Timeline

Continental Congress Arrives in York

**The Continental Congress Arrives in York, 1777** In the autumn of 1777, the American Revolution reached one of its most precarious moments. The British army, commanded by General Sir William Howe, had launched a determined campaign to capture Philadelphia, the young nation's capital and the seat of the Continental Congress. After defeating General George Washington's forces at the Battle of Brandywine on September 11, the British advanced steadily toward the city. The Continental Congress, recognizing that its capture would deal a devastating symbolic and practical blow to the American cause, made the painful decision to abandon Philadelphia. What followed was an urgent and humbling flight westward that would eventually bring the national legislature to the small town of York, Pennsylvania, where it would remain for nine critical months. The delegates initially evacuated to Lancaster, arriving on September 27, 1777. Lancaster was the largest inland town in the colonies, but Congress quickly determined that it was still too close to the advancing British forces. The Susquehanna River, one of the widest and most formidable natural barriers in the region, offered a more defensible line of separation. On September 30, the delegates crossed the river and arrived in York, a modest town of roughly eighteen hundred residents. The community was predominantly German-speaking, deeply rooted in its Pennsylvania Dutch culture, and far removed from the cosmopolitan atmosphere of Philadelphia. York lacked the grand public buildings, printing houses, and bustling taverns that had made Philadelphia the political and intellectual heart of the Revolution. Yet what York offered was something Philadelphia could not: safety. Its position west of the Susquehanna placed a significant geographic obstacle between Congress and the British army, giving the delegates the breathing room they desperately needed to continue governing. The York County Courthouse, a modest brick building on the town square, became the unlikely meeting place for the national legislature. Here, delegates including Samuel Adams, John Adams, John Hancock, and other leading figures of the Revolution gathered to conduct the business of a nation at war. The conditions were far from ideal. Delegates competed for lodging in private homes, and the town's limited infrastructure strained under the sudden demands of hosting the government. Yet the work carried out in York proved to be of enormous consequence. It was during the Congress's stay in York that the Articles of Confederation, the first governing document of the United States, were debated, finalized, and adopted on November 15, 1777. This document, though later replaced by the Constitution, represented the first formal attempt to unite the thirteen states under a shared framework of government and was a critical step in establishing American political identity. Congress also grappled with serious military and diplomatic matters during its time in York. The delegates worked to manage the war effort, contend with supply shortages that plagued Washington's army, and navigate the complex politics of seeking foreign alliances. It was during this period that news arrived of the American victory at the Battle of Saratoga in October 1777, a turning point that helped persuade France to enter the war as an American ally. The Treaty of Alliance with France, ratified by Congress in May 1778, was one of the most significant diplomatic achievements of the Revolution, and much of the groundwork for this alliance was laid while Congress sat in York. The stay in York ended in June 1778, after the British evacuated Philadelphia in response to the French alliance and shifting strategic priorities. Congress returned to its former capital, but the months spent in York had proven that the American government could endure displacement, hardship, and uncertainty without collapsing. The episode demonstrated a resilience that was essential to the Revolution's ultimate success. Today, the reconstructed Colonial Courthouse in York stands as a reminder of this pivotal chapter. The Continental Congress's time in York may lack the dramatic grandeur of battlefield victories, but it represents something equally important: the survival of democratic governance under extraordinary pressure, and the determination of a fledgling nation to persist even in its darkest hours.

National Day of Thanksgiving Proclaimed

Congress proclaimed the first national day of thanksgiving while meeting in York, designating December 18, 1777, as a day for Americans to give thanks for the victory at Saratoga and other blessings. The proclamation was both a genuine expression of gratitude and a morale-building exercise at a time when the war's outcome remained deeply uncertain. The proclamation reflected Congress's understanding that maintaining public support required more than military orders. Setting aside a day for communal gratitude helped reinforce the sense of national purpose and provided a moment of unity during a winter of military setbacks and political anxiety.

Board of War Reorganized

**The Reorganization of the Board of War: A Struggle for Control in the Midst of Revolution** By the autumn of 1777, the American Revolution had reached a moment of profound internal tension. The Continental Army, battered by defeats at Brandywine and Germantown, was preparing to enter its brutal winter encampment at Valley Forge, Pennsylvania. Meanwhile, the Continental Congress, driven from Philadelphia by the British occupation of the capital, had relocated to the small town of York, Pennsylvania, where it struggled to govern a fragile union of thirteen states in the grip of war. It was in this atmosphere of crisis, frustration, and political maneuvering that Congress undertook a dramatic reorganization of the Board of War, a decision that would expose the deep fault lines between civilian authority and military command that ran through the heart of the revolutionary experiment. The Board of War had existed in various forms since 1776, originally functioning as a congressional committee tasked with overseeing military affairs. But the demands of a prolonged war had overwhelmed its capacity. Supply chains were in disarray, enlistments were expiring, and the army was chronically short of clothing, food, and ammunition. Soldiers at Valley Forge would soon face starvation and exposure, with thousands lacking shoes and blankets as winter set in. Congress recognized that the existing system of military administration was failing, and many delegates believed a more powerful, independent board was needed to manage logistics, supply, and personnel matters that fell outside the immediate scope of battlefield command. In late 1777, Congress reorganized the Board of War as a body separate from itself, appointing Major General Horatio Gates as its president. Gates was a logical but politically charged choice. He had recently achieved the most celebrated American victory of the war to that point, the defeat of British General John Burgoyne at the Battles of Saratoga in October 1777. His star was ascendant, and many in Congress saw him as a more capable administrator — and perhaps a more capable general — than George Washington, whose record of battlefield losses had eroded confidence among certain factions. Joining Gates on the reconstituted Board were figures such as Timothy Pickering and Richard Peters, men tasked with bringing order to the army's chaotic administrative machinery. Yet the reorganization created as many problems as it aimed to solve. The Board's authority overlapped significantly with that of Washington as Commander-in-Chief, generating confusion over who held ultimate responsibility for key decisions regarding troop movements, officer appointments, and supply distribution. Washington, already enduring the misery of Valley Forge, found himself navigating not only the hardships of winter but also the political currents flowing out of York. Gates's elevation to the Board presidency fueled widespread suspicion about what became known as the Conway Cabal, a shadowy and much-debated episode in which certain members of Congress and military officers, including Inspector General Thomas Conway and Gates himself, were believed to be conspiring to replace Washington with Gates as the leader of the Continental Army. Whether the Conway Cabal was a genuine conspiracy or merely a collection of loose grievances and political gossip remains a matter of historical debate, but the perception of intrigue deepened the mistrust between Washington's supporters and his congressional critics. In practice, the reorganized Board of War proved largely ineffective. It lacked the resources, infrastructure, and political unity needed to solve the army's supply crisis, and its attempts to exert authority independent of Washington often met with resistance. Over time, Washington's leadership endured, his position strengthened by the loyalty of his officers, the eventual improvement of conditions at Valley Forge under the training regimen of Baron von Steuben, and the crucial alliance with France that followed the victory at Saratoga. The episode remains significant not for what the Board of War accomplished but for what it revealed about the revolutionary generation's most fundamental challenge: how to wage a war through a decentralized government of sovereign states with competing interests, limited funds, and no established executive authority. The tension between civilian oversight and military independence, between congressional committees and commanders in the field, was not merely a bureaucratic inconvenience — it was a constitutional question that would shape the eventual design of the American republic itself. The struggles at York foreshadowed the debates that would culminate, a decade later, in the creation of a stronger federal government under the Constitution, complete with a single executive empowered to serve as Commander-in-Chief. In this way, the failures of 1777 quietly laid the groundwork for the nation that would emerge from the Revolution's long shadow.

Articles of Confederation Adopted

# The Adoption of the Articles of Confederation In the autumn of 1777, the American Revolution hung in a precarious balance. The Continental Congress, driven from Philadelphia by the advancing British army under General William Howe, had relocated to the small Pennsylvania town of York, where delegates crowded into the modest York County Courthouse to conduct the urgent business of a nation at war. It was here, on November 15, 1777, that Congress formally adopted the Articles of Confederation, producing the first written framework of government for the fledgling United States of America. The moment was neither glamorous nor celebratory — it came amid exhaustion, uncertainty, and bitter compromise — but it represented one of the most consequential political achievements of the Revolutionary era. The road to the Articles had been long and contentious. As early as June 1776, even before the Declaration of Independence was signed, a committee chaired by John Dickinson of Pennsylvania had been tasked with drafting a plan of union. Dickinson, a moderate and cautious political thinker, produced a document that proposed a relatively strong central authority, but his draft met immediate resistance. Delegates from smaller states objected to proposed voting arrangements that would have given larger, more populous states greater influence in Congress. Southern states clashed with northern states over how enslaved people would be counted for the purposes of taxation. Perhaps most divisively, states without claims to vast western territories — notably Maryland — argued bitterly with states like Virginia and New York, which held enormous land claims stretching beyond the Appalachian Mountains. These disputes over representation, revenue, and land consumed more than a year of debate, revision, and negotiation as the war raged around the delegates. The document that Congress finally adopted reflected the deep suspicion of centralized power that the Revolution itself had been born from. The Articles created not a national government in the modern sense but a "firm league of friendship" among thirteen sovereign states. Congress was granted the authority to declare war, negotiate treaties with foreign nations, manage relations with Native American tribes, and resolve disputes between states. However, it was deliberately denied the powers that the colonists had most resented in the British Crown: Congress could not levy taxes, relying instead on voluntary contributions from the states, and it could not regulate interstate or foreign commerce. There was no executive branch to enforce laws, no national judiciary to interpret them, and amendments required the unanimous consent of all thirteen states. Each state, regardless of size or population, received a single vote in Congress. The timing of the adoption lent it a special gravity. Even as delegates debated governance in York, General George Washington's Continental Army was preparing to endure one of the most harrowing winters of the war at Valley Forge, just a hundred miles to the east. Soldiers suffered from inadequate clothing, scarce food, and rampant disease. The British occupied Philadelphia, the largest city in America and the symbolic seat of the Revolution. In this atmosphere of crisis, the fact that Congress managed to reach agreement at all was a testament to the delegates' commitment to the cause of self-governance, however imperfect the result. The Articles of Confederation would not take full legal effect for several more years. Ratification required the approval of all thirteen states, and Maryland refused to sign until states with western land claims agreed to cede those territories to the national government. It was not until March 1, 1781, that Maryland finally ratified, making the Articles the operative law of the land. They served their purpose during the remaining years of the war, providing a legal framework under which Congress could conduct diplomacy, secure the critical French alliance, and ultimately negotiate the Treaty of Paris in 1783. Yet the very weaknesses built into the Articles soon threatened to undo what the war had won. Congress's inability to raise revenue left it perpetually impoverished. Its lack of commercial authority allowed destructive trade rivalries among the states. Shays' Rebellion in 1786 exposed the government's powerlessness to respond to domestic unrest. These failures ultimately led to the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia in 1787, where the Articles were replaced by the United States Constitution. But the document adopted in that modest courthouse in York deserves its place in history — not as a failure, but as a necessary first experiment in American democracy, forged under extraordinary pressure and against remarkable odds.

Articles of Confederation Sent to States for Ratification

# Articles of Confederation Sent to States for Ratification On November 17, 1777, just two days after formally adopting the Articles of Confederation, the Continental Congress dispatched the document to the thirteen states for ratification. The setting for this momentous act was not the grand halls of Philadelphia but the modest courthouse in York, Pennsylvania, where Congress had relocated after British forces captured the colonial capital earlier that autumn. The delegates who gathered in York were operating under extraordinary pressure — a war was raging, the fate of the young republic remained deeply uncertain, and the loose collection of former colonies desperately needed a formal framework of governance to coordinate their struggle for independence. The idea of a unified governing document had been circulating since the earliest days of the Revolution. When the Continental Congress declared independence in July 1776, it simultaneously appointed a committee to draft a plan for a permanent union. John Dickinson of Pennsylvania, a cautious and measured statesman who had initially opposed independence but nonetheless committed himself to the patriot cause, chaired this committee and produced the first draft of the Articles. His proposal envisioned a somewhat stronger central authority than what ultimately emerged, but months of intense debate among delegates whittled down federal power considerably. Representatives from smaller states clashed with those from larger ones over questions of representation and voting. Delegates from states without western land claims bristled at the prospect that states like Virginia, with vast territorial holdings stretching toward the Mississippi, would grow disproportionately powerful. These disputes consumed more than a year of congressional deliberation before the delegates finally agreed on a version they could collectively endorse in November 1777. The document they produced reflected the revolutionaries' deep suspicion of centralized authority — a suspicion born directly from their experience under British rule. The Articles created a confederation of sovereign states joined by a single legislative body, the Congress, in which each state possessed one vote regardless of population or size. There was no independent executive to enforce laws and no national judiciary to interpret them. Congress could request money from the states but had no power to levy taxes. It could negotiate treaties and manage foreign affairs, but it lacked the authority to regulate commerce between the states. Amending the Articles required the unanimous consent of all thirteen states, a provision that made meaningful reform nearly impossible. Even after Congress sent the Articles to the states, ratification proved to be a prolonged and contentious process. Most states approved the document relatively quickly, recognizing the urgent need for a formal government during wartime. However, Maryland, led by figures such as Thomas Johnson and Daniel Carroll, refused to ratify until states with extensive western land claims agreed to cede those territories to the national government for the common benefit of all. Maryland's delegates argued that lands won through the collective sacrifice of the Revolution should not enrich individual states. Virginia, whose claims were the most expansive, eventually agreed in January 1781 to surrender its territory north of the Ohio River. Satisfied by this concession, Maryland finally ratified the Articles on March 1, 1781, and the document took effect that same day — more than three years after it had first been sent to the states. The Articles of Confederation served as the nation's governing framework through the final years of the Revolutionary War and the uncertain peace that followed. Under the Articles, Congress successfully negotiated the Treaty of Paris in 1783, formally ending the war and securing British recognition of American independence. Yet the structural weaknesses embedded in the document soon became painfully apparent. Congress could not pay its debts, could not suppress internal unrest such as Shays' Rebellion in Massachusetts in 1786, and could not compel states to cooperate on matters of trade or defense. These failures convinced leaders like James Madison and Alexander Hamilton that a fundamental rethinking of American governance was necessary, leading directly to the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia in 1787, where the Articles were replaced by the Constitution that endures today. The story of the Articles of Confederation thus represents both a bold experiment in self-governance and a critical lesson in the balance between liberty and effective national authority.

Conway Cabal Debates in Congress

# The Conway Cabal: Political Intrigue at York, 1777–1778 In the autumn of 1777, the American Revolution stood at a crossroads not only on the battlefield but within the halls of its own government. The Continental Congress, driven from Philadelphia by the advancing British army under General Sir William Howe, had relocated to the small Pennsylvania town of York. It was there, in conditions far removed from the grandeur of Independence Hall, that one of the war's most consequential political dramas unfolded. What became known as the Conway Cabal was never a formal conspiracy, but it represented a genuine and dangerous fracture within the revolutionary leadership — a moment when frustration, ambition, and legitimate concern over military strategy collided in ways that threatened to unseat George Washington as commander-in-chief of the Continental Army. The roots of the crisis lay in a season of contrasting fortunes. In the northern theater, General Horatio Gates had achieved a stunning triumph at the Battles of Saratoga in September and October of 1777, compelling the surrender of an entire British army under General John Burgoyne. It was the most significant American victory of the war to that point and would prove instrumental in securing the French alliance. Meanwhile, Washington's campaigns in the mid-Atlantic had produced a far grimmer record. His forces suffered defeat at the Battle of Brandywine on September 11, 1777, failing to prevent the British from advancing on Philadelphia. A bold but poorly coordinated counterattack at the Battle of Germantown on October 4 also ended in failure. With the nation's capital lost and Washington's army battered and demoralized, a number of congressional delegates began asking whether the Revolution's military leadership needed to change. At the center of the intrigue was General Thomas Conway, an Irish-born officer who had served in the French army before joining the American cause. Conway was openly critical of Washington's generalship and wrote a letter to Gates praising him and disparaging Washington's abilities. When the contents of this letter were revealed to Washington — reportedly through the efforts of Washington's ally Lord Stirling, who learned of it from one of Gates's own aides, Colonel James Wilkinson — the political maneuvering was dragged into the open. Washington confronted Conway directly, and the exposure of the letter's existence forced the various players to take sides. Within Congress, delegates such as Richard Henry Lee of Virginia and Samuel Adams of Massachusetts harbored doubts about Washington's leadership, though their motivations were complex and not purely hostile. Some were genuinely concerned about republican principles of civilian control over the military and worried about Washington accumulating too much power. Others were simply frustrated by the lack of battlefield results. The newly reorganized Board of War, which Congress established to provide greater oversight of the military effort, named Gates as its president and appointed Conway as inspector general of the army — moves widely interpreted as an attempt to diminish Washington's authority. Yet the cabal, such as it was, never coalesced into a unified movement capable of removing Washington from command. Several factors worked against it. Washington's allies in Congress, including figures such as Henry Laurens of South Carolina, who served as president of Congress during this period, worked vigorously behind the scenes to defend the commander-in-chief. Officers loyal to Washington, including Nathanael Greene and the Marquis de Lafayette, made their support unmistakably clear, with Lafayette reportedly refusing a command associated with the Board of War's plans. Gates himself proved politically clumsy and failed to translate his Saratoga fame into sustained influence. Conway, increasingly isolated, eventually resigned his commission and fought a duel with General John Cadwalader, a Washington supporter, in which he was seriously wounded. The collapse of the cabal ultimately reinforced Washington's position. By surviving the political challenge, he emerged with greater authority and a deeper bond of loyalty with his officer corps. The episode also illuminated the profound tensions inherent in the revolutionary experiment — tensions between civilian oversight and military autonomy, between regional jealousies and national unity, and between the desire for immediate results and the patience required for a protracted war. As Washington led his army into the grueling winter at Valley Forge, the lessons of the Conway Cabal lingered as a reminder that the fight for American independence would be won or lost not only on the battlefield but in the fragile political institutions struggling to govern a nation in the making.

Congress Ratifies the French Alliance

# Congress Ratifies the French Alliance In the spring of 1778, while the Continental Congress conducted the business of a fledgling nation from the small Pennsylvania town of York, its delegates took what would become one of the most consequential votes of the entire American Revolution. On May 4, 1778, Congress formally ratified the Treaty of Alliance with France, cementing a military partnership that would fundamentally alter the trajectory of the war for independence. The treaty, which had been signed in Paris on February 6 of that year, was largely the product of the extraordinary diplomatic efforts of Benjamin Franklin, who had been serving as the American commissioner to France since late 1776. Franklin, already celebrated across Europe as a scientist and philosopher, had spent more than a year cultivating relationships within the French court, working to persuade King Louis XVI and his ministers that an alliance with the struggling American states served France's strategic interests. His charm, intellect, and carefully crafted image as a rustic American sage made him enormously popular in Parisian society, and that popularity proved instrumental in bringing negotiations to a successful conclusion. The road to the French alliance had been long and uncertain. France had been quietly providing covert aid to the American cause since nearly the beginning of the conflict, funneling money, weapons, and supplies through intermediaries, but the French government had been reluctant to enter into an open alliance with a revolution that might very well fail. The American defeat at Brandywine and the subsequent loss of Philadelphia in the fall of 1777 — the very events that had forced Congress to relocate to York in the first place — had done little to inspire confidence. However, the stunning American victory at Saratoga in October 1777, where British General John Burgoyne surrendered his entire army, changed the diplomatic calculus dramatically. News of Saratoga reached Paris in early December and demonstrated to the French that the Americans were capable of winning major engagements against British forces. Fearful that Britain might seek a reconciliation with its colonies before France could capitalize on the situation, French Foreign Minister Vergennes moved swiftly to formalize the alliance. The treaty that Congress ratified in York contained provisions of enormous significance. France committed itself to fighting alongside the United States until American independence was fully achieved, and neither party was permitted to make a separate peace with Britain without the consent of the other. This was far more than a symbolic gesture of goodwill. It was a binding military commitment from one of the most powerful nations on earth, and it promised to bring resources to the American cause that the Continental Congress, perpetually short of funds and struggling to supply its own army, could never have mustered on its own. French military support would eventually include substantial financial loans and gifts, a powerful navy capable of challenging British control of the seas, and a professional army commanded by the Comte de Rochambeau that would fight alongside George Washington's forces in the war's decisive campaigns. The broader implications of the alliance extended well beyond the battlefield. By entering into a formal treaty with the United States, France effectively recognized American independence on the world stage, granting the young nation a degree of international legitimacy it had previously lacked. This recognition encouraged other European powers, including Spain and the Netherlands, to provide their own forms of support, further stretching British military resources and transforming what had been a colonial rebellion into a global conflict. The full weight of French involvement would not be felt immediately, but its eventual impact proved decisive. The alliance culminated most dramatically at Yorktown in 1781, where French naval forces under Admiral de Grasse blocked British reinforcements while Washington and Rochambeau's combined armies besieged General Cornwallis into surrender. That victory, made possible by the partnership ratified in a small courthouse in York three years earlier, effectively ended the fighting and secured American independence. The ratification of the French alliance thus stands as one of the pivotal moments of the Revolution, a decision that transformed an uncertain struggle into a winnable war.

York Celebrates News of the French Alliance

# York Celebrates News of the French Alliance In the spring of 1778, the American Revolution stood at a precarious crossroads. The Continental Army had endured a brutal winter at Valley Forge, where thousands of soldiers suffered from inadequate food, clothing, and shelter. Desertion thinned the ranks, and morale hung by a thread. The British occupied Philadelphia, the young nation's largest city and former seat of government, forcing the Continental Congress to relocate to the small town of York, Pennsylvania, where delegates carried on the business of revolution in modest quarters. Against this bleak backdrop, news arrived that would fundamentally alter the trajectory of the war and lift the spirits of an exhausted nation. On May 4, 1778, the Continental Congress, meeting in York's courthouse, formally ratified two treaties with France: the Treaty of Alliance and the Treaty of Amity and Commerce. These agreements had been negotiated in Paris largely through the tireless diplomatic efforts of Benjamin Franklin, whose charm, intellect, and celebrity status in French society had made him indispensable to the American cause. Alongside Franklin, fellow commissioners Silas Deane and Arthur Lee had worked to persuade the court of King Louis XVI that supporting American independence served France's strategic interests. The French foreign minister, Charles Gravier, the Comte de Vergennes, had long sought an opportunity to weaken Britain, France's longstanding rival, and the stunning American victory at the Battle of Saratoga in October 1777 finally convinced the French government that the American cause was viable enough to warrant a formal alliance. General Horatio Gates's defeat of British General John Burgoyne at Saratoga demonstrated that the Continental Army could win major engagements, providing the diplomatic leverage Franklin and his colleagues needed to seal the agreement. The ratification in York was a moment of immense significance. Congress ordered a day of public celebration, complete with cannon salutes, thanksgiving services, and expressions of joy throughout the town. Delegates understood that the alliance meant far more than symbolic solidarity. France would commit professional armies, a powerful navy capable of challenging British control of the seas, and financial subsidies that the struggling American economy desperately needed. For the first time, Britain would face not merely a colonial rebellion but a global conflict, forced to defend its interests in the Caribbean, Europe, and beyond. The strategic calculus of the war shifted dramatically in America's favor. The timing of the ratification proved remarkably fortunate. At Valley Forge, Baron Friedrich von Steuben, a Prussian military officer who had volunteered his services, was transforming Washington's ragged troops into a disciplined fighting force through rigorous drilling and standardized training. When news of the French alliance reached the encampment, General George Washington ordered his own celebrations, including a military review, musket salutes, and shouts of "Long live the King of France." The combination of renewed military professionalism and the promise of French support infused the army with fresh confidence as it prepared to take the field again. The consequences of the alliance unfolded over the following years with decisive impact. French troops under the Comte de Rochambeau would eventually fight alongside American forces, and the French navy under Admiral de Grasse would play a critical role at the Battle of the Chesapeake in 1781, cutting off British General Cornwallis's escape route and setting the stage for the decisive American victory at Yorktown. French financial support, meanwhile, helped sustain an American war effort that might otherwise have collapsed under the weight of inflation and debt. The celebration in York on that May day in 1778 marked the moment when the American Revolution ceased to be a lonely struggle and became an international conflict. What had begun as a desperate colonial uprising now enjoyed the backing of one of Europe's great powers, and the path to independence, though still long and uncertain, became measurably clearer. The small Pennsylvania town where Congress had taken refuge thus witnessed one of the war's most consequential turning points, a moment when hope replaced despair and the promise of alliance transformed the future of a nation still in the act of being born.

Philip Livingston Dies in York

Philip Livingston, a signer of the Declaration of Independence and New York delegate, died in York just weeks before Congress returned to Philadelphia. He had continued serving in Congress through declining health, and his death underscored the personal cost of public service during the Revolution. Livingston had been a wealthy New York merchant who sacrificed his fortune for the patriot cause. His properties were confiscated or destroyed during the British occupation of New York. He died in a rented room in a small Pennsylvania town, far from home, having spent the last years of his life in service to a nation that was still fighting for its existence.

Congress Returns to Philadelphia

Congress departed York and returned to Philadelphia after the British evacuation of the city. The nine-month sojourn in York was over. Delegates were relieved to leave the small town for the larger city, though Philadelphia itself required cleaning and repair after the British occupation. The York period had been productive despite its difficulties. Congress had adopted the Articles of Confederation, ratified the French alliance, reorganized the Board of War, and maintained the functions of government — all while meeting in a courthouse in a town most delegates had never heard of before the crisis. York's brief period as the American capital was over, but its contribution to the nation's founding was permanent.