, Greene had a bit of a mixed record, but more often than not it appears that he was the victim of poor timing when things didn’t go well for him.
Later on in the war, he took on the position of Quartermaster General, which on its surface looks like a demotion, but Washington still considered him “inner circle” and Greene would sit in on War Council meetings, even though he was considered a staff officer.
Later on, when things started looking gloomy in South Carolina and Georgia, Nathaniel Greene was put in charge of the Southern Department of the Continental Army, where he embarked on a campaign of guerilla warfare rather than pitched battles. His unconventional approach wasn’t always successful, but if the British won a battle it was at a much greater cost than it should have been.
In the aftermath of the siege of Boston, it was incumbent upon George Washington and his men to re-enter the city and take stock of its condition.
Mike brings up Artemas Ward in today’s episode, and I’m pretty sure that was the first time his name has come up in the course of this podcast. Ward was a major general during the Revolutionary War, among others, and an effective political leader when he wasn’t being a soldier. It was Ward who sounded the alarm on Bunker Hill, and who took command of the New England area once Washington led most of the troops down to New York City. ‘
The statue in today’s cover art can be found in the center of a traffic circle in Washington, DC, where Massachusetts and Nebraska Avenues cross one another. Ward’s great-grandson donated four million dollars to Harvard on the condition that they build a statue of Artamis, and maintain his Shrewsbury home. Harvard apparently chose to purchase a statue but did not provide enough money to provide the general with a horse. Oddly enough, because it’s a traffic circle and therefore has no obvious way for a pedestrian to get to the center (i.e., no crosswalk), it’s quite difficult to get close enough to the pedestal to read the inscription:
ARTEMAS WARD 1727–1800 SON OF MASSACHUSETTS GRADUATE OF HARVARD COLLEGE JUDGE AND LEGISLATOR DELEGATE 1780–1781 TO THE CONTINENTAL CONGRESS SOLDIER OF THREE WARS FIRST COMMANDER OF THE PATRIOT FORCES
It’s been 333 days since Lexington and Concord, when the British were forced to retreat to Boston and were bottled up there by Colonial forces.
It’s been a week since the British said “enough” and decided to effect their departure from the city as soon as the weather cooperated.
But today, the day finally came.
It took about five hours to launch over a hundred ships, carrying thousands of soldiers, women and children from the city.
It was Washington’s first major win and the last time the British did anything of importance in New England. The war began to move south, to New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania. Virginia and the Carolinas also had their share of action, as we’ll see in the coming months.
First: let me apologize for the slight change in sound quality for today’s episode. I’m not in my usual recording space and I’m not especially happy with the equipment I brought. At worst you’ll have to put up with it just one more time.
Next: George Washington was a gentleman through and through, so the fact that his general orders sometimes focused on the Continental soldier behavior shouldn’t be a surprise. In today’s episode he concerns himself specifically with that, but for two reasons. One is for the health and safety of the troops, but the other is because the Bostonians have been through enough, and he doesn’t want the Continental Army–the people supposedly on their side–to look like villains.
In the meantime he’s already standing down a big chunk of soldiers and sending them to New York, where the next big battle is going to be, he thinks. (Again, he’s right, but he didn’t realize it at the time.)
The focus today up in Cambridge, while waiting for the British to hightail it out of Boston, was getting the men ready to move to New York, and putting together Washington’s personal guard.
Washington didn’t really need a personal guard in Cambridge, at least not much of one, because he was in the driver’s seat while he was there. The British were bottled up, and he was the stopper. But to move to New York and then defend that territory? Well, that was another project entirely. New York had more access points, more deepwater harbor, and more territory overall to defend. This wasn’t like keeping the British locked up on the peninsula that was the entirety of Boston. And while Washington probably considered it a bit of vanity at first (that’s a guess on my part) to even have a group of men dedicated to being “Washington’s personal guard”, he likely began to understand the inevitability of needing the guard as the Continental Army’s Commander-in-Chief.
The occupation of Dorchester Heights, just across the river from Boston, was perhaps the final step that George Washington needed to end the siege that had gone on for nearly a year.
Of course, it wasn’t just occupying Dorchester Heights; Washington could have pretty much done that at any time. It was occupying them with a terrifying speed, thanks to Rufus Putnam (the guy in today’s cover art, by the way) and his clever plan for assembling the defenses there. And thanks also have to go to the big cannons that had been brought down from Ticonderoga. These guns had the range that Washington needed to not only shoot at Boston if he needed to, but to fire upon British ships in Boston Harbor.
Howe had a couple of moves left, but it was nearly over.
Colonel Henry Knox took about ten weeks to get from Ticonderoga to Cambridge rather than the two he anticipated. But his arrival meant the siege’s end in Boston would come soon.
Knox had brought something like 60 tons worth of material overland using hand-built sledges and carts drawn by oxen. The last leg of the trip is still a mystery, because Knox’ diary ends about two weeks early. What is known is that as he passed through the occasional town, people would line up to watch. So we know when he was where, but the usual stuff that ran through Knox’ head for that portion of the trip is gone.
Still, his arrival at Cambridge meant that Washington now had what he needed to fortify his position and do what he needed to drive the British out of Boston. After nearly a year, the siege’s end was actually in sight.
Phyllis Wheatley was an 18th century poet who was born in West Africa and sold into slavery as a small child, living with the Wheatley Family in Boston.
Phyllis wrote a book of poems which was published in 1773, after which she was emancipated. This makes her the first African-American author of a published book of poetry.
Phillis Wheatley married a grocer named John Peters around this same time. They had three children, but unfortunately all of them died quite young. Phyllis herself died in of pneumonia in 1784, not long after giving birth to a daughter, who also died that day.
Celestial choir! enthron’d in realms of light, Columbia’s scenes of glorious toils I write. While freedom’s cause her anxious breast alarms, She flashes dreadful in refulgent arms. See mother earth her offspring’s fate bemoan, And nations gaze at scenes before unknown! See the bright beams of heaven’s revolving light Involved in sorrows and veil of night!
The goddess comes, she moves divinely fair, Olive and laurel bind her golden hair: Wherever shines this native of the skies, Unnumber’d charms and recent graces rise.
Muse! bow propitious while my pen relates How pour her armies through a thousand gates, As when Eolus heaven’s fair face deforms, Enwrapp’d in tempest and a night of storms; Astonish’d ocean feels the wild uproar, The refluent surges beat the sounding shore; Or thick as leaves in Autumn’s golden reign, Such, and so many, moves the warrior’s train. In bright array they seek the work of war, Where high unfurl’d the ensign waves in air. Shall I to Washington their praise recite? Enough thou know’st them in the fields of fight. Thee, first in peace and honours,—we demand The grace and glory of thy martial band. Fam’d for thy valour, for thy virtues more, Hear every tongue thy guardian aid implore!
One century scarce perform’d its destined round, When Gallic powers Columbia’s fury found; And so may you, whoever dares disgrace The land of freedom’s heaven-defended race! Fix’d are the eyes of nations on the scales, For in their hopes Columbia’s arm prevails. Anon Britannia droops the pensive head, While round increase the rising hills of dead. Ah! cruel blindness to Columbia’s state! Lament thy thirst of boundless power too late.
Proceed, great chief, with virtue on thy side, Thy ev’ry action let the goddess guide. A crown, a mansion, and a throne that shine, With gold unfading, WASHINGTON! be thine.
