sive historians are interested in geography, especially insofar as geographical factors are determinants in history. This interest varies, of course, from writer to writer, but Turner and Jameson are the best examples of those who ascribe to water-and-dirt determinism. Moreover, progressive historians, presuming that one defines the term as a historian who belongs to a school of thought, are interested more in the common man than in the great leaders; they are more likely to examine the writings of J. P. Martin than of George Washington. They are in fact the predecessors of today’s social historians. This focus is consistent with a great-forces-over-great-men deterministic view, inasmuch as “the will of the people” becomes a great force akin to rivers and towns. But the last common factor is perhaps the most important: progressive historians are generally in agreement that the war was a true revolution, and their meaning of the word transcends the mere throwing-off of “British tyranny” that so enthralled writers like George Bancroft and Mercy Otis Warren. This last factor brings the second part of the conclusions, which is more important than the first part. The argument that the war was a revolution is essentially universal among the progressives; that is, it is universal among those who took “progressive” world-views as they wrote. But the flip side of revolution is consensus. Turner, Becker, Jameson, et al. argue that the war was fought for, or at least caused, greater democracy in the colonies. This may be true; that is, wars tend to cause the end of Old Orders and ancient regimes, but that is hardly a singular thing to say about the American Revolution. All of our wars have caused some sort or other of significant social change and reform. The argument that is to be brought forward is this: in being “revolutionary,” the colonists demonstrated a sort of consensus thinking. If the...
