Muse

Hello, American History Teller listeners. I have an exciting announcement. I'm going on tour and coming to a theater near you. This live show is a thrilling evening of history, storytelling, and music, with a full band accompanying me as we look back to explore the days that made America. And they aren't the days that you might think. Sure, everyone knows July 4th, 1776. We'll be hearing a lot about that date this year. But there are many other days that are maybe even more influential. So come out to see me live. More shows to be announced soon. So for information on tickets and upcoming dates, go to AmericanHistoryLive.com. That's AmericanHistoryLive.com. Come see my Days That Made America tour live on stage. Go to AmericanHistoryLive.com. Imagine it's a humid night in July 1781, and you're inside a tent in the British Army camp in Portsmouth, Virginia. You left your plantation with the permission of your owner to serve as a spy for the Continental Army. And after gaining the trust of the British General Lord Charles Cornwallis, he's made you his personal servant, unaware that you've been passing information to aid the Patriot cause. As Cornwallis and his aides discuss strategy around a small table, you step forward with an open bottle of wine. More wine, sir? Yeah, for my officers, too. You fill their glasses, careful not to spill a drop, and you step back into the shadows, keeping your eyes lowered, while Cornwallis traces his finger over a map of the Virginia coast. Now, see, I intend to make Yorktown our base of operations. Their port is deep enough for our warships, and at the start of August, we'll move 9,000 troops there and begin fortifying the town. Your mind races as you store away this information. Cornwallis glances towards you, and for a moment, you fear you've been caught. You, come closer, boy. I want to talk to you. You walk toward the general, bowing your head. What can I do for you, sir? You've served me well. Thank you, sir. So I have a proposal. I want you to run away. What do you mean, sir? It's simple. All you need to do is make your way to the rebel camps. Find their leaders and present yourself as a runaway slave. Then start gathering information. I want to know their numbers, their troop movements, their supplies. Your heart is racing with excitement, but you keep your face neutral, pretending to hesitate. But sir, what if they find me out? Wouldn't I be hanged? I'm confident that you can gain their trust. They won't suspect a thing. Yes, sir. When would you like me to go? All right. Tomorrow night. Yes, sir, tomorrow night. Cornwallis returns to his map and you step back to the corner of the tent. Can't believe your luck. By ordering you to spy on the Patriots, Cornwallis has just given you the perfect opportunity to head back to the American camps and inform them of the British Army's plans for Yorktown.

You've seen the hardships this war has caused and you know the Patriots are at their breaking point. This is the kind of intelligence that could help them gain the advantage they need to finally win the war.

I'm Raza Jafri, and in the new season of The Spy Who, we go back in time to meet Benedict Arnold, the spy who betrayed the American Revolution. As America fights for freedom from Britain, Arnold emerges as one of the rebel's greatest generals. But when his loyalty is pushed to the limit, he turns spy and devises a plot to shatter the rebellion and make George Washington a prisoner. Follow The Spy Who now, wherever you listen to podcasts. You can also listen to the full season of The Spy Who Betrayed the American Revolution early and ad-free on Audible.

From Audible Originals, I'm Lindsey Graham, and this is American History Tellers, our history, your story. In the summer of 1781, an enslaved double agent infiltrated the headquarters of British General Lord Charles Cornwallis and learned that he was moving his army to Yorktown, Virginia. This critical intelligence would pave the way for the final major battle of the Revolutionary War. By then, America had been in conflict with Britain for six agonizing years, and the patriotic fervor of 1775 had long since given way to widespread disillusionment into

despair. With no end to the war in sight, the Continental Army sought a decisive victory, but it would take the aid of the French Navy to do the impossible, defeat the British Empire, and realize the dream of American independence. This is Episode 6, The Sacred Fire of Liberty. By the spring of 1781, both the British and American armies had fought to the brink of exhaustion. After six long years of war, Britain controlled only a handful of coastal cities, including New York, Charleston, Savannah, and Newport, Rhode Island. But he was also waging a global war after France, Spain, and the Netherlands had all entered the conflict. Military spending had sent Britain's national debt soaring, fueling opposition to the war in Parliament. One member delivered a speech declaring, the expense of the war has been enormous, and yet what has the British nation received in return? Nothing but a series of ineffective victories or severe defeats. But the American war effort faced an even more acute crisis caused by massive debt, debilitating food and supply shortages, and the complete collapse of continental currency. With Congress and the Army out of money, General George Washington was despondent, admitting to one of his officers, in a word, we are at the end of our tether, and now or never, our deliverance must come. He feared that unless something changed soon, the revolution would wither and die. So to turn the tide of the war, Washington needed to challenge Britain's command of the Atlantic coast. Previous operations with the French Navy against Newport and Savannah had failed. But in May, Washington's hopes were rekindled by the news that a massive French fleet was crossing the Atlantic Ocean and would arrive on the East Coast later that summer. The only question was where French naval power could be deployed most effectively. Washington soon met with his French counterpart, the Comte de Rochambeau, who had arrived in Rhode Island the previous year with 5,000 soldiers under his command. Washington was set on attacking New York, the site of his humiliating defeat in 1776, and where 14,000 British troops were stationed under their commander-in-chief, Sir Henry Clinton. But Rochambeau strongly favored a joint operation against Virginia, where Clinton's second-in-command, Lord Charles Cornwallis, was marching with his Southern Army. Rochambeau insisted that any victory would not be complete as long as the British controlled the South. But ultimately, the decision was not theirs to make. Only the French naval commander at the Comte de Grasse could decide where to deploy his fleet. So while awaiting the French Navy's arrival, Washington and Rochambeau agreed to prepare an operation against New York while remaining ready to move south if circumstances required. Rochambeau began marching his army to New York to join Washington's forces, but in the meantime, Cornwallis blazed a trail of destruction across Virginia.

In May, one of his officers, the notorious cavalry leader Bannister Tarleton, captured seven state legislators in Charlottesville. Governor Thomas Jefferson narrowly escaped by fleeing on horseback. And by June, Cornwallis was marching toward southeastern Virginia. Trailing behind his army were more than 4,000 former slaves who sought freedom behind British lines, including men and women from Jefferson and Washington's plantations. But while the British terrorized Virginia, the Patriots were unleashing chaos of their own in the Carolinas. In the summer of 1781, General Nathaniel Green and Francis Marion, the guerrilla leader nicknamed Swamp Fox, recaptured British outposts to weaken their enemy's grip on the Lower South. The warfare was as brutal as ever, with men on both sides burning homes, plundering farms, and torturing and murdering their captives. And by summer's end, British territory in the South was limited to just three coastal towns—Wilmington, Charleston, and Savannah. Then, in mid-August, Washington finally learned that the Comte de Grasse had decided to sail his fleet to Virginia and not to New York. Soon after, word arrived about the precise location of Cornwallis' Virginia army. This intelligence came from the enslaved double agent James Armistead, who had enlisted with the Marquis de Lafayette's unit with the permission of his patriot owner. Lafayette had Armistead infiltrate the British camps in Virginia by posing as a runaway slave who was willing to spy on the Americans. After gaining the trust of the infamous turncoat Benedict Arnold and Cornwallis himself, Armistead learned that Cornwallis was moving roughly 9,000 troops to Yorktown, Virginia, a bustling tobacco port on the peninsula in the Chesapeake Bay. Armistead warned Lafayette, who then passed the information to Washington. With this crucial piece of intelligence, Washington and Rochambeau realized that if the French Navy could seize control of the Chesapeake, their combined armies could trap Cornwallis at Yorktown. But while Washington prepared to march south, he took elaborate measures to fool British General Clinton into thinking that New York remained Washington's target. He leaked fake battle plans, planted false information with British spies, and built large encampments in plain sight of Clinton's army. Then, after leaving a small force behind in New York, in mid-August, Washington and Rochambeau led 8,000 French and American troops on a 450-mile march south to Virginia. These Allied forces were still on their way when the Comte de Grasse sailed his fleet into the Chesapeake Bay, intending to block off the primary waterway for resupplying the British forces at Yorktown. DeGrasse positioned his ships at the narrow entrance to the Chesapeake between two capes. But on September 5th, French lookouts spotted the British Navy on the horizon. A fierce battle began for control of the bay. And after hours of heavy fighting, the battered British ships were forced to withdraw to New York for repairs, leaving the French in command of the

Chesapeake and Cornwallis' Yorktown army cut off from the sea. Then on September 28th, the French and American forces, now 18,000 strong with the addition of new reinforcements, arrived near Yorktown. They formed a crescent around the town to begin preparations for a siege. Cornwallis was outnumbered two to one, and in a desperate attempt to avoid being spread too thin, he withdrew his forces from their outer defenses and concentrated them within Yorktown itself. It was a risky move that would only work if General Clinton followed through on his promise to dispatch British reinforcements from New York. In the meantime, the Allies quickly occupied the outer defenses the British had abandoned, and under the supervision of French engineers, the Allied soldiers worked day and night digging a long line of trenches to bring their artillery closer to British lines. British cannons hurled shells at the Allies as they worked, but with every passing day, the noose around the British Army tightened. Imagine it's the night of October 3rd, 1781 in Yorktown, Virginia. You're a lieutenant colonel in the British Army, and you're in the brick mansion Lord Cornwallis has commandeered as his headquarters. You drink tea with him in the parlor, sitting beside the warmth of a crackling fire. These comforts, though, only offer the illusion of security, because you know your days are numbered. Sir, I'm not sure how much longer our army can remain barricaded in Yorktown. Now that we've given up our outer defenses, I believe it's time we try to fight our way out. Hornwallis raises his eyebrows over his teacup. How do you suggest we do that? We could try to sail northwest up the York River. Of course, it wouldn't be easy getting our entire army up the river at once. Not to mention the French could easily cover the river with their artillery and force us to run a gauntlet, we'd be sitting ducks. Well, it's not ideal, but anything would be better than waiting for our enemies to destroy us. Well, I'm not worried. Our men can outlast a siege. But that's just it. I don't think they can. Smallpox is spreading through the ranks, and the soldiers are complaining about putrid meat and wormy biscuits. They can't survive on these meager provisions. Cornwallis waves his hand dismissively. Well, they won't have to. A rescue fleet should arrive from New York any day now, along with 5,000 troops. Sir, not this again. Are you truly pinning all your hopes on Clinton's word? Why shouldn't I? He promised me that our ships would be repaired quickly and leave New York no later than October 5th. Sir, I believe you would be a fool to rely on Clinton's assurances. You must have patience. We only need to hang on for a few more days. In the meantime, I have complete faith in our cannons and fortifications. But sir, what happens if you're wrong? Cornwallis shrugs and drains his teacup. Then at least the blame will fall on Clinton. You stare off into the fire, suddenly feeling like you don't recognize the man you once considered to be Britain's most enterprising

commander. You hope he's right, though, and a rescue fleet will arrive at any moment, because if he's wrong, then your army is doomed. Behind his defenses at Yorktown, Cornwallis remained calm, confident that Clinton would soon send a rescue fleet to Virginia. But back in New York, the British Navy was delayed by lumber shortages and celebrations in honor of a visiting English prince. By the time the British fleet finally set sail, it would be too late. By October 9th, the Allies had dug trenches within musket range of the British lines, and the French artillery opened fire. Two hours later, Washington personally lit the first American cannon, and for nearly a week, American and French guns bombarded Yorktown, setting fires and shattering British defenses. To tighten the siege, Washington ordered a second parallel trench dug closer to the British lines. But blocking its completion were two British redoubts, small forts built from dirt and ring with sharpened stakes. So on the moonless night of October 14, Allied forces launched a daring assault on the earthen Forts. To maintain the element of surprise, Allied troops were forbidden from loading or priming their muskets. They would storm the redoubts only with their bayonets. The code word for the operation was Rochambeau, which the Americans translated into the battle cry, Rush on, boys! American forces under Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Hamilton captured one redoubt, while French troops seized the other after fierce fighting. One French soldier remembered, there was no mercy that night. Complaints and groans could be heard everywhere. Someone called out here, another there, begging to be killed for the love of God as the redoubt was strewn with the dead and wounded, so much so that we had to walk on them. With these troops inching closer and Allied artillery now surrounding Yorktown, Cornwallis' position was hopeless. A failed British counterattack on October 16th sealed the outcome. Later that night, Cornwallis made a last-ditch attempt to evacuate his army across the York River, but a violent storm scattered the boats and prevented their escape. The Allied cannons were still firing on the morning of October 17th when a British drummer boy appeared on a parapet beating his drum. He was joined by a British officer waving a white handkerchief tied to a sword. This was the signal that Cornwallis was ready to negotiate his surrender. The officer was blindfolded and taken behind Patriot lines for negotiations that lasted a day and a half. The British sought safe passage home, but Washington refused, recalling the harsh terms imposed on American forces after the fall of Charleston. Instead, Cornwallis' British and German troops would remain in America as prisoners of war until a formal peace could be reached. Cornwallis had no choice but to agree. So on the afternoon of October 19th, more than 7,000 British and Hessian troops marched out of Yorktown with their flags furled, walking past long lines of French and American soldiers.

The humiliated Cornwallis was nowhere to be seen. Claiming illness, he sent his second-in-command to present the sword of surrender. An American officer described the sullen mood of the British that day, writing that they, Behaved like boys who had been whipped at school. Some pouted, others cried. A Hessian captain who fought for the British marveled at what the Americans had achieved, declaring, Who would have thought a hundred years ago that out of this multitude of rabble would arise a people who could defy kings? Shortly after the surrender ceremony, Cornwallis was stunned to spot James Armistead, the double agent he considered his personal servant, in the American camps. Cornwallis reportedly told him, You rogue, then you've been playing me a trick all this time. Lafayette would later push Virginia's legislature to purchase Armistead's freedom. Lafayette also rejoiced over the victory at Yorktown, declaring, The play is over. The fifth act has just ended. Washington was more cautious, calling Yorktown an important victory and a glorious event. Washington was not alone in downplaying the significance of the victory. Even as news of Yorktown sparked celebrations throughout the country, in the moment, Americans could not yet grasp the significance of what had occurred. It would take two more years to complete the treaty that would formalize independence, but against all odds, the Americans and their French allies had won, and the world would be forever changed by their victory.

I'm Raza Jaffrey, and in the new season of The Spy Who, we open the file on Benedict Arnold, the spy who betrayed the American Revolution. America is fighting to free itself from the British Empire, and one of its foremost generals is Benedict Arnold. He's a smuggler turned battlefield hero and admired for his aggressive tactics. But when a war wound, a new wife, debts and politics test his loyalty to the max, he turns spy and devises a plot to shatter the revolution and help Britain capture rebel commander-in-chief General George Washington. And that plot would make him the most infamous traitor in US history. Follow The Spy Who now, wherever you listen to podcasts. You can also listen to the full season of The Spy Who Betrayed the American Revolution early and ad-free on Audible.

As Americans, we're constantly grappling with a fundamental question. Do we settle for the world as it is, or do we strive to create the world as it should be? Our answers tend to ebb and flow through the decades, but once, just after a war that nearly tore us apart, we came as close as we've come to answering it, and it's a story worth a closer look. I'm Michelle Obama, and I'm proud to announce Higher Ground's new podcast, Reconstruction, The Unfinished Promise, guided by best-selling author...

Malcolm Gladwell, and featuring my husband, Barack Obama, this limited series uncovers the untold stories of Reconstruction, what they mean for us today, and how our past can shape the future we choose to build. Reconstruction, The Unfinished Promise, is available now on Audible or wherever you get your podcasts.

The Battle of Yorktown was the last major battle of the American Revolution, but it did not immediately end the war. George Washington and the leaders in Congress remained in a holding pattern, uncertain how Britain would react to their defeat. So rather than disband the army, Washington began preparing to march his troops north in case fighting resumed. In the meantime, slave owners arrived in Yorktown in search of the men, women, and children who had sought freedom behind British lines. Without British troops to protect them, the former slaves had no defense against recapture by their owners. Washington assisted in these efforts, encouraging soldiers to track down runaways and ordering them to be held under guard until they could be claimed by their owners. Five runaways were returned to Thomas Jefferson, and another two were returned to Washington himself. Loyalists also faced an uncertain future after throwing their lot in with the British. In the aftermath of Yorktown, patriot mobs took revenge on the Loyalists, hunting them down and stripping them of their property. In response, many Loyalists sought refuge in New York, Charleston, and Savannah, which remained under British control. And although most Loyalists would remain in America, tens of thousands would eventually flee to Nova Scotia, Florida, and the Caribbean in mass evacuations organized by the British. The British defeat at Yorktown also ignited a political crisis in England. When the news reached London five weeks after the battle, Prime Minister Lord Frederick North was stunned. Wringing his hands, he cried out, Oh God, it's all over. But King George III was determined to keep fighting. He still had more than 30,000 troops in America, and he told the British Parliament that while the events at Yorktown were unfortunate, he planned to continue the war, to restore my deluded subjects to that happy and prosperous condition which they formally derived from obedience to the laws. But the British public had grown weary of the costly war, and Yorktown sapped any remaining resolve to continue the fighting. In February 1782, Parliament voted to end all offensive activity in North America. Lord North's government collapsed, and the new administration ordered the British Army to evacuate Savannah and Charleston and concentrate all forces in New York City. Then, in April, British officials opened peace negotiations in Paris with American diplomats Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, and John Jay. This trio ignored directions from Congress to consult their French allies, choosing instead to negotiate directly with the British. Jay explained their reasoning, writing, Let us be honest and grateful to France, but let us think for ourselves. Following lengthy discussions, the two sides reached a preliminary agreement in November 1782. The Provisional Peace Treaty officially recognized the former colonies as the free and independent United States of America, and Britain granted the new nation generous boundaries, more than doubling the territory of the original 13 colonies. America's borders would stretch north to the

Great Lakes, south to Spanish-held Florida, and west to the Mississippi River. In return, the Americans promised to honor pre-war debts still owed to British merchants, and they agreed to urge state legislatures to restore property that had been confiscated from loyalists. But by awarding vast territory to the new United States, this treaty would prove devastating for Native Americans, dispossessing tribes of their homelands regardless of their wartime alliances. And as the nation expanded westward, Native peoples would face an ongoing cycle of displacement and violence. But for the United States, the Treaty of Paris was an unambiguous triumph. Back across the Atlantic, the Continental Army went into winter quarters in Newburgh, New York while awaiting news from Paris. Until a final treaty was signed, the United States remained officially at war. But the lull in fighting and the ongoing state of suspense meant that there was nothing to distract the soldiers from their meager rations and long-delayed pay. As resentment rippled through the ranks, Washington declared, the temper of the army is much soured and has become more irritable than at any period since the commencement of the war. He was desperate to spend the winter at home in Mount Vernon, but he wrote that he believed he had no choice but to stick very close to the troops to prevent the disorders getting to an incurable height. Despite this, the simmering discontent boiled over in March 1783, when a A group of Army officers threatened to revolt against Congress unless they received jail.

generous pensions. When these officers held a meeting one morning, Washington slipped through a side door and mounted the podium, calling on them to oppose any man who wickedly attempts to open the floodgates of civil discord and deluge our rising empire in blood. Urging them to exercise patience with Congress, Washington pulled out a letter from one of the delegates. But when he struggled to discern the writing, he fumbled for his spectacles and said, Gentlemen, you must pardon me. I've grown gray in your service and now find myself growing blind. His officers had never seen Washington wear glasses, and the disarming admission moved them to tears, instantly diffusing the threat of an uprising. But to make good on his assurances, Washington wrote passionate letters to members of Congress, imploring them to provide his troops with back pay. But the Treasury was empty, and Congress could offer little more than promissory notes. One private complained, when the country had drained the last drop of service it could screw out of the poor soldiers, we returned to drift like old, worn-out horses. By April, and with no sign of new hostilities, Washington began the process of disbanding his army, personally signing thousands of discharge papers. But even as the soldiers began to make their way home, Washington remained in command, unwilling to step down until the final peace treaty was signed and British forces evacuated New York. But while the British were preparing to depart, Washington was forced to confront lingering questions about the status of former slaves. In May, he invited British General Sir Guy Carleton, now serving as commander of British forces in America, to meet with him about reclaiming the enslaved people the British had freed. Imagine it's May 6, 1783, 1783, and you're in the dining room of a stately home in Tappan, New York. You're a general with the British Army, and you're seated across from George Washington at a grand oak table piled with platters of meat and cheese. You've exchanged curt letters for the past year, but this is your first time meeting in person. Washington puts down his four and straightens in his chair, clearly ready to get down to business. I must begin with the most urgent matter at hand, the return of runaway slaves to their rightful owners. You drop your own fork and frown. I intend to protect the freedom of all black loyalists who rallied to our side during the war. While I've been flooded with furious letters from slaveholders, inquiring about the fate of their property, are you telling me that you have no intention of returning them? None at all. Then you will be complicit in the theft of American property, in clear violation of the Treaty of Paris. General, with all due respect, I must insist that any slave who was behind British lines before November 30th, 1782, the day the preliminary treaty was signed, those persons are British subjects and therefore under my protection. I do not believe the particulars matter. What you are doing goes against the spirit of the treaty. General, to be frank, I don't know what you

would have me do. The evacuations are already well underway. I've already shipped 6,000 people from New York to Nova Scotia. Many of those men and women were former slaves. Washington stares at you in horror. What? I must demand that you put a stop to all evacuations until slave owners can retrieve their property. Sir, absolutely not. My country's honor compels me to uphold the promises made to all British subjects, regardless of their skin color. And what about the slaves who remain in New York? I'm not going to hand them over to the slave catchers, if that's what you're asking. Before Washington can answer, one of his personal slaves enters the room with a pot of coffee. Washington acknowledges him with a nod. Thank you, Billy. As the servant fills Washington's cup, you sense the anger bubbling beneath the general's calm exterior. You're no abolitionist, but as far as you're concerned, a promise made is a promise kept. In May 1783, British General Guy Carlton infuriated George Washington by refusing to return slaves freed by the British to their former owners. He told Washington, I had no right to deprive them of that liberty. Washington did not yet know that one of the men who had already left New York on a ship bound for Nova Scotia was his own former slave, Harry Washington, who had escaped to the British lines in 1776. And although Washington remained frustrated with the British over this issue, he was relieved a few months later when news arrived of a definitive peace. At last, on September 3, 1783, the Treaty of Paris was signed, officially bringing the American Revolution to an end more than eight years after the first shots were fired at Lexington and Concord. In the aftermath of the treaty, the British government ordered their army to evacuate New York. And in late November, the British finally completed the long process of transporting more than 30,000 soldiers and sailors out of New York City, along with another 30,000 loyalists and former slaves. But the city they left behind had been transformed by years of British occupation. The damage caused by the massive 1776 fire had not yet been repaired, and many residents still lived in tents and shacks. Animals roamed the streets, and the city was full of empty lots and charred ruins. Prison ships were still anchored in the East River, where more than 11,000 American prisoners of war had died in horrific conditions. The burned-out city was a testament to the cost of the fight for independence. Over the course of the war, an estimated 6,800 Americans were killed in action. Disease was far more lethal, with at least 17,000 dying from illnesses such as smallpox, typhus, and dysentery. Total deaths amounted to roughly 1% of the population, equivalent to nearly 3.5 million Americans dying today. But the same day the British left New York, George Washington re-entered the city for

the first time since he was forced to abandon it in 1776. Riding his gray horse, he led his soldiers in a triumphant parade down the length of Manhattan Island. New Yorkers celebrated their victory with days of fireworks and bonfires. And a week later, Washington gathered his officers in a tavern in Lower Manhattan for an emotional goodbye. One by one, the officers stepped forward to embrace him. One member of his staff remembered, such a scene of sorrow and weeping I had never before witnessed. From there, Washington traveled to Annapolis, Maryland, where Congress was now meeting, to formally resign his commission as Commander-in-Chief. His decision to relinquish power and return to life as a private citizen symbolized a key tenet of the new republic, the supremacy of civilian authority over military power. Then, after resigning his commission, Washington mounted his horse once again and set off on the 50-mile ride home to Mount Vernon. After eight long years of overwhelming responsibility and struggle, Washington was ready to return to the quiet life of a farmer, but before long, he would be called back into the service of the country he fought to create to confront the problems of peace.

You there, tis I, Queen Mortuana of the Night Realm, a.k.a. Kate McKinnon, and her raven minion Jojo, a.k.a. Emily Lynn. If you do not download and binge my show, Heads Will Roll, Air Apparent, on Audible, I will cut off your head! Oh no, maybe just tell them about the guest stars like Richard Kind, Carrie Coon, Jimmy Fallon, at all. But they were in it, and if you don't listen to them, then I will cut off your tongue, then cut off your head, and then put the tongue in the head hole. Aw, you tried. Listen now exclusively on Audible and Dental of the Audible app today, or off with your head! I'm kidding.

Once Americans had won their independence, they wrestled with the challenge of building a government that would endure. They were embarking on an experiment without precedent. The world was watching, and no one knew if they would succeed. Storm clouds gathered in the 1780s with a series of events that threatened to tear the new nation apart. Under the Articles of Confederation, the United States was little more than a fragile alliance of 13 sovereign states that competed for dominance, fought over borders, and imposed taxes on their neighbors. The federal government was too feeble to force the British Army to abandon western forts they continued to occupy in defiance of the Treaty of Paris. And the revolution had left the United States in crippling debt, but Congress had no revenue with which to repay it. Making things worse, independence left America without its biggest trading partner. Britain was closed to American exports. And soon, the crisis facing the country took an ominous turn in rural Massachusetts. For years, a state legislature, dominated by merchant elites, had handed down heavy taxes, demanding payment and scarce hard currency of silver and gold. And when poor, debt-ridden farmers fell behind on their payments, they faced foreclosure and jail time. Finally, in the summer of 1786, one desperate war veteran led his neighbors in revolt. Imagine it's September 26, 1786, at the courthouse in Springfield, Massachusetts. You're the commander of the state militia, and you've hastily gathered 200 militiamen to confront 600 armed protesters marching past the courthouse to prevent it from opening. Some wear faded Continental Army uniforms. Many have tucked sprigs of evergreen in their hats, pointed symbols of resistance to tyranny. Their leader, Captain Daniel Shays, bounds up the steps to approach you. May I speak? speak with you for a moment, General? You take in the man who started all this. He has a soldierly bearing, and his righteous anger is palpable. You may. You know these men. They served with honor. They fought and bled for this country, but still, all these years later, they wait to be paid for their service. All the while, the state demands our hard-earned money, and this very court seizes homes and farms from men who can barely feed their children. You know all this. So let me ask you, is this the liberty we fought for? No one is denying the hardships you face, but that is no excuse for assembling an armed mob. We only ask that the court ceases their proceedings until the people's complaints are heard. Absolutely not. The court will not be governed by a mob. It must continue its business. Then dismiss your militia. My men mean no harm. I'm afraid I can't do that either. You may march in front of the courthouse, but there must be no violence. We're here to ensure that. You act like we're a common rabble. We'll keep the peace. You glance at the crowd

marching restlessly behind him. With some of the men armed only with sticks, your mind flashes to the federal arsenal nearby. It occurs to you that these men would jump at the chance to seize more deadly weapons. You'll keep the peace, you say. I'll see that you do. Shay's eyes narrow, but he says nothing. I mean it, Captain. One spark is all it takes. If your men lose control, this protest of yours turns into a full-fledged rebellion. If you move on this courthouse or endanger the judges inside, I will have to answer with force. Shays holds your gaze for a moment, his jaw tightening with barely restrained anger. I understand, General. Shays turns around and walks back down the steps to his followers. He's right that you know these men. They're poor and struggling, but they also understand that their government is weak. It seems that if something doesn't change soon. There might yet again be violence in America. Revolutionary War veteran Daniel Shays had fought at the battles of Bunker Hill and Saratoga, but when he returned home wounded, he struggled to keep his farm. Beginning in August 1786, Shays and his followers forced the shutdown of several Massachusetts courts to prevent debt collection proceedings. But the state government refused to listen to their demands or make any changes. So for Shays and the others, there was only one course of action left. In January 1787, 1,500 men stormed the federal arsenal in Springfield, Massachusetts, to seize weapons ahead of a march on the state capitol. Ultimately, militiamen quelled this uprising. But for many, Shays' rebellion, as this event came to be known, was the final straw, proving that America's bare federal government was dangerously weak. Under the Articles of Confederation, almost all power rested with the states. Congress lacked the authority to tax, regulate trade, pay the nation's debts, or even raise and maintain an army. There was no chief executive and no federal courts to enforce laws. But many Americans felt conflicted about strengthening the government, fearing it would cost them the freedoms they had fought for. Writer Mercy Otis Warren, the leading female intellectual of the era, summarized the dilemma, writing, On the one hand, we stand in need of a strong federal government founded on principles that will support the prosperity and union of the states. On the other, we have struggled for liberty and made lofty sacrifices at her shrine. But despite these concerns, Shea's rebellion crystallized the need for a convention to revise the Articles of Confederation. The shock of the uprising also drew George Washington out of retirement and back into public life. In May 1787, he was among the 55 delegates from all 13 states who gathered in Philadelphia for the Constitutional Convention. And after four months of furious debate,

these men had drafted a new federal constitution. During the proceedings, one of the fundamental questions confronting the delegates was how much authority the federal government should wield. They ultimately designed a system of checks and balances to prevent tyranny and abuse of power. But seven weeks in, the problem of representation in Congress threatened to derail the convention. Tempers frayed with delegates from small states demanding equal representation and delegates from large states demanding representation based on population. This impasse was finally resolved by the decision to divide Congress into the House and Senate, what became known as the Great Compromise. But the thorniest issue of all concerned the future of slavery. Although many oppose slavery, Southern delegates threatened to leave the proceedings if the Constitution restricted it, forcing a series of uneasy compromises that allowed slavery to continue despite revolutionary ideals of liberty and equality. The Constitution's primary architect, James Madison, admitted, great as the evil of slavery. is, a dismemberment of the Union would be worse. It would take another 75 years until his fears came to pass and a far bloodier conflict, the American Civil War, forced a definitive reckoning over the issue of slavery. But well before then, on September 17, 1787, the delegates signed the Constitution and sent it to the states for ratification. The ratification process sparked more bitter debates across the country, resulting in the addition of the Bill of Rights, guaranteeing individual civil liberties and checks on federal power. Among the rights enshrined were the freedom of worship, freedom of the press and of speech, and the separation of church and state. And only once the amended constitution was ratified could the new government finally take shape. So it was in 1789 that George Washington was unanimously elected as the first president of the United States. It would be up to his administration to breathe life into the Constitution, establish precedents, and navigate threats to the young nation's survival. But in his inaugural address, he affirmed that the preservation of freedom and democracy was a responsibility shared by all Americans. He declared, the sacred fire of liberty and the destiny of the Republican model of government are staked on the experiment and trusted to the hands of the American people. On July 3, 1776, the day before the signing of the Declaration of Independence, John Adams had written a letter to his wife Abigail, reflecting on the gravity of the decision before them. He wrote, I am well aware of the toil and blood and treasure that it will cost us to maintain this declaration. But even then, when the odds seemed insurmountable, Adams could imagine a bright future for the new United States of America, declaring, Through all the gloom, I can see the rays of ravishing light and glory. I can see that the end is more than worth all the means.

The toil, blood, and treasure Adams predicted amounted to eight long years of chaos and sacrifice in a revolution that gave birth to the world's first modern republic. From the start, there were cracks in the foundation. No one knew if the United States would last. Victory over Great Britain was not the end of the struggle, but the beginning of an ongoing experiment. And ever since, Americans have been debating the meaning of the revolution and how best to live up to its promises. The United States has faced deep division, threats from within, and a legacy of inequality and exclusion that has undermined its founding ideals. But two and a half centuries later, the American Revolution endures as a shared national origin story of hard-won liberty and noble purpose, a reminder not only of where we began, but the future we are still striving to create. From Audible Originals, this is episode six of our six-part series on the American Revolution for American History Tellers. On the next episode, I speak with Dr. Scott Stevenson, President and CEO of Philadelphia's Museum of the American Revolution. We'll talk about the war's true complexity, the forgotten voices, and how the objects people left behind still bring that story to life today. Follow American History Tellers on the Audible app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to all episodes of American History Tellers ad-free by joining Audible. And to find out more about me and my other projects, including my live stage show coming to a theater near you, go to NotThatLindseyGraham.com. That's NotThatLindseyGraham.com. American History Tellers is hosted, edited, and produced by me, Lindsey Graham for Airship. This episode is written by Ellie Stanton. Edited by Dorian Marina. Senior Producers are Alita Rozanski and Andy Herman Managing Producer Desi Blaylock Audio Editing by Mohamed Shazib Music by Throne Sound Design by Molly Bach Executive Producer for Audible Jenny Lauer-Beckman Head of Creative Development at Audible Kate Naven Head of Audible Originals North America Marshall Louie and Chief Content Officer Rachel Kiyotzen Copyright 2026 by Audible Originals LLC Sound recording copyright 2026 by Audible Originals, LLC.