Category: Second Continental Congress

  • New Kids In Town–April 24, 1776

    Cover art for April 24, 1776: Portrait of Edward Rutledge. Engraved by James Barton Longacre in 1822, based on a painting by Ralph Earl. via New York Public Library's Digital Library.

    It may seem as though a large number of men were suddenly being appointed as South Carolina delegates to the Continental Congress, but in fact they weren’t all new appointees. Some of them had already been delegates and were re-appointed.

    It’s also worth noting that while many of them were supporters of Colonial rights, they were also under instruction to oppose motions for independence. Specifically, when Richard Henry Lee’s motion comes down on June 7, Edward Rutledge specifically was told to oppose it. According to lore, his superiors in South Carolina’s government weren’t sure that the time was “ripe” for independence.

    Arthur Middleton was not only a supporter of Colonial rights, he was said to think ruthlessly when it came to Loyalists.

    Thomas Heyward didn’t distinguish himself very much in the Congress but in 1780 he was captured by the British and held for a year. The loss of the year and his “property” (i.e., slaves) made him a martyr for the Revolution.

    Thomas Lynch was instrumental in helping George Washington organize his army in the early days, but illness kept him from signing the Declaration of Independence.

  • Once More To Canada–April 20, 1776

    Cover art for April 20, 1776: Map of Montreal and the immediate area, 1761.

    If nothing else, the tenacity of the Continental Congress has to be admired, because sending a delegation to Canada, especially after the recent New Year’s Eve disaster in Quebec, and then the “who knows how well it went” trip in March, was a sign of either eternal optimism or an inability to get the hint.

    It was probably a little of Column A and a little of Column B.

    At any rate, Ben Franklin, Samuel Chase and Charles Carroll headed up to Montrèal to see if relations with Canada could be smoothed over a little bit. And perhaps they could, but the Canadians still weren’t interested in the events going on to their south.

  • Notes From All Over–April 11, 1776

    Cover art for April 11, 1776: Detail of the April 11 letter from Abigail Adams to John Adams. via Massachusetts Historical Society.

    While there were a lot of smaller things going on on this day in 1776, there are typically multiple things going on for any given day. We often have to make choices regarding what we’re going to concentrate on, and don’t think we don’t feel a twinge of regret when we spot something else that happened on thus-and-such a date and had a moment of “Man, I wish we’d done that one.”

    So today we were fortunate in that there were several smaller items going on, but we didn’t have to use up a lot of audio real estate to cover all of them. It’s nice to have the luxury of telling all the stories you’ve got for a day.

    Incidentally: Mike and I are in Boston this week, absorbing history, interviewing people and shooting video for you to enjoy in a few weeks when we’ve finished editing it. It’s an extra dimension to the show that we hope you’ll enjoy.

  • Letter to Virginia–April 9, 1776

    Cover art for April 9, 1776: Portrait of Francis Lightfoot Lee by Willie Arthur Pepoon, date unknown. This is generally considered to be a definitive image of Lee, even though he died long before Pepoon was born.

    We need your love! Don’t forget to share this show with your friends. Likewise, share it with your enemies; maybe they’ll become your friends as a result.

    The Lees were a very prominent family in Virginia, connected to most major events in that era of American History. So it makes sense that Francis Lightfoot Lee sees American Independence on the horizon, and that it was Richard Henry Lee who first put the question (or, as the Founding Fathers wrote it, “The Question”) before Congress.

    Incidentally, it’s worth noting that Francis and Richard were the only brothers to sign the Declaration of Indepenence.

  • Mr. Washington Goes to Providence–April 5, 1776

    Cover art for April 5, 1776: Detail of Theodore Foster's diary relating the arrival of George Washington. via Rhode Island Historical Society

    The war was less than a year old, but heroes were already beginning to emerge, as we learn from contemporary writings. The arrival of George Washington in Providence, RI, was considered a big event each time he came through.

    In fact, it was such a big deal that the website for Stephen Hopkins’ house in Providence notes that “George Washington was
    a guest here. Twice.”

    I suppose they could have hung up two “George Washington Slept Here” signs but nobody would get it. Then again, “George Washington Slept Here” isn’t quite the trope it used to be. Leave me alone, I’m old. And get off my lawn.

    Hopkins, for what it’s worth, was an important person in his own right, having been central to the development of the colony and then the early days of the state. If you visit the house, though, be forewarned that it’s not in the same place it was when Hopkins lived there; it’s been moved twice since he was there. Although, to be fair, it’s always been on that street.

  • Thanks, George–April 2, 1776

    Cover art for April 2, 1776: The original strike of Washington Before Boston Gold Medal. via Boston Public Library.

    Just a few days ago, Congress passed a resolution that George Washington should be thanked for his efforts in Boston, and that a Congressional Medal should be issued to him.

    Specifically, the resolution read:

    Resolved, That the thanks of this Congress, in their own name, and in the name of the thirteen United Colonies, whom they represent, be presented to His Excellency General Washington, and the officers and soldiers under his command, for their wise and spirited conduct in the siege and acquisition of Boston; and that a medal of gold be struck in commemoration of this great event, and presented to His Excellency; and that a committee of three be appointed to prepare a letter of thanks and a proper device for the medal.

    They did do all this, but frankly striking a congressional medal (or any other type, presumably) during the Revolutionary War was kind of a low priority (in addition to the other issues Mike cites), but it did eventually get done.

    An unknown Greek poet, possibly from the 1st century CE, once said:

    Ὀψὲ θεῶν ἀλέουσι μύλοι, ἀλέουσι δὲ λεπτά.
    The millstones of the gods grind late [slowly], but they grind fine.

    Clearly this guy knew how governments operate.

  • A Death In Rhode Island–March 26, 1776

    Cover art for March 26, 1776: Portrait of Samuel Ward, probably by David McNeely Stauffer. (image cropped) via New York Public Library Digital Archives.

    Samuel Ward Sr. was a farmer and a politician, the governor of the Colony of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations, and a Justice of that colony’s Supreme Court.

    As a younger man, Ward believed in governments issuing hard money rather than paper, often battling with Stephen Hopkins over this issue. Because of this specific topic, the two men became bitter rivals and for several terms they alternated being governor of Rhode Island.

    His final term as governor ended in 1767, at which he left politics to work on his farm. But in 1774 he was called back into service as a delegate to the Continental Congress. Fortunately, he and Hopkins had buried the hatchet and the two were more friendly with one another. I say “fortunately” because Stephen Hopkins was also called to join the Congress.

    Ward died in Philadelphia and was buried there, but over 80 years later he was moved to the Common Burying Ground in Newport, RI and reinterred there.

  • Here Come The Privateers–March 23, 1776

    Cover art for March 23, 1776: "A View of His Majesty's Brigg Observer Engaging the American Privateer Ship Jack, by British artist Robert Dodd. Hand-colored aquatint, 1784. The battle itself took place two years earlier.

    When you first hear the word “Privateers” and its definition, your mind probably goes to your basic concept of a pirate: someone who attacks a ship and plunders its hold for anything valuable. And you wouldn’t be entirely wrong, but there’s still a difference.

    A privateer is essentially a pirate who’s working on the right side of the law. Privateers are given commissions through a document called a Letter of Marque, which authorizes a vessel to engage with any ship they consider unfriendly. This wasn’t unique to America; privateering was done all over the world. But in our case, it was a response to the fact that America was sorely out-gunned by the British and needed whatever help they could get. And early privateers had a high success rate, until the British realized that privateers were in use at all.

    One of our most famous privateers is John Paul Jones, who volunteered his services and, rather than using his ship to raid British vessels near America, did most of his work near the English coast. He would raid towns, attack vessels and send the Congress their share of the spoils.

    So the bottom line when it comes to the difference: permission. Privateers and pirates did much the same thing, except privateers had consent.

  • Georgia Gets In The Game–March 15, 1776

    Cover art for March 15, 1776: Archibald Bulloch circa 1775. Detail from painting by Henry Benbridge. via Wikimedia Commons.

    Georgia delegates to the Second Continental Congress numbered exactly one until around this time. That would be Dr. Lyman Hall, who didn’t believe it was ethical for him to represent the entire colony when he knew that feelings were largely divided back home.

    Then came the Battle of the Rice Boats, on March 2 and 3. After that, it seems, things moved very quickly for Georgians: the Royal Governor, who’d been in and out of custody, fled to a nearby warship, the Provincial Congress was left in charge, and they immediately began making plans to raise a more formal army than the militia that fought in the Battle of the Rice Boats, and Georgia delegates were sent to the Continental Congress with actual instructions.

    In addition, pieces were put in place to write a constitution for Georgia, a good first step toward the document that was created later in the year and adopted the following February.

  • Congress Makes A Tough Call–March 14, 1776

    Cover art for March 14, 1776: Portrait of John Hancock (detail) by John Singleton Copley, ca. 1765.

    There’s a ninth season episode of The Simpsons called “Sideshow Bob’s Last Gleaming” in which Bart’s nemesis, Sideshow Bob, steals a nuclear bomb and threatens to detonate it unless the town disables all of its television broadcasts. He delivers this ultimatum via a Jumbotron screen. Before ending the transmission, he says, “By the way, I’m aware of the irony of appearing on TV in order to decry it…so don’t bother pointing that out.”

    And to a certain extent, that’s what happened today in 1776 as well. The Colonies were protesting British oppression, but in order to do that successfully, they had to briefly resort to British tactics.

    It’s an unfortunate truism that the “good” side often has to resort to the “bad” side’s means of doing things to achieve an objective. On the other hand, the difference between the “good” and the “bad” side is that the “good” side is willing to undo the thing they did.

    I cited The Simpsons above, but I’m sure you could come up with your own specific television episodes in which this is what happens. (I’m sure you can because another one just came to mind, but I’m not sharing it.)