Military history has taken a variety of forms, one of which is the lasting trend of social or “from the bottom-up” history. One aspect of this brand of historiography that historians of the Revolution have not explored in thorough detail is the impact of religion on the daily lives of the war’s participants. Historians have discussed religion in the Revolution for over a century, with intellectual, political, and social histories at the forefront, but the soldiers received little attention. In 1966, Alan Heimert published Religion and the American Mind from the Great Awakening to the Revolution. This revisionist and intellectual history reconsidered the war’s religious implications and brought attention to religion’s investigatory potential. Later, social historians tailored their research questions to peoples’ experiences, mainly the clergy and the social elite.
Religion was a cultural staple in eighteenth century America, influencing all areas of society. Military and political leaders intended to create and cultivate religious feelings that inspired loyalty to the nation. Army chaplains held responsibility for communicating those political ideas to the troops through prayer and sermons. Despite the efforts of the political and military elite, soldiers’ individual beliefs were more of a personal motivator for charging forward, or at least staving off desertion, in the face of hardship and less of a barometer for patriotic fervor that chaplains could super-charge before or after combat. The published narrative of private soldier Joseph Plumb Martin gives insight on the extent to which the complex infusion of religion, patriotism, and politics fueled his martial motivations. While this is just one man, he provides a glimpse into the political nature of the common soldier that historians can use as a framework to expand similar inquiries across a broader spectrum.
While Martin’s narrative is one of the most well-known, read, and written about works of the Revolution, the religious aspects of his life as a soldier has remained in the historiographic subtext. The work also comes with some issues that require attention. He did not write this work as an immediate record of his service; instead, it is a reflection that came years later. This means that he likely curated the prose, illustrations, and selected events to tell a story that he wanted told, in a way that people would want to hear it. Martin was also the son of a Yale educated minister, meaning his religious affinity could be skewed, affecting his usefulness as an example of the average soldier. To an extent Martin serves as a prime starting point to address soldiers’ spirituality for precisely these reasons. His education allowed him to craft a far more comprehensive work than is available for most Continental army soldiers, and since his narrative is targeted at a broad audience it provides insight into what illustrations he believed would communicate wartime experiences to readers who had not experienced combat firsthand.
While using Martin as starting point, it is important to note that American soldiers’ motivations to join and continue serving in the Revolutionary War were complex and multifaced, varying among regions and individuals. Simplistic generalizations cannot wholly define these motivations. Nonetheless, understanding how various factors contributed to Martin’s willingness to serve will open the door for gaining a clearer picture of the war, to understanding how religious beliefs influenced soldiers’ comprehension of their military service. Martin intertwined religion and politics, creating a worldview through which he understood his service. This infusion manifested a personal “patriotism” that fueled him through the trials of life in the Continental army. Historically, religion’s role in soldiers’ initial motivation to join and sustain their motivation to not desert or go home once their enlistments expired is vital for understanding how Commander in Chief George Washington built and kept an army in the field for eight long years, and Martin serves as the first piece in putting together that larger puzzle.
One challenge of tackling immeasurable qualities like motivation and spirituality is the lack of quantifiable metrics. One may make the argument that there was increased secularization in the late eighteenth century, but it would be difficult to completely dispel the presence of ingrained religion. A “vital religious culture” was present in every colony during the Revolution that had grown in concert with colonial politics since 1607.[1] The war with England did not create the people’s religious conceptualizations of wartime politics. Instead, it was a continuation of a trend present throughout the area’s history. Historian Fred Anderson identified strong religious tendencies of New England’s Provincial soldiers in the Seven Years’ War, just a two decades prior to the Revolution. He argued that these soldiers had “a profoundly religious conception” of the war.[2] Martin’s narrative breaks down into a few forms of religious content: references to prayer, providence, the Bible, and the army chaplains.
Martin recalled the freezing conditions and starvation endured during his time in service, proving the need for a broader consideration than strict combat-oriented motivation. He wrote, “for I tell a solemn truth, that I have felt more anxiety, undergone more fatigue and hardships, suffered more every way, in performing one of those tedious marches, than ever I did in fighting the hottest battle I was ever engaged in,” making it evident that battle was not the most trying time for all soldiers.[3] To properly gauge sustained motivation, all aspects of trials must contribute to the conclusion. It was not invulnerability to harm that allowed Martin to persevere. His writing shows he believed God affected the physical world to provide sustenance and safety for Americans because they were on his side of the war. Focusing on the hardships of battle, while important, does not consider the totality of the soldiers’ circumstances. Getting to battle, being willing to fight in the next one, and enduring cold and starvation were the areas that he, and likely most soldiers, struggled with the most. Historian Robert Middlekauff may have been correct that soldiers were less concerned with their religion during combat, but it was a primary motivator for their prolonged their service.[4]
Joseph Plumb Martin was born in Beckett, Massachusetts during November 1760, but spent most of his early life in Milford, Connecticut, with his grandparents.[5] He enlisted in the Connecticut state militia in 1776 as a private, enlisted in the Connecticut Continental line, and ended service as a sergeant in the Corps of Sappers and Miners.[6] His father was a Yale-trained New Congregationalist minister in Massachusetts, which suggests that Martin held similar Protestant-Calvinist beliefs.[7] Martin was engaged in a series of historically significant battles during his nearly eight years of military service including the defense of Philadelphia, the winter encampment at Valley Forge, and the siege of Yorktown. He died in Prospect, Maine, in May 1850 at eighty-nine years of age.[8]
Prayer
Martin did not provide complete prayers in his narrative. He did not even offer many instances of prayer. His only notable reference was a passing mention of saying grace before a meal. Looming starvation was Martin’s biggest struggle during his eight years of service, and complaints of hunger appear consistently throughout his writing. In one instance during the 1777 campaign; his unit had left the siege of Fort Mifflin, which Martin deemed “as hard and fatiguing a job, for the time it lasted, as occurred during the revolutionary war.”[9] While making camp in Haddington, Philadelphia, Martin claimed to be “as near starved with hunger, as ever I wish to be.”[10]
Throughout his account of the siege of Fort Mifflin, Martin did not mention prayers for safety or victory. However, once he obtained food in Haddington, he paused for “a very short grace” before satiating his hunger. Martin’s prayer, while seemingly inconsequential, demonstrated a profound reliance on God during hardships. As previously mentioned, battle was not the hardest part of his military service. The lack of resources and constant hunger were his biggest temptation to leave the army. Evidence of martial motivation cultivated through religion existed outside of combat. Martin’s prayer illustrated his reliance on religion to sustain him. Despite extreme hunger, Martin still paused to give thanks to his God, to maintain the connection to his rooted beliefs to carry him through the hardships.
While the purpose of including only this prayer in his narrative while there were likely numerous instances of personal and chaplain-led prayer throughout his service is unclear, it does communicate devotion to his audience. His perception of the army’s chaplains, discussed in detail later, may explain the absence of prayer from his narrative.
Providence
Mentions of divine providence are the most common religious references throughout Martin’s narrative. While too numerous to discuss each individually, a few stand out as more significant than others. Martin relied heavily on Godly intervention in his military life but was able to separate what he believed to be luck from God’s actions. During his campaign of 1777, while at Fort Mifflin, Martin’s officers deemed it necessary to raise a flag to signal their need for assistance at “the height of the cannonade,” and Martin considered doing it because none of the other soldiers seemed willing to risk hoisting their lives. However, an artillery sergeant volunteered first, and subsequently died after a cannonball struck him on his way down from the flagstaff.[11]
Faced with this instance of mortality, Martin wrote, “had I been at the same business I might have been killed; but it might have been otherwise ordered by Divine Providence,—we might both have lived,—I am not predestinarian enough to determine it.”[12] The indecision led to a moment of personal crisis for Martin. He wondered if his lack of action caused the sergeant’s death, whether he would have lost his life if he volunteered, or if God would have spared them both had he acted. Like his reliance on prayer for comfort discussed earlier, Martin fell back on his religious beliefs, this time during combat. His statement was somewhat conflicting as he pointed to providence as a potential saving grace but wavered in his commitment to a “predestinarian” decision. He rationalized the event as God’s will for the sergeant’s passing. Martin held God’s intervention in high regard and used that belief system to sustain his ability to stay mentally rooted in the fight.
Another instance of Martin’s appeal to providence came during his campaign in 1781. At this point, Martin was a part of the Sappers and Miners. He led a group of thirteen men on a reconnoitering expedition and came across a group of “thirty or forty Cowboys”—referring to Loyalist troops—who flanked them.[13] The conflict happened with the parties roughly fifty yards apart, but the cowboys did not harm any Continentals. Martin claimed, “a kind Providence protected every man of us from injury although we were within ten rods of the enemy.”[14] To Martin, surviving an engagement that involved a much larger force outflanking them within effective firearm range must have been through God’s intervention. Similar to the previous instance, this mention of providence emerged from a crisis, but God protected the soldiers. Between these two statements, Martin contemplated how his actions interacted with providence and gave credit to divine forces for group safety and combat related death. Both provided comfort and bravery in life-threatening service.
Martin did not attribute all good fortune to God’s actions. His narrative offered a balance of divine and ordinary instances. During his campaign in 1778, the Continentals continued to suffer from hunger. After Martin and another man finished driving cattle, they received a half-pint of liquor from the quartermaster-general’s department as a reward. Martin complained that he felt faint due to hunger, liquor, and the three-mile march back to camp. In recollection of this instance, he wrote, “but, as good luck would have it, my companion happened to have a part of dried neat’s tongue … which refreshed us much and enabled us to reach camp without suffering shipwreck.”[15] While not a religious reference, this shows that his use of “providence” was not a statement used for general fortune. Martin’s use of luck gives strength to the idea that his other uses of providence reflect genuine religious belief.
Another instance of his separation between the divine and earthly came from his campaign in 1780. While marching towards West Point, New York, Martin recalled a colonel providing the unit with an hour to take care of themselves, mainly to eat. Martin’s entry was rife with discontent as he stated, “Had the falls been real buttermilk, the Colonel’s order might have been given with some propriety, but as it was not so, we were forced to be patient, for we did not expect to be fed by a miracle.”[16] Despite other portions of his narrative claiming God provided more for the army than the nation itself and the numerous mentions of God ensuring survival through providence, including food, this statement proved Martin’s realistic expectations regarding when divine forces would intervene while illustrating his frustration with the seemingly tone-deaf military leadership.[17]
The dismissal of providential food offerings is especially interesting when coupled with times Martin declared the opposite, again relating to the common theme of troop hunger. Following a New Jersey battle in 1778, the men received “a gill of rum, but nothing to eat.”[18] While crossing the Hudson at King’s Ferry, a seven to eight-foot sturgeon landed in Martin’s boat; Martin recollected that upon completing their work, they “then repaired to our messes to partake of the bounty of Providence, which we had so unexpectedly received.”[19] The purpose of the quote is multifaceted. As previously stated, Martin relied on religion to maintain his ability to serve during hardships, with hunger being the most intrusive. His decision on what providence would provide seemed to depend on the circumstances. When a senior officer, whom Martin held at least partially responsible for the lack of resources, provided them time to eat, he was resentful. He did not expect God to provide when the military leaders failed. However, when coming from battle when emotions and feelings of mortality were higher, Martin explained the unexpected food through God’s blessings.
Biblical References
Martin referenced the Bible numerous times throughout his narrative. He used biblical characters to explain his conditions or to measure his observations. Unlike most wartime journals and diaries, he directed his narrative at an audience, even occasionally mentioning them in his writing. His use of Bible stories demonstrated his command of religion and his expectation that the audience would understand and relate to the references, reflecting that Christianity was commonplace among Revolutionary Americans.
The first reference came in New York in 1776. Martin’s regiment established a defensive position in response to five British ships anchored below them on the East River. Martin explained the lines as “nothing more than a ditch dug along on the back of the river, with the dirt thrown out towards the water.”[20] Martin’s half of the regiment rotated to the lines on the second night. He explained his thoughts about the activity: “We ‘manned the lines,’ and lay quite as unmolested during the whole night, as Samson did the half of his in the city of Gaza, and upon about as foolish a business.”[21] Samson’s biblical context came from Judges chapter fifteen, when Samson spent the night in Gaza with a prostitute; the city’s residents discovered his arrival and plotted to kill him in the morning. Samson slept peacefully until midnight when he awoke, stole the city’s gates, and left before any conflict.[22]
The immediate observation was Martin and the other soldiers guarding their position with the potential for conflict but remaining peaceful for the night, just as Samson faced violence in the morning but slept peacefully until he left. However, there was a more profound allusion that Martin was making. Samson’s theft of the city gates represented conquest because they were crucial to the city’s defense. Samson’s actions fulfilled God’s promises to Isreal to conquer their enemies; it was evidence of God’s will influencing a religious people’s martial goals.[23] The reference came early in Martin’s time in the army when the patriotic ideals that led to his enlistment were likely high. His biblical reflection demonstrated a belief that just as God promised Isreal, he also promised victory over Britain. Martin’s religious evidence thus far pointed toward his belief system sustaining his motivation; this portion of his narrative showed he had a religiously infused political understanding of the war that motivated him early in his service.
Another reference came in 1777 after Marin recovered from smallpox and almost immediately became affected by dysentery. Martin’s recollection stated, “I broke out all over with boils; good old Job could scarcely have been worse handled by them than I was.”[24] In this story, God offered for Satan to torment Job to prove he was a God-fearing man, so Satan covered Job “with sore boils from the sole of his foot unto his crown.”[25] Again, Martin’s baseline observation was apparent: he compared his condition to that of Job, with both having an affliction of boils. He used it as a literary tool to humor the audience because a well-read religious audience would understand he did not seriously suggest his boils were worse than those caused by the devil. The deeper reference was to Job’s commitment to God, that while he suffered greatly from Satan’s afflictions, he did not speak against God but remained faithful.[26] Martin alluded to his faithfulness despite the hardships the army caused him. It was evidence of his devotion to religion and its relevance in his sustained motivation. Martin was alluding to the times of extreme hunger towards the end of his narrative, where the army confronted him with starvation or desertion, but he still would not speak ill of God.
Martin referenced a well-known Bible story in 1780 regarding Gen. Benedict Arnold’s defection to the British. Martin recollected his interactions with Arnold before his act of treason. On the second of the two meetings, Martin wrote that Arnold “looked guilty, and well he might, for Satan was in as full possession of him at that instant as he ever was of Judas.”[27] He asserted his observation’s authority by declaring he had known Arnold since he was a child.[28]
The biblical context of this reference came from Luke chapter twenty-two and John chapter thirteen. Judas was well known to Christian audiences for his betrayal of Jesus to the Romans, and these two scriptures asserted that Satanic possession was to blame. The verse in Luke stated, “Then entered Satan into Judas surnamed Iscariot, being of the number of the twelve,” and the verse in John echoed, “And after the sop Satan entered into him. Then said Jesus unto him, That thou doest, do quickly.”[29] Religiously-minded American Revolutionaries would have accepted these scriptures as biblical truth. Martin’s assertion that he was more confident in Satan’s possession of Arnold than Judas demonstrated his resolve that a sincere and otherworldly evil manipulated Arnold’s actions. The reference also proved that Martin’s interpretation of the war was political and religious. Judas betrayed Jesus, Arnold betrayed the United States, and Martin viewed the two as equals.
Martin’s final biblical reference mentioned here was not to scripture but the book’s value. Martin compared Maj, John André, a British officer working with General Arnold, whom Washinton sentenced to death by execution, to the American Capt, Nathan Hale, whom the British sentenced to death for espionage.[30] Martin meant to show that the Americans treated their prisoners better than the British because “André had every indulgence allowed him that could be granted with propriety.”[31] In contrast, the British denied Hale “the use of a Bible or the assistance a clergy in his last moments, and destroying the letters he had written to his widowed mother and other relations.”[32] While the comparison effectively communicated Martin’s point, it also proved he believed the Bible and religious comfort equaled that of the letters from the captain’s family. Martin’s point was applying the value he placed on religion, which provided further evidence of the Bible’s place in Martin’s martial motivations. He relied on religion while facing the constant threats of his service. He could not comprehend the cruelty of taking those comforts away from a man, especially one with patriot values, sentenced to death.
The Army Chaplains
Martin’s disdain for the army’s religious leaders came from his perceived lack of care for soldiers at the national level. Martin’s father was a Congregationalist minister; there was some sarcasm surrounding Martin’s depiction of his father’s “calling,” but he provided no evidence of disrespecting the profession.[33] However, throughout his narrative, he offered stories and comparisons that depicted a less than appreciative outlook on the clergy. The first piece of evidence came in 1777. He recounted a group of men who went foraging and came across a beehive. He had the following description of one of the men’s appearance the following morning, “when we came to march off, Oh! The woful figure the poor fellow exhibited! – a minister in his pulpit would have found it difficult to have kept his risible faculties in due subjection.”[34] Martin’s message effectively stated that the man’s condition was so poor that even a church leader would laugh at him. Martin believed ministers were serious people with a stoic nature. The comparison was to show that the wounds following the beestings would break that otherwise impenetrable seriousness.
That reference was a literary tool to provide humor to the audience. However, Martin’s other comments on chaplains began to paint a picture of his disregard for their station. In the same year, they were “ordered to attend a meeting, and hear a sermon delivered upon the happy occasion.” Martin’s reflection was not on the event’s fondness but rather on the nation’s tone-deaf issuance of celebration while the soldiers were starved and cold. His statement continued, “We accordingly went, for we could not help it. I heard a sermon, a ‘thanksgiving sermon,’ what sort of one I do not know now, nor did I at the time I heard it, I had something else to think upon, my belly put me in remembrance of the fine thanksgiving dinner I was to partake of when I could get it.”[35]
Martin composed his comments to convey his discontent rather than actual dismissal because the following lines stated the sermon’s topic, demonstrating that he did remember the message despite his unhappiness. The preacher, which Martin did not refer to by name or as a chaplain, took his sermon from the book of Luke, chapter three, “And the soldiers said unto him, And what shall we do? And he said unto them, Do violence to no man, nor accuse any one falsely.”[36] Again, Martin pressed the issue of inattentive leadership by stating that the audience of hungry soldiers who were experiencing a backlog of pay finished the purposefully incomplete verse as “a hundred tongues” shouted the final line “and be content with your wages.”[37] Martin depicted the clergyman’s ineffectiveness in communicating and engaging the soldiers in a beneficial way. The chorus of soldiers that responded identifies a cohort of religiously knowledgeable soldiers. It gives credence to the case argued here, that Martin while likely more educated than the standard soldier, was still a religious man in a profession wrought with religious men.
When considering Martin’s negative comments regarding chaplains, they seem irreconcilable with his feelings toward England’s denial of a clergyman to Captain Hale as he faced execution.[38] However, the greater context of Martin’s beliefs and frustrations depicted more agreements than issues. The evidence discussed proved Martin’s intimacy with his beliefs, so he did not dislike all religious leaders. He, and the other soldiers, were less receptive to the chaplains because the army was not meeting their base needs. Toward the end of 1782, Martin offered a list of what the soldiers valued, “We were allowed the kitchen and a comfortable fire, and we happened to have, just then, what a soldier of the revolution valued next to the welfare of his country, and his own honour, that is, something to eat, and being all in good health, and having the prospect of a quiet night’s rest.”[39] The first two were what kept the men fighting, their prime motivations, and the last three were basic needs that went unattended for a large part of the war.
In Martin’s eyes, God provided for the army, not the men who led it. He wrote, “But a kind and holy providence took more notice and better care of us than did the country in whose service we were wearing away our lives by piecemeal.”[40] He made this statement in recollection of the army marching towards Valley Forge with desertion or starvation as the only options. However, Martin and the other men did not consider leaving the army because they “were determined to persevere as long as such hardships were not altogether intolerable” to honor their commitment to the nation’s defense.[41] Another instance of extreme hunger occurred in 1780 when Martin’s unit joined the main army, and their hopes for better conditions rose. The army did not meet these expectations, and the men’s motivation plummeted. Martin wrote, “The men were now exasperated beyond endurance; they could not stand it any longer; they saw no other alternative but to starve to death, or break up the army, give all up and go home.”[42] God prevented those circumstances from becoming intolerable. He made the separation between Godly and human care, which led him to categorize the chaplains under the poor leadership of the army rather than the divine leadership of his God.
Conclusion
Americans intertwined religion into all facets of their life. Political and military leaders saw the opportunity to strengthen performance through confidence and improved discipline. The army chaplains employed in that goal were concerned with both physical and religious warfare. They aimed to embody the ideals they preached while preparing soldiers for combat and providing confidence through divine protection and spiritual reward upon their death. The soldiers were at the receiving end of this rhetorical pipeline. Many, like Martin, entered the army with established beliefs, which influenced their political understanding of the war, and if Martin can serve as an example, they relied on these beliefs throughout their service.
Throughout Martin’s narrative, religious evidence pointed to a myriad of ways his beliefs manifested. They were a comfort system or coping mechanism he relied on for sustained motivation. The scholarly arguments that dismiss religiously fueled martial motivations often do not consider the totality of war’s experiences. The men were not only soldiers during combat; they constantly endured hardship. When considered through that lens, their beliefs were among the more critical motivators for maintaining loyalty to the army.
Chaplains have rightfully received substantial credit for their ability to communicate political ideas and mobilize Americans in the Revolution. However, the study of Martin’s narrative suggested the chaplains provided religious maintenance rather than creating motivation where it did not exist, possibly handicapped by their ties to the logistical failures of the army at large. Martin participated in divine services because they were mandatory, not to cultivate new beliefs or get a spiritual recharge needed to fight. However, additional paths still need investigating. Establishing Martin as a starting point for this type of investigation should open the door to measure the available diaries, journals, and letters to create a broader historiography across this crucial area of history. Upon entry, many soldiers had strong beliefs which Martin’s narrative suggests may have had a significant impact on whether they stayed to finish their contract or deserted. A similar social approach that looks at soldiers with or without ingrained Christian beliefs who did or did not desert to determine if trends are identifiable would be a valuable next step in completing the picture of Revolutionary religious motivation in the American army.
[1] Patricia U. Bonomi, Under the Cope of Heaven: Religion, Society, and Politics in Colonial America, (New York: Oxford University Press, 1986), viii.
[2] Fred Anderson, A People’s Army: Massachusetts Soldiers and Society in the Seven Years’ War (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 1984), 196.
[3] Joseph Plumb Martin, A Narrative of A Revolutionary Soldier, (New York: New American Library, 2001), 247-249.
[4] Robert Middlekauff, “Why Men Fought in the American Revolution,” Huntington Library Quarterly, 43 no. 2, (Spring 1980): 135. https://www.jstor.org/stable/3817391.
[5] “Joseph Plumb Martin,” National Park Service, November 27, 2021, www.nps.gov/people/joseph-plumb-martin.htm.
[6] “Joseph Plumb Martin, Everyman,” The American Revolution Institute of The Society of the Cincinnati, February 20,2020, www.americanrevolutioninstitute.org/joseph-plumb-martin-everyman/.
[7] “Martin, Everyman.”
[8] “Joseph Plumb Martin,” National Park Service.
[9] Martin, A Narrative, 82.
[10] Ibid., 83.
[11] Ibid., 79.
[12] Ibid., 79-80.
[13] Ibid., 189.
[14] Ibid.
[15] Ibid., 100-101.
[16] Ibid., 165.
[17] Ibid., 89.
[18] Ibid., 115.
[19] Ibid., 115-116.
[20] Ibid., 29.
[21] Ibid., 29-30.
[22] Judges 16:1-3.
[23] Miles Van Pelt, “What Was Samson Doing with a Prostitute in Gaza?” The Gospel Coalition, June 2, 2015, www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/what-was-samson-doing-with-a-prostitute-in-gaza/.
[24] Martin, A Narrative, 58.
[25] Job 2:7.
[26] Job 2:9-10.
[27] Martin, A Narrative, 176.
[28] Ibid.
[29] Luke 22:3; John 13:27.
[30] T.K. Byron, “John Andre,” George Washington’s Mount Vernon, www.mountvernon.org/library/digitalhistory/digital-encyclopedia/article/john-andre/; Nancy Finlay, “Nathan Hale: The Man and the Legend,” Connecticut History, June 7, 2021, connecticuthistory.org/nathan-hale-the-man-and-the-legend/.
[31] Martin, A Narrative, 178.
[32] Ibid.
[33] Ibid., 5-6.
[34] Ibid., 70.
[35] Ibid., 87.
[36] Ibid.; Luke 3:14.
[37] Martin, A Narrative, 87-88.
[38] Ibid., 178.
[39] Ibid., 212.
[40] Ibid., 89.
[41] Ibid.
[42] Ibid., 157.
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