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Copyright, 2001, David A. Rawson. All
rights reserved.
This document is a draft of a presentation
delivered at the SHARP Annual Meeting, July 2001, and is reproduced
here for criticism and comment only. Please do not copy or quote
from it in a scholarly work. Inquire with the author regarding
revised versions.
The newspaper press of Revolutionary America has been praised for
its openness to opinions critical of the British imperial government.
This acclaim emanates from that press's own promotional efforts, as
reflected in the masthead mottos that proclaimed that they were "Open
to All; Influenced by None." (1) As
a result, most observers have marked this period as the genesis of
the journalistic independence and integrity still claimed by the modern
American media, print and electronic. But this platitude ignores a
fundamental problem with the Revolutionary-era press: its professed
integrity becomes quickly suspect when one closely examines the events
of that day, especially in the interplay of conflicting perspectives
on those events.
This paper examines a specific event in the history of press freedom
in Virginia: the September 1775 seizure of the Norfolk press used
by John Hunter Holt by the last royal governor, Lord Dunmore. This
is an episode that has not received as much notice among historians
of the Revolution as have the conflicts in New York fostered by
Holt's father, John, between the Sons of Liberty and the colonial
government. Nor is this as well known as other press-related events
of 1775, such as Isaiah Thomas's flight from Boston to Worcester
to preserve his beloved Massachusetts Spy, or the trashing
of James Rivington's New York City printing office by a group of
Connecticut patriots. (2) Indeed,
this event merited just one paragraph in Arthur M. Schlesinger's
magisterial study of the Revolutionary press, Prelude to Independence.
(3) Such an oversight is undeserved, however, but understandable,
given that the unpublished record of this event was inaccessible
until relatively recently. With that material now in hand, this
episode provides us with an opportunity to examine the value of
truth in the Revolutionary media, when truth conflicted with a greater
human attribute, that of virtue, and thereby to also consider the
moral dimension of this essential freedom in the Revolutionary mind.
With the appearance of a second Virginia Gazette in Williamsburg
in May of 1766, the editorial focus of Virginia's newspapers had changed.
(4) This change is regularly described as one of competition
among their publishers for the hearts and minds of Virginians; William
Rind's new journal is seen as a patriotic challenge to Alexander Purdie's
older, official one. But reality is more complex than this simple
and oft-repeated dichotomy. Within weeks of Rind's appearance in Virginia
that spring, the resident royal governor, Francis Fauquier, discovered
that he had lost the ability to circulate information supporting his
government. Rind became the government's printer in November 1766,
but his press actually represented the views of the dissidents in
the legislature who had elected him to that office, and not those
of the government, per se. Meanwhile, his predecessor in
that office, Alexander Purdie, broadened his newspaper's content in
order to expand his readership and thereby counter the loss of this
governmental subsidy, with the crucial assistance of a new partner,
John Dixon. However, this change was not as abrupt as it may first
appear, or as it has been depicted by scholars of this period, such
as Stephen Botein. (5) Through at least
the preceding decade -- and perhaps from earlier still -- the lone
Virginia printing office in Williamsburg evolved from its initial
function as an agency of the government and the church, into a commercial
and political resource for Virginia's growing population; the office
became ever less a retailer of official imprints and ever more a wholesaler
of popular ones. For Virginia's newspapers, this evolution meant that
their content needed to reflect the interests of their readers, and
not those of the governor. Newspapers now found their viability --
and thus their profitability -- in reinforcing the developing political
economy of Virginia, and so focused more on the activities of
society and less on those of government.
The concept of a political economy in early American society is
one that some observers have found difficult to grasp, particularly
in light of our modern sense that an "economy" is something generally
financial in nature. But for those living in eighteenth-century
Virginia, the political economy was a self-evident reality. It was
the collective interconnections in society that continually evolved
according to shifts in that society's political, economic, and social
imperatives. In his description of this concept, Drew McCoy notes
that American colonials "lived during an age when a consideration
of the normative dimension of economic life had not yet been sacrificed
to the hubris of those who would claim to make economics into a
'non-moral' science." Thus, for these Virginians, political economy
fell under "the broader rubric of moral philosophy" and not social
science. (6) That moral dimension
is something that we, as scholars, forget at our peril.
In reinforcing Virginia's evolving political economy, the colony's
newspapers presented a perspective that was critical of imperial
authority and dismissive of the official line, even as an alternative
one emerged that reflected the interests of Americans generally
and Virginians specifically. From the alternate political viewpoint,
the activities of the king's government after the Seven Years' War
were calculated to diminish the constitutional rights of loyal British
subjects in America. From the alternate economic viewpoint, the
mercantilist policies of the king's government were calculated to
enrich a small class of merchants while impoverishing the producers
of the commodities that those merchants extracted from the colonies.
And from the alternate social viewpoint, the laws of Parliament
and the policies of the king's governments were calculated to reduce
the American colonists to a social standing subservient to those
people living on the home islands. The Virginia Gazettes
of this period proceeded from the knowledge that these alternate
perspectives were more demonstrable facts than irrational beliefs;
and so their editorial content shifted to support the ways that
Virginians sought to counter the designs of self-interested men
in Britain.
The principal consequence of this editorial evolution was that
business announcements took on an ever greater precedence over the
old staple of legal notices in their pages. The vitality of American
commerce and its importance to the British empire was seen by the
colonials as an important avenue for asserting and protecting the
rights inherent to their British citizenship. This shift demonstrates,
as well, the growing need for advertising space for businesses and
trades as commerce thrived after the Seven Years' War, an economic
reality that proved to Virginians the correctness of their political
position.
By 1775, Williamsburg hosted three newspapers, all claiming the
title Virginia Gazette. But even with the greater advertising
space that they represented, these papers still could not meet demand,
especially with one being required to carry the government's legal
notices. Thus, a fourth Virginia Gazette, this sub-titled
the Norfolk Intelligencer, appeared in that bustling port
in mid-1774. (7) As the name suggests,
this paper was about intelligence, the perishable life-blood
of commerce; it was a journal not just designed to handle the growing
demand for advertising that fueled the port's business engine, but
to also provide any news that effected the town's commercial pursuits,
yet which might not appear in the Williamsburg papers. Its proprietor,
Robert Gilmour, was a successful Scottish merchant in Norfolk, a
man who recognized the need to address both of these challenges.
Gilmour had the distinct misfortune, however, to start this venture
in the midst of the growing problems between Great Britain and its
American colonies; indeed, his paper commenced publication only
days before news of the passage of the Coercive Acts reached Virginia.
(8) Gilmour's apparent reluctance to publish political
intelligence thereafter, rather than commercial intelligence he
intended, led to hostility. By the end of 1774, Gilmour had been
induced, or perhaps compelled, to sell his fledgling journal to
someone more sympathetic to the patriot cause than he.
That person was John Hunter Holt. He was not only the son of the
patriot printer of New York City, but also the nephew of the late
William Hunter, Virginia's public printer from 1750 to 1761. With
these connections, Holt was able to acquire the Norfolk Intelligencer
in a transaction financed by a group of patriot leaders that including
his uncle Samuel Holt, a successful Williamsburg merchant. The younger
Holt was apparently trained in his father's New York offices, and
so the Norfolk paper's content quickly became very much like that
seen in the New York Journal: highly partisan and vitriolic.
So by the summer of 1775, all four Virginia Gazettes were
noisily challenging the policies of the king and his government,
just as their fundamental support of Virginia's evolving political
economy required. It should not then be surprising that the Old
Dominion's last colonial governor would seek to undermine their
dominance and impudence.
John Murray, the fourth Earl of Dunmore, had arrived in Virginia
in 1771. (9) Initially, he pursued
a policy designed to defuse the growing political tensions by resuming
land grants west of the Appalachian ridge in contravention of the
Proclamation of 1763. This decision itself served the colony's political
economy, by vesting more Virginians with the land they always sought
to enhance both their economic and social standing; but his decision
also led to conflict with the native peoples living on the lands
that he granted. During the winter of 1774-1775, Dunmore waged a
war against the Shawnee to suppress their opposition to further
westward expansion. But this campaign meant that he did almost nothing
to comply with London's directives to find and seize munitions and
supplies in the hands of rebellious militia groups that winter.
Thus when he returned from his war in the spring of 1775, Dunmore
found the political situation spiraling out of control rapidly.
Trusting that his new-found popularity as a territorial expansionist
would limit any potential political damage, he decided that he had
to move against the militias; instead, Dunmore's actions had the
effect of pouring gasoline on a fire. On April 16th, he ordered
all of the gunpowder stored in the public magazine at Williamsburg
removed to a man-of-war moored in the James River for safekeeping.
The ensuing uproar nearly resulted in a march on the palace by patriot
militias then gathered near Fredericksburg, but cooler heads prevailed,
George Washington among them. Here Dunmore was lucky because just
as the gunpowder crisis subsided, news events at Lexington and Concord
arrived, rekindling patriot tempers. But his luck held only briefly.
Within days, a dispatch from Dunmore to the Board of Trade in London
landed in the hands of William Rind's successor, John Pinkney. In
this purloined letter, Dunmore proposed a ruthless plan for dealing
with any rebellion in Virginia: he would use the British navy against
the river-front plantations of patriot leaders. When the second
installment from his dispatch was about to appear in Pinkney's Gazette,
Dunmore decided that discretion was the better part of valor; he
fled Williamsburg in the dead of night, an action which proved his
cowardice to many Virginians. For the next fourteen months, the
governor commanded a ragtag fleet of British naval and Virginia
trading vessels that loitered in the Chesapeake Bay. Dunmore's fleet
became home to thousands of loyalist Virginians and runaway slaves.
But more importantly, he used this fleet just as he had said he
would in the purloined dispatch. He raided patriot positions and
supply caches as he attempted, in his own inimitable way, to quell
the rebellion.
Norfolk became a particular focus for Dunmore. The largest town
and port in late-colonial Virginia, it was considered a loyalist
stronghold by both sides, primarily because of the numerous Scottish
merchants there, men like Robert Gilmour. Their loyalties lay with
the Crown and the mercantilist system that Parliament had crafted
over the preceding century and not with the Virginia planters, who
were the objects of their commercial maneuverings. So while the
de facto patriot government in Williamsburg saw Norfolk
as a danger to Virginia's independence, Dunmore and his de jure
government afloat saw supporters in its citizenry; eventually he
would try to rouse them against the efforts of the revolutionary
government. Early on the afternoon of Saturday, September 30, 1775,
the press used by John Hunter Holt became a means to that end.
Dunmore was especially distressed that, through all of the chaotic
events of 1775, he had been completely unable to either communicate
his views or to mobilize public opinion in support of his government
in the public prints. Furthermore, he believed that not only did
the four Virginia Gazettes now serve the revolutionary
leadership, but that the editors were themselves revolutionaries,
as evinced by their plebeian editorial perspective. Of particular
note was the Norfolk Intelligencer, which had become Dunmore's
harshest critic that summer. John Hunter Holt had learned well his
polemical craft in New York. But unfortunately for him, his office
was uniquely convenient to the waters of the Chesapeake and thus
to Dunmore's fleet. The governor ordered the captain of the sloop
H.M.S. Otter, Matthew Squire, to seize Holt's printing
equipment and supplies, as well as anyone working there. The subsequent
action seems to have stunned those who saw it:
...on Saturday, between two and three o'clock, afternoon, an
officer, with twelve or thirteen soldiers, and a few sailors,
landed at the County wharf, in Norfolk, under cover of the men
of war (who made every appearance of firing on the Town, should
the party be molested) and marched up the main street to mr. Holt's
printing office, from whence without the smallest opposition or
resistance (although there were some hundred spectators) they
deliberately carried off the types, and sundry other printing
implements, with two of the workmen, and, after getting to the
water side with their booty, gave three huzzas, in which they
were joined by a crowd of negroes. A few spirited gentlemen in
Norfolk, justly incensed at so flagrant a breach of good order
and the constitution, and highly resenting the conduct of lord
Dunmore and the navy gentry (who have now commenced
downright pirates and banditti) ordered the
drum to be beat to arms, but were joined by few or none; so that
it appears Norfolk is at present a very insecure place for the
life or property of an individual, and is consequently deserted
daily by numbers of the inhabitants with their effects.
(10)
This account of Squire's raid -- reported in Purdie's Gazette
and reprinted verbatim in John Holt's New York Journal
-- noted that Dunmore's purpose was not just to simply silence Holt,
but to set up a newspaper to challenge the remaining Virginia
Gazettes:
We hear that a PRESS is soon to be set up on board the ship
which lord Dunmore lately seized from messrs. Eilbeck, Ross &
co. under his lordship's own immediate inspection, with proper
assistants; so that we may soon expect to see the GOSPORT
CHRONICLE published by authority, which it is said is
to contain, occasionally a certain illustrious chief's
wars in Vandalia, some curious anecdotes, diverting
stories, and a number of other valuable and interesting
particulars, which no doubt will ensure to the new publication
a very extensive circuit, and consequently redound to the credit
and interest of its noble proprietor.
(11)
Purdie's account of the raid was not the first seen in Williamsburg's
Gazettes, but it was the longest and most satiric. This
should not be a surprise. Its entertainment value and political
perspective were just as important as was its account of the facts
of an event, fitting the mold of what Purdie had produced since
1766 as he buttressed the developing political economy.
In the accumulated mythology about the Revolution, Americans have
lost sight of the fact that both sides tended to spin events
to their advantage in print. The papers of neither side were truly
open because each excluded and distorted the views of their opponents,
while carefully crafting stories favorable to their positions. The
need to communicate his position and counter the opponents' spin
was the actual motive for Dunmore's seizure of Holt's press, as
evinced by unpublished reports of the event.
(12)
On the morning of the raid, Captain Squire sent a letter to Holt
demanding that the editor desist from slandering his character,
as Holt had done in his most recent issue. Indeed, by today's standards,
Holt was way out of line: he had implied that Squire was guilty
of bestiality in a condescending commentary on Squire's seizure
of a small vessel near Hampton. (13)
While this does not seem very unusual for the period, Holt's most
recent calumnies appear to have been the last straw for Squire.
Dunmore's order to seize Holt's newspaper office seems, by its timing,
the result of Squire asking Dunmore for permission to deal with
an affront to his honor more than with anything else, and that Dunmore
acquiesced to Squire's request because of similar aspersions aimed
at him. Witnesses reported that, upon receipt of Squire's letter,
Holt said publicly that he would not apologize for his past comments
and that he intended to continue to slander Squire whenever possible.
Thus, Holt's refusal to curb his tongue would not just explain the
raid, but also subsequent reports of Squire's visible anger at not
finding the villainous Holt on the premises that day.
The Norfolk borough council reacted strongly to the raid, calling
the incident "a gross violation of all that men and freemen can
hold dear." They asked that Dunmore return the seized materials
and punish Squire. (14) Dunmore,
however, demurred:
... if any individual shall behave himself as your printer has
done, by aspersing the characters of his majesty's servants and
others, in the most scurrilous, false, and scandalous manner,
and by being the instigator of treason and rebellion against his
majesty's crown government, and you [the council] do not take
such steps as the law directs to restrain such offenders, I do
then expect you will not be surprised if the military power interposes
to prevent the total dissolution of all decency, order, and good
government. (15)
In this last line we see what evidently disturbed Dunmore most
about Holt. By shaping his journal to fit the demands of shifting
popular opinion, and so to vulgarity, Holt had deserted the absolute
value of truth, even as he proclaimed his devotion to that virtue.
For Dunmore, the resolution was simple:
. . .I promise the printer, on my honour, if he will put himself
and his servants under my protection, that they shall not meet with
the least insult, and shall be permitted to print every occurrence
that happens during these unhappy disputes between the mother country
and her colonies, he only confining himself to the truth, and representing
matters in a fair, candid, impartial manner, on both sides.
(16)
Dunmore was, of course, just as disingenuous as his detractors,
but that fact does not diminish the reality that Holt's newspaper
was open only to certain perspectives. His was not a free press,
nor were any of the others by this time -- despite the openness
implied by the appearance of this exchange in the pages of Purdie's
Gazette. The hypocrisy of all the printers' claims to the
contrary infuriated Dunmore, even as he attempted to control the
flow of public information himself:
This, I hope, will convince you that I had nothing more in view,
when I requested capt. Squire to seize the types, than that the
unhappy deluded publick might no longer remain in the dark concerning
the present contest, but that they should be furnished with a
fair representation of facts, which I know never can happen whilst
the press remains under the control of its present dictators.
(17)
Dunmore's response to the borough council appeared in Purdie's
Gazette with the most potentially inflammatory passages
italicized for emphasis, bracketed by two other reports that did
not recognize that there was a problem with truth in any of Virginia's
Gazettes, much less in Holt's. Indeed, most of Dunmore's
charges against Holt were excised from all of the reports of this
exchange published in Virginia; we only know of them from the copies
that Dunmore sent to his superiors. In Purdie's report, the borough-council's
memorial preceded Dunmore's response, focusing on the peaceful intentions
of the town's inhabitants without mentioning Holt's conduct at all.
The item that followed his letter was a commentary that argued,
at some length, that Dunmore simply could not be believed because
his previous actions demonstrated a lack of virtue on his part.
Moreover, this writer asserted, Dunmore did not serve the truth
himself. He had failed to engage in the ongoing public discourse
in Holt's pages by rebutting a Dunmore family "genealogy" that Holt
published previously, one which claimed that the governor was descended
from Scottish rebels, and so of suspect loyalty himself:
"as we presume it to be truth, the recital
could not justly subject the bare retailer [Holt] to such violence
and oppression." (18)
This response ignored the possibility that Dunmore was correct
in his accusations and justified in his protestations, because he
had proved himself unworthy of anyone's belief. The questions he
raised about Holt's character and motives were not just ignored,
they were expunged in the public prints, because of Dunmore's character.
In describing Holt as a "bare retailer" of this presumed truth,
the commentator in Purdie's Gazette pointed to the new
reality for Virginia newspaper publishers: the salability of their
product was more important than the absolute veracity of its informational
content. The selling point here was Holt's adherence to the new
political economy. Thus the appearance of a free press,
one that advanced Virginians' interests through open discourse,
counted for more than the reality of a free press. Allowing
the opposition to speak in Virginia's public prints would impair
the patriot leadership's control of the state's social, political
and economic structures -- the roots of its changing political economy
-- which was the leadership's ultimate goal. Indeed, restraining
Loyalist access to the press was the central reason for the raid
on James Rivington's New York City press by Connecticut revolutionaries
later that same year.
From the perspective of Virginia's revolutionary leaders, this
seizure was an obvious and immoral attempt to stifle freedom of
the press, to silence a voice that was properly critical of Dunmore's
role in suppressing the rebellion that had emerged that summer in
America. But from Lord Dunmore's perspective, it was a matter of
preserving a respect for the truth and the crown. Holt's weekly
invective against both the governor and his subordinates was not
just seditious or treasonous, it was nothing but outright lies.
Moreover, with all four Virginia Gazettes in the hands
of men who, like Holt, were dependent on the patronage of rebellious
Virginians, the means to counter and refute the lies of the Norfolk
Intelligencer were beyond Dunmore's reach. So without access
to the public prints, the governor chose to seize the press producing
the most bothersome newspaper in the colony and to use it to counter
the libelous and traitorous publications of the remaining presses
in Williamsburg.
This event leaves us with the premise that freedom of the press
in Revolutionary Virginia was a reality only for those sympathetic
to the rebellion, that these presses were not "Open to All; Influenced
by None" as they so proudly proclaimed. The respective virtue of
the opponents was the basis of believability in these accounts,
not demonstrable fact, and would remain so throughout the Revolutionary
era. Freedom of the press in Revolutionary Virginia meant the freedom
to criticize people and events who tested Virginians' control of
their society. It did not mean the freedom to publish anything by
anyone, as it does in a modern sense. The nexus between editorial
writer and the newspaper reader was one full of expectations on
both sides, expectations shaped by and shaping the emerging political
economy. Freedom of the press in Revolutionary Virginia meant the
right to publish what sustained Virginians' sense of themselves
and their society; but it did not mean the right to speak the truth,
seek justice, and or act impartially.
Notes:
1. This is the motto from the masthead of William
Rind's (later John Pinkney's) Virginia Gazette.
2. Both incidents are described in Isaiah Thomas's
The History of Printing in America, with a Biography of Printers
& and Account of Newspapers. ed. by Marcus A. McCorison,
from the 2d ed. (New York: Weathervane Books, 1975; 1st. ed. pub.
1810; 2d. ed. pub. 1874), 180-181, 508-509.
3. Arthur M. Schlesinger [Sr.], Prelude
to Independence: The Newspaper War on Britain, 1764-1776. (New
York: Vintage Books, 1965; orig. pub. 1958), 238-239.
4. This paragraph synopsizes chapter 4 ("Revolutionary
Disruptions and Alterations") in Rawson, "'Guardians of their own
Liberty': A Contextual History of Print Culture in Virginia Society,
1750 to 1820," Ph.D. dissertation, College of William & Mary,
1998 (UMI # 99-20309), esp. 201-235.
5. Stephen Botein, "'Meer Mechanics' and an
Open Press: The Business and Political Strategies of Colonial American
Printers," Perspectives in American History, 9 (1975),
127-225.
6. Drew McCoy, The Elusive Republic: Political
Economy in Jeffersonian Virginia. (New York: W. W. Norton &
Co., 1982; orig. pub. 1980, University of North Carolina Press for
the Institute of Early American History and Culture), 6.
7. U.S. Newspaper Project entry no. 85-25871;
Clarence S. Brigham, comp. History and Bibliography of American
Newspapers, 1690-1820. (Worcester, Mass.: American Antiquarian
Society, 1947), vol. II. Brigham's account of the seizure flawed,
based apparently on Peter Force (see note 8). He describes the paper
as" "Weekly. Established June 9, 1774, by William Duncan & Co.,
with the title of 'Virginia Gazette or, Norfolk Intelligencer.'..."
Duncan was the printer, Robert Gilmour (the "& Co." part) was
the financing.
8. Indeed, his start date of June 9th was two
days after the day of prayer and fasting, June 7th, proclaimed by
the House of Burgesses two weeks earlier in protest of these Parliamentary
acts.
9. This description of Dunmore and his policies
is drawn from John E. Selby, Dunmore. (Williamsburg: Virginia
Independence Bicentennial Commission, 1977) and Selby, The Revolution
in Virginia, 1775-1783. (Williamsburg: Colonial Williamsburg
Foundation, 1988).
10. Virginia Gazette (Purdie &
Co.), Oct. 6, 1775. This paragraph was reprinted in Peter Force's
American Archives (ser. 4, vol. 3, col. 847) with several
silent emendations; that reprinting also left off the two subsequent
paragraphs that first delineated Dunmore's reasons for the seizure
before fully satirizing them.
11. Ibid. Gosport is an Elizabeth River inlet
opposite Norfolk that was then the anchorage for naval vessels and
later became the site of the Norfolk Naval Shipyard. The Vandalia
reference chides Dunmore for his campaign against the Shawnee the
year before -- in a region encompassing the proposed (by Philadelphians)
new inland colony of Vandalia -- when more important events were
occurring in the seaboard colonies, a neglect that would likely
be repeated in his Gazette.
12. Dunmore's perspective on this event can
be found in his report to Lord Dartmouth, dated Oct. 4, 1775 (Great
Britain, Public Records Office, Colonial Office [hereafter cited
as PRO/CO] 5/1353. fol. 301) which was microfilmed as part of the
Virginia Colonial Records Project (a consortium of Virginia research
libraries operating from 1964 to 1990 under the direction of the
Virginia State Library [now the Library of Virginia]).
13. From Virginia Gazette, or Norfolk
Intelligencer, Sept. 27, 1775, now lost, but reported in Dunmore's
aforementioned report (Ibid.) and a letter from James Parker to
Charles Steuart, Oct 2, 1775, Steuart Papers, National Library of
Scotland (microfilmed by the Virginia Colonial Records Project).
Holt noted that Squire had been "too free with people sheep &
hoggs;" he also cast aspersions on the character of Dunmore's father
who had been detained during the Scottish rebellion of 1745 (William
J. Van Schreeven, Robert L. Scribner, and Brent Tarter, comps. and
eds. Revolutionary Virginia, The Road to Independence: A Documentary
History. 8 vols. [Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia
for the Virginia Independence Bicentennial Commission, 1973-1983],
IV: 155-156 n. 2).
14. "Address of the Common Hall of the Borough
of Norfolk to His Excellency Lord Dunmore, Sept. 30, 1775," Virginia
Gazette (Purdie), Oct. 13, 1775.
15. "Lord Dunmore to the Common Hall of the
Borough of Norfolk, Oct. 3, 1775," Virginia Gazette (Purdie),
Oct. 13, 1775. The italics used by Purdie for emphasis in publishing
this piece have been omitted as they were not in Dunmore's original
(Van Schreeven, Revolutionary Virginia, IV: 164 n. 2).
16. Ibid.
17. Ibid.
18. "To the right hon. the earl of Dunmore,"
Virginia Gazette (Purdie), Oct. 13, 1775. Emphasis added
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