Tag Archives: 1776

History Rhymes

Maybe you’ve noticed, or perhaps you haven’t, that I am behind in my blogging. I could blame it on Post-Covid Syndrome, which is still wreaking havoc with me. However, the truth is, it’s difficult to write in an environment that is just so nasty.

I don’t know about you, but when I’m seeking wisdom, one source to which I turn includes American Musicals. Even though Tom Lehrer has called them a dead art form that is suitable for academic treatment, I find that they often provide hope.

West Side Story, for example, provides drama, humor, romance, and the inevitable tragic end—after all, it’s a 20th century take on Romeo and Juliet. In the original version, the two gangs, the Sharks and the Jets are squaring off for a fight, but instead of beating the snot out of one another, they break into song and dance, and all to Leonard Bernstein’s music.

But today, I turn to 1776, the musical based on the Second Continental Congress in Philadelphia. The first musical number introduces John Adams by the rest of the delegates singing, “Sit down, John! [For God’s sake John, sit down!].

John leaves, and sings a plea to the Almighty. The words may be as applicable today as they would have been during the Revolution.

I do believe you’ve laid a curse on
North America
A curse that we here now rehearse in
Philadelphia

A second flood, a simple famine
Plagues of locusts everywhere
Or a cataclysmic earthquake
I’d accept with some despair

But no, you sent us Congress
Good God, sir, was that fair?

The Decision and the Declaration

Today, on July 4th, we celebrate the Independence Day, when the Declaration of Independence was approved by the Continental Congress in 1776.

However, history is more interesting than just the event and the date.

On June 7, 1776, the senior Virginia member of Congress, Richard Henry Lee introduced a resolution stating:

Resolved, That these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent States, that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved.”

Congress adopted the Virginia motion on July 2, 1776, thereby refuting our status as a colony; this is why John Adams believed that we would celebrate our independence on July second, the date of the decision.

The Declaration of Independence was approved two days later, on July 4, 1776.

While the Declaration of Independence is a masterpiece, and I recommend that everyone read it today, it was not the decision, but merely the explanation to the world as to why the decision had been made. Although we have seen many portrayals of all the Founding Fathers assembled together in Independence Hall to sign the document on the fourth of July, most, but not all, signed on August second; one signer, who was not a member of the congress until later in the year, signed in November.

As is often the case, history is more complex, and far more interesting than the snapshot presented in civics class.

* Thanks, once again to Wikipedia. If you use it, kick in a donation—even a dollar helps.

 

July 4

When I was young, many of my peers’ grandfathers were veterans of World War I; most of the dads were veterans of World War II, and older brothers were serving in Japan, Korea and Germany. There were even a few individual who claimed to be Civil War veterans—supposedly drummer boys and buglers who had served quite young. Most of those were proven untrue, although there were widows of Civil War veterans; some veterans in their alter years married teenage brides. See Wikipedia’s story at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maudie_Hopkins. Now, all of the veterans of the wars before before World War II are gone, and those veterans, “the greatest generation” are fast disappearing.

July marks Independence Day, of course, but also the Battle of Gettysburg. I’ve already discussed how that one battle was pivotal in changing so many things and ultimately resulted in the United States becoming a world power—and I’m sure I shall again.

As a child I wanted to see the Gettysburg battlefield (I have, many times, but never enough). I wanted to see Halley’s Comet (a major disappointment; instead of the terrifying manifestation of the past, it was a fuzzy little dot you had to drive out to the country to see). And, after reading about the centennial celebrations of Independence Day, I wanted to experience the bicentennial.

John Adams and Thomas Jefferson died on the same day—the fiftieth anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, making it halfway to the centennial. Between the 150th anniversary and the 200th, the country was torn apart and patched back together.

The bicentennial for me was a combination of the enthusiasm and idealism of young adulthood, disappointment in the government for Vietnam and Watergate, yet I still had great hope for the future of the nation. I had no idea that such a future would include me.

I spent July 4, 1976 with my family at my sister’s place, which included a fair amount of land. We shot off enough fireworks to approximate the Confederate attack and Colonel Joshua Chamberlain’s defense of the Union’s west flank at Gettysburg. The smoke took hours to clear and the only casualty was one lawn chair that had suffered from the backflash of a series of roman candles.

I had my bicentennial.

Today I find it incredibly hard to believe that it was forty years ago. That since then I took an oath and served in two wars; that I served like my father and his father before him. That I have a son now serving.

My children and my grandchildren may get to see the tri-centennial. I hope it’s a wondrous celebration.