Rich Tenorio 

‘More complicated than we think’: the untold story of LGBTQ+ rights in the American Revolution

Gay historian John McCurdy uncovers the little-known tale of Robert Newburgh – a British army chaplain accused of homosexuality – in new book Vicious and Immoral
  
  

Black and white image of troops pressing forward during a war
George Washington encourages his troops at the Battle of Princeton on 3 January 1777 during the American revolutionary war. Photograph: Design Pics Editorial/Design Pics/Universal Images Group/Getty Images

Individual rights are synonymous with the American Revolution. While many of the debates that built up to the revolution centered around taxes, a little-known legal controversy from the era suggests that the crown and colonists also differed when it came to LGBTQ+ rights.

Serving with the 18th Regiment of Foot in Philadelphia, the British army chaplain Robert Newburgh was accused of having had sexual relations with a man – or as it was known at the time, buggery. Viewing his standing within the regiment as undermined, Newburgh sought recourse in a variety of court cases culminating with a court martial in 1774 – the year before the revolution.

Almost two and a half centuries later, the Eastern Michigan University history professor John McCurdy came across the story and saw parallels between Newburgh’s defense of his rights and the colonists’ standing up for theirs. To McCurdy, it was a chance to illuminate a rarely documented LGBTQ+ narrative within the revolutionary period, in his new book, Vicious and Immoral: Homosexuality, the American Revolution, and the Trials of Robert Newburgh.

“The American Revolution is a much more complicated process than we think,” McCurdy says. “The experience of the American Revolution is … a lot more diverse,” including with regard to women, Black people, Native Americans – and LGBTQ+ individuals.

McCurdy calls his book “a way to think about people who are very much a part of our culture and country. What is their story in the revolution? What promises and possibilities did the revolution hold for men like Robert Newburgh?”

With the Trump administration about to return to office, McCurdy addressed the relevance his book might have for the upcoming political moment in America.

“I think [Trump] always defies expectations on LGBTQ+ issues,” McCurdy says. “His treasury secretary designate is an openly gay man … he would be the highest-ranking homosexual in the capital at that point. At the same time, of course, Trump and some of his partners have engaged in some really nasty homophobia. This is a contradiction that’s always been there with different people and different opinions.”

A revolutionary war scholar, McCurdy is himself a gay man.

“I have long wanted to write a book about homosexuality, especially in this era,” McCurdy says, calling Newburgh’s case “a real find” and adding: “There was no way I could write a book about homosexuality in the American Revolution and not come out in the introduction.” Of his identity, he says: “I don’t think it colors my perception of the case. I tried to be as honest as possible and not claim anything that I can’t back up in the documents.”

The book is a window into differing perceptions of homosexuality across the Atlantic in the 18th century.

“With homosexuality in Britain and the US”. McCurdy says, “after 1780, the British were much more acute and punitive. Laws increased, executions increased … in the colonies, a lot of people looked the other way.

“I’m not saying it was OK to be gay [in the colonies] in the 18th century,” McCurdy adds. “But there was an interest in not asking too many questions.”

Newburgh, who never married or had children, grew up in a well-to-do Protestant family in Ireland. Graduating from Trinity College, he was well-versed in literature and an accomplished horseback rider. He embarked upon a career in the Anglican priesthood. Yet he was dogged by accusations of having sex with a male servant who was also his foster brother. During a monthlong stay in Sligo, they allegedly slept in the same bed. According to the book, they had done so since Newburgh’s childhood, but it was a common practice and Newburgh also cited his chronic illness as a reason.

Even as Newburgh successfully applied for a chaplaincy in the British army, the accusations lingered. One who knew of them was his countryman Thomas Batt, a former officer in the 18th, which was nicknamed the Royal Irish. When Batt learned who would be the new chaplain of the regiment, he sent a condemnatory letter to Newburgh.

Batt got to Philadelphia ahead of Newburgh, set up a liquor store and alerted the regiment’s captains. Soon the chaplain felt that he had become the target of disrespect, including jokes at his expense. His attempts to clear his name triggered multiple legal cases and divided the regiment.

The captains were almost unanimous in their opposition to Newburgh, while lower-ranking officers tended to support the chaplain. There was also a divide in how they felt about the patriot cause. The captains opposing Newburgh stayed faithful British soldiers during the revolution, while the junior officers deserted to the patriots and remained in the colonies post-independence.

One enlisted man’s stance changed over time: Pte Nicholas Gaffney. He had quarreled with his superior, Capt John Shee, and pursued legal recourse. The subsequent court martial initially went badly for Gaffney – until his tactics changed mid-proceedings. Shee – correctly – saw in this the hand of Newburgh. The chaplain ultimately masterminded Gaffney’s case behind the scenes, to no avail. The private was sentenced to 1,000 lashes, a punishment halted at 600 due to fears over its harshness. Gaffney turned against his benefactor, through testimony in a court martial of Newburgh that the chaplain had called at his own request, seeking to clear his reputation.

As the book details, Newburgh stumbled over representing himself – until it was time for the closing arguments. He invoked soaring ideals of the Enlightenment, which had challenged the divine right of kings with a call for individual liberties. The verdict was a mixed bag – Newburgh was guilty of some charges, acquitted of others, and received a six-month suspension without pay. Litigious to the last minute, he made appeals, including to Gen Gage, and finally had his sentence commuted after three months.

By this time, members of the Royal Irish were passing through New Jersey and New York en route to the hotbed of Massachusetts; some would fight and die in the early battles of the revolution. Not so for Newburgh. He initially stayed in New York, where his court martial had taken place. Then, as tensions rose in the city, he opted to return to Europe – forever, as it turned out. During the revolution, he also retired from the military.

While Newburgh ultimately left North America, McCurdy holds that the chaplain’s legacy remains, in terms of LGBTQ+ rights.

“For me, the book is a very optimistic story, beyond the military,” McCurdy says. “I do think there is this American tradition of sexual liberation … We have not just become this open, accepting society in the late 20th century. There’s a longer tradition of the US being more open to sexual minorities than we might have assumed.”

 

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