Who Wants to Be a General Anyway?

Here are a couple more wrinkles in how the Rhode Island legislature commissioned Nathanael Greene to lead its troops in 1775 which I haven’t seen discussed elsewhere.

First, the colony named Greene its brigadier general. That was one rung lower than the rank still held by Simeon Potter, major general.

At the same time the legislature commissioned Greene, it also promoted Potter into its upper house, the Assistants.

Those actions might have kept the hot-tempered man content that he was still being respected. The colony still wanted his cooperation (and his cannon).

At the siege of Boston, Greene was the youngest general and had the least seniority. But he was still lumped in with the other generals. In June, Nathaniel Folsom reported back to New Hampshire: “Mr. [Artemas] Ward is Capt. General, Mr. [John] Thomas Lieut. General, and the other Generals are Major Generals.” That was their practical pecking order, not their formal ranks.

In July, the Continental Congress listed Greene as a brigadier general, alongside Thomas, William Heath, Joseph Spencer, John Sullivan, and others. In the summer of 1776 Greene became a Continental major general, and that remained his official rank throughout the war.

Here’s another possible factor in Rhode Island’s choice of Greene to command its army in 1775: Nobody else wanted the job.

The army of observation was designated as 1,500 soldiers, smaller than the other three New England colonies. Whoever commanded that contingent was bound to be low man on the totem pole around Boston. And in practice Greene was able to collect only about a thousand men.

For a Rhode Island man of military ambition, it might have seemed more promising to stay home and organize the coastal defense against British naval raids. At least you’d be the biggest fish in the pond.

What’s more, prospects might have looked even more promising at sea. Rhode Island was a maritime society. Many of its leading men were merchant captains who in wartime commanded or invested in privateers. As the example of Simeon Potter showed, that form of warfare could be the path to a life-changing windfall. Even naval captains had a chance at wealthy prizes.

On 12 June, Rhode Island became the first rebellious colony to commission its own navy, making Abraham Whipple the commander over two armed vessels. Whipple seized the Diana, a tender of H.M.S. Rose, off Newport three days later.

In October, Rhode Island’s delegates to the Continental Congress pushed for the creation of a Continental Navy. Ultimately delegate Stephen Hopkins’s brother Esek was appointed the first commander in chief of that branch.

That fall, the Rhode Island assembly (having given up on Simeon Potter) had appointed Esek Hopkins a brigadier general for defense of the colony. But the man jumped at the opportunity to go to war at sea. Because that was probably where he and his neighbors saw the real prestige and money.

In sum, Nathanael Greene might have become a general because senior men in Rhode Island didn’t view that job as important. Nobody foresaw what Greene would make of it.

COMING UP: The New Hampshire army.

The Marching Society in 1976

As long as I’m thinking back to 1976, I’ll highlight the Mighty Marvel Bicentennial Calendar.

This was published before I read more than a handful of comic books, so I didn’t see it at the time. The “’Taint the Meat…It’s the Humanity!” blog has a thorough overview.

The Stan Lee Papers at the University of Wyoming hold memos from Marvel Comics editor Tony Isabella to different artists, commissioning them to create the pictures for each month. (Start on page 37 of this digitized file.)

For example, to Gil Kane in January 1975:

Gil, this scene should show Conan and some Minute Men fighting British troops at Lexington. The British troops are wielding bayonets. I’m enclosing some reference (an old engraving) for you to (what else) refer to and whatever information on the battle at Lexington I can dig up. We’ll try to get you some additional reference before the end of the week.

Deadline for sketch: IMMEDIATELY!

That image ended up not showing any British troops at all, just the Cimmerian warrior urging on the Minute Men as they fired from behind a rather flat stone wall.

Isabella linked pictures to events in each month of 1776 (or 1775) where he could. January shows the Invaders of World War 2 with a man supposed to be Commodore Esek Hopkins, sailing out with the first Continental Navy. Isabella sent artist Frank Robbins “a pretty bad French engraving” of Hopkins. The result looks dimly like the engraving. But that engraving probably looked nothing like Hopkins, whom the artist in Europe had almost certainly never seen.

It’s rather funny to see the company’s effort to be historically accurate while inserting giant green monsters and flaming men into the Revolutionary War.

The Face of Esek Hopkins

To get back to my original point about the American Revolution Institute essay on a print issued in London in 1776, shown here is the same publisher’s portrait of Continental Navy commander Esek Hopkins.

This digital copy comes via the New York Public Library’s very helpful images collection.

As I noted two days ago, the London publisher Thomas Hart didn’t exist. Some other portraits of American leaders in the same series are clearly not based on actually looking at the men they claimed to depict.

Thus, we should be quite dubious that this image shows Esek Hopkins rather than any other white man on the planet. And thus skeptical that Hopkins, who would turn sixty in 1778, had a round face, dark hair, cleft chin, and other features visible here.

Yet if we look for other images of Hopkins, such as on this fine website about the Gaspée affair or this webpage from the U.S. Navy’s Naval History and Heritage Command wing, we find pictures clearly based on what Thomas Hart published.

One exceptional portrait on the U.S. Navy site is captioned:

Line engraving published in the Hibernian Magazine, Dublin, Ireland, August 1776. As with most contemporary Hibernian Magazine portraits, this is probably a purely fanciful representation of the subject. The engraver also provided an incorrect forename for Hopkins.

This portrayal is close enough to the Hart print that one could reasonably decide the two pictures show the same man. But if so, that man still probably wasn’t Hopkins.

In fact, only one image of Hopkins appears to have been created by an artist who actually knew him. That’s the infamous “Sea Captains Carousing in Surinam” painting by John Greenwood. (The Gaspée website includes a detail from this image on its Hopkins page as an alternative view.)

Greenwood wasn’t the greatest portraitist, and in this painting he put his effort into creating a broad scene of revelry rather than representing the precise facial features of every person involved.

Nonetheless, heirs of the man who commissioned and owned this picture understood that Greenwood had depicted some particular individuals, Rhode Islanders who traded in Surinam. Those identifications were written down in 1878 and published in Rhode Island History in 1977.

According to that tradition, “The gentleman on the far side of the table wearing a tricorn hat and blue coat with red facing is said to be Esek Hopkins. . . . Esek would have been about 40 when Greenwood painted the picture” in the late 1750s.

There’s still a lot of uncertainty involved, but the image of Commodore Esek Hopkins that we have the best reason to rely on is actually this one.

“Brave Manly’s Commodore”

Of all the captains Gen. George Washington ordered to sea in late 1775 and early 1776, one found spectacular success: John Manley (c. 1733-1793).

His schooner, the Lee, captured a string of British cargo ships in the fall of 1775, including the ordnance brig Nancy, as described back here. In February, Washington promoted Manley to commodore, telling all the other captains to follow his orders.

Manley became a national hero even before there was an official American nation. This image of him appeared on a broadside published in Salem above the following song. Join in if you know the tune!

MANLY
A FAVORITE NEW
SONG,
In the AMERICAN FLEET.
Most humbly Addressed to all the JOLLY TARS who are fighting
for the RIGHTS and LIBERTIES of AMERICA.
By a SAILOR.—It may be sung to the Tune of WASHINGTON

BRAVE MANLY he is stout, and his Men have proved true,
By taking of those English ships, he makes their Jacks to rue;
To our Ports he sends their Ships and Men, let’s give a hearty Cheer
To Him and all those valiant Souls who go in Privateers.

And a Privateering we will go, my boys, my Boys,
And a Privateering we will go.

O all ye gallant Sailor Lads, do’nt never be dismay’d,
Nor let your Foes in Battle ne’er think you are afraid,
Those dastard Sons shall tremble when our Cannon they do roar,
We’ll take, or sink, or burn them all, or them we’ll drive on Shore.

And a Privateering we will go, &c.

Our Heroes they're not daunted when Cannon Balls do fly,
For we’re resolv’d to conquer, or bravely we will die;
Then rouse all you NEW-ENGLAND Oaks, give MANLY now a Cheer,
Likewise those Sons of Thunder who go in Privateers.

And a Privateering we will go, &c.

Their little petty Pirates our Coast shall ne’er infest,
We’ll catch their sturdy Ships, Boys, for those we do like best;
Then enter now my hearty Lads, the War is just begun,
To make our Fortunes at their Cost, we’ll take them as they run.

And a Privateering we will go, &c.

While Shuldham he is flying from WASHINGTON’s strong Lines,
Their Troops and Sailors run for fear, and leave their Stores behind
Then rouse up, all our Heroes, give MANLY now a Cheer,
Here’s a Health to hardy Sons of Mars who go in Privateers.

And a Privateering we will go, &c.

They talk of Sixty Ships, Lads, to scourge our free-born Land,
If they send out Six Hundred we’ll bravely them withstand;
Resolve we thus to conquer, Boys, or bravely we will die,
In fighting for our Wives and Babes, as well as LIBERTY.

And a Privateering we will go, &c.

While HOPKINS he is triming them upon the Southern Shore,
We’ll scour our Northern Coast, Boys, as soon as they come o’er;
Then rouse up, all my Hearties, give Sailor Lads a Cheer,
Brave MANLY, HOPKINS, and those Tars who go in Privateers.

And a Privateering we will go, &c.

I pray you Landsmen enter, you’ll find such charming Fun,
When to our Ports by Dozens their largest Ships they come;
Then make your Fortunes now, my Lads, before it is too late
Defend, defend, I say defend an INDEPENDENT STATE.

And a Privateering we will go, &c.

While the Surf it is tossing and Cannon Balls do fly,
We surely will our Foes subdue, or cheerfully will die,
Then rouse, all you bold Seamen, brave MANLY’s COMMODORE
Should we meet with our desp’rate Foes, bless us, they will be tore,

And a Privateering we will go, &c.

Then cheer up, all my hearty Souls, to Glory let us run,
Where Cannon Balls do rattle, with sounding of the Drum;
For who would Cowards prove, or even stoop to Fear,
When MANLY he commands us in our bold PRIVATEER.

And a Privateering we will go, &c.

“Shuldham’ was Adm. Molyneux Shuldham (c. 1717-1798) of the Royal Navy. He was the top-ranking British naval officer in America in the first half of 1776, between Admirals Samuel Graves and Richard Howe, which suggests this verse was written in those months, before Massachusetts had legally become “an INDEPENDENT STATE.”

“Hopkins” was Esek Hopkins (1718-1802) of Rhode Island, commander of the small Continental navy from February 1776 to January 1778. Legally, neither Manley nor Hopkins commanded privateers at this point in the war; Manley had an army commission from Washington, and Hopkins a naval commission from the Continental Congress. But everyone, even Washington himself, was casual about the line between privateers and publicly-funded warships.

More about that line, and Comm. John Manley, in my talk at Longfellow House on Saturday afternoon: “Cambridge: Birthplace of the American Navy?”