Don't Know Much About History, Anniversary Edition: Everything You Need to Know About American History but Never Learned (Don't Know Much About®) (18 page)

With the assistance of Ben Franklin, Thomas Paine came to America from London and found work with a Philadelphia bookseller. In the colonies for only a few months, Paine wrote, at Franklin’s suggestion, a brief history of the upheaval against England. It is almost impossible to exaggerate the impact and importance of
Common Sense
. Paine’s polemic was read by everyone in Congress, including General Washington, who commented on its effects on his men. Equally important, it was read by people everywhere. The pamphlet quickly sold 150,000 copies, going through numerous printings until it had reached half a million. (Approximating the American population at the time, including slaves, at 3 million, a current equivalent pamphlet would have to sell more than 35 million copies!) For the first time, mass public opinion had swung toward the cause of independence.

A
MERICAN
V
OICES

From a letter written by A
BIGAIL
A
DAMS
to her husband, John, who was attending the Continental Congress, March 31, 1776:

In the new Code of Laws which I suppose it will be necessary for you to make I desire you would Remember the Ladies, and be more generous and favourable to them than your ancestors. Do not put such unlimited powers into the hands of the Husbands. Remember all men would be tyrants if they could. If particular care and attention is not paid to the Ladies, we are determined to foment a Rebellion, and will not hold ourselves bound by any laws in which we have no voice, or Representation.

Upon receipt of this directive from home, a bemused John Adams replied, in part, “Depend upon it. We know better than to repeal our Masculine systems.”

What exactly does the Declaration of Independence say? What did Congress leave out?

On June 7, 1776, Richard Henry Lee, a delegate from Virginia and a member of one of that colony’s leading families, rose in Philadelphia to propose a three-part resolution: (1) to declare the colonies independent; (2) to form foreign alliances; (3) to prepare a plan of confederation. After days of debate, Congress compromised. In that time-honored congressional tradition of putting off important decisions, this Congress decided to form committees, one for each of these points.

The committee selected to draw up some document declaring that America was free of England naturally included John Adams and Ben Franklin, already an internationally known writer. Robert Livingston, a conservative from New York, was named along with Roger Sherman of Connecticut. A southerner was needed for political balance, and John Adams lobbied hard for the fifth member. His choice, Virginian Thomas Jefferson, was seen as a compromise. Jefferson had a reputation as a writer, and had already contributed one pamphlet to Congress,
A Summary View of the Rights of British America
. Although a bitter political rival in later years, Adams now deferred to Jefferson because, as he admitted, Jefferson could write ten times better than he.

Distracted by his wife’s health and a preference to work on the new constitution of Virginia that was being written while he was in Philadelphia, Jefferson was a reluctant author. But closeting himself away, he set to work quickly, writing on a portable desk he had designed. He presented his draft to the committee, which recommended changes and forwarded it to Congress for debate.

Of course the delegates demanded changes, all of which Jefferson considered deplorable. The most debated was Jefferson’s charge that the king was responsible for the slave trade. The southern delegates, joined by northerners who were known to have profited from, in Jefferson’s own phrase, “this execrable commerce,” deleted this section.

With the advantage of hindsight, cynicism about this Congress and Thomas Jefferson in particular is easy. But the baffling question remains: How could a man who embodied the Enlightenment—who wrote so eloquently that “all Men are created equal” and are endowed by the Creator with the right of liberty—how could such a man keep black slaves, of which Jefferson (like Washington and many others in Congress) possessed many? There is no truly satisfying answer. Earlier in his life, as a lawyer and member of the Burgesses, he had unsuccessfully argued against aspects of slavery. At worst, Jefferson may not have thought of slaves as men, not an unusual notion in his time. And he was a man of his times. Like other men, great and small, he was not perfect.

On July 2, Lee’s resolution of independence was passed by Congress. On the evening of July 4, the Declaration of Independence, which explained the act of independence, was adopted. At the signing, John Hancock reportedly urged unanimity. “There must be no pulling different ways. We must hang together,” he said.

“Yes,” said the inimitable Ben Franklin. “We must indeed all hang together, or most assuredly we shall all hang separately.” (Whether the story is true, most biographers agree that it certainly suits Franklin wit and wisdom.)

Although Jefferson suffered doubts because of the changes forced upon him, many of which many historians agree were for the better, the finished document was cheered throughout the colonies. Jefferson had voiced all the pent-up anguish that the American rebels had been feeling for years.

Must Read:
American Scripture: Making the Declaration of Independence
by Pauline Maier.

Why is there a statue of Benedict Arnold’s boot?

Once trusted and admired, Benedict Arnold (1741–1801) became the most famous traitor in United States history, his name synonymous with treachery. Yet in Saratoga, New York, one of the most unusual memorials in America is a statue of a boot that stands in his honor.

Born in Norwich, Connecticut, Arnold learned the apothecary trade and, in 1762, established a book and drug store in New Haven, while also carrying on trade with the West Indies. By 1774, he was one of the wealthiest men in New Haven and became a captain in the Connecticut militia. Soon after the war began, he was commissioned as a colonel in the patriot forces. Along with Vermont’s Ethan Allen, Arnold led the capture of Fort Ticonderoga, in New York, on May 10, 1775, one of the most significant early victories for the American rebel army.

Later that year, Arnold led 1,100 soldiers, including three companies of Colonel Daniel Morgan’s well-trained western riflemen, into Canada. It was a disastrously unsuccessful assault on Quebec in an attempt to get Canadians to join the other colonies in the struggle for liberty. Severely wounded in the assault, Arnold gained a growing reputation for courage and audaciousness and won promotion to brigadier general, despite criticism that he was recklessly bold.

But then he began to suffer a series of bitter disappointments. Passed over for promotion in February 1777, when Congress appointed five new major generals, Arnold, who had more seniority than any of the men promoted, nearly left the army. He was convinced to remain by General Washington, and in May 1777 Congress promoted Arnold to major general as a reward for his bravery in helping drive a British raiding party out of Connecticut. But it did not restore his seniority and Arnold seethed, again coaxed by Washington to stay in the army.

Later that year, Arnold served under General Horatio Gates against the British general John Burgoyne. During two days of crucial fighting near Saratoga in upstate New York in October 1777, Arnold showed gallant courage against Burgoyne and suffered a serious wound to the same leg that he had wounded in the fighting at Quebec. These engagements, won by the patriots, led to Burgoyne’s surrender at Saratoga several days later. General Gates received credit for the victory, but Congress voted Arnold the country’s thanks and instructed Washington to restore Arnold’s rank. The Saratoga statue of Arnold’s boot, among the most curious of America’s historical statues, honors Arnold’s heroic role in a battle that surely changed the course of the war and perhaps all of American history. Had Arnold died from his wounds that day, he would have probably gone down as one of the Revolution’s most significant martyrs. Another tall obelisk monument at the Saratoga National Historic Park honors General Philip Schuyler, General Horatio Gates, and Colonel Daniel Morgan. A niche for Arnold stands empty–stark testimony to what most people think of when they hear Arnold’s name: the greatest traitor in American history.

In 1778, Arnold took command of the Philadelphia area and married Margaret (Peggy) Shippen, a young woman from a prominent family. They lived extravagantly and began to incur debts. Arnold also argued with local authorities. When the executive council of Pennsylvania accused Arnold of using soldiers to do personal favors, a court-martial cleared Arnold, but it ordered General Washington to rebuke him, which Washington did reluctantly. To Arnold, his service had been met with ingratitude and injustice, and he began corresponding with the British commander Sir Henry Clinton, an acquaintance of Arnold’s father-in-law, a wealthy Pennsylvania judge with Tory (pro-British) leanings.

Given command of West Point, then a crucial strongpoint overlooking and controlling the Hudson River (and the future home of the United States Military Academy), Arnold worked out a plan to surrender that important military base to the British commander. But Clinton’s director of intelligence, Major John André, was captured in 1780 by American militiamen, and papers pertaining to the plot were found in his boot. Arnold escaped to New York City, while André was to be hanged as a spy. André appealed to Washington, asking to be shot instead of hanged but Washington declined. “All that I request of you gentlemen,” André is said to have told his captors, “is that you will bear witness to the world that I die like a brave man.”

Although Washington made several plans to kidnap Arnold after he deserted, they all failed, and Arnold became a brigadier general in the British army. He demanded 20,000 pounds from the British for the losses he incurred in joining them, but he received only 6,315 pounds. As a British officer, he led expeditions that burned Richmond, Virginia, and New London, Connecticut. He also advised Henry Clinton, the overall British commander in America, to support the British army at Yorktown. Clinton ignored that advice with disastrous results for the British.

Arnold was received warmly by King George III when he went to England in 1782, but others there scorned him. In 1797, the British government granted him 13,400 acres (5,423 hectares) in Canada, but the land was of little use to him. He spent most of his remaining years as a merchant in the West Indies trade. In his last days, Arnold was burdened with debt, became discouraged, and was generally distrusted before his death in London in 1801.

Must Read:
Saratoga: Turning Point of America’s Revolutionary War
by Richard M. Ketchum.

What were the Articles of Confederation?

Congress had invented a wonderful new machine, with a flag and an army, but they didn’t quite know how to work it. Ben Franklin, who knew a thing or two about inventing, had been tinkering with the idea of a colonial confederation as far back as 1754, but his attempts to create one had been in vain. Local colonial power brokers wanted to see that power stayed that way—local and in their hands, not in the hands of the rabble. But now, with independence declared, British warships floating off the coast, and the threat of the hangman’s noose if they failed, a little machinery of government seemed a sensible idea.

In August, the Congress began to debate what would become the Articles of Confederation, the first loosely organized federal government. Disagreement hinged on questions of representation and voting: Should votes be apportioned on population, or should each state receive a single vote in Congress? Obviously, big states wanted population to determine votes; small states wanted one vote per state. The war diverted their attention to other matters—such as saving their own necks. It was 1777 before the Articles were submitted to the states for ratification, and 1781 before they were ratified. As foundations for national governments go, this was a rather shaky one. Under the Articles, the presidency was a powerless office, and Congress lacked the power to tax. Owing to uncertainties about what kind of power the government should have, the Articles provided almost none. But Congress was able to sputter through the war until it could build itself a better mousetrap.

Betsy Ross: Did she or didn’t she?

On January 1, 1776, George Washington raised a new flag over his rebel lines in Boston. But it wasn’t the stars and stripes. The first American flag was a banner with thirteen alternating red and white stripes with the crosses of St. George and St. Andrew set into the upper left corner. These were symbols of the British throne and captured the hope that there might still be a political resolution that would maintain some connection between Americans and the throne of England. Many Americans of that time—John Adams thought as many as a third—were still loyalists. Many others still considered themselves Englishmen, and this flag—the flag of the Grand Union—symbolized that connection.

By June 1777, it was clear that such a reconciliation was not possible and Congress resolved that the flag of the U.S. should be “13 stripes alternate red and white and the union be 13 stars in a blue field, representing a new constellation.”

The record doesn’t show who made the decisions or was responsible for the design.

It is definite that it was
not
Betsy Ross.

Elizabeth Griscom Ross was a Philadelphia seamstress, married to John Ross, an upholsterer who was killed in an explosion in 1776. She kept the upholstery shop going and lived on Arch Street, not too far from the State House on Chestnut, where the Continental Congress was in sessions. According to popular legend, George Washington was a frequent visitor to the Ross home before receiving command of the army, and Betsy Ross embroidered his shirt ruffles. Later, as the general of the Continental Army, George Washington supposedly appeared on Mrs. Ross’s doorstep with two representatives of Congress. They asked that she make a flag according to a rough drawing they carried with them. Mrs. Ross suggested that Washington redraw the flag design to employ stars of five points instead of six. (This account of the creation of the stars and stripes was first brought to light in 1870 by one of her grandsons, William J. Canby. After Canby’s death, a book called
The Evolution of the American Flag
, published in 1909, presented the claims for Betsy Ross made by William Canby in 1870.)