Tag: Second Continental Congress

  • The Address That Didn’t Happen–May 29, 1776

    Cover art for May 29, 1776: Portrait of Caesar Rodney, possibly by John Thomas Scharf, circa 1888. There are no contemporary portraits of Rodney known to be extant.

    While the Second Continental Congress always had a lot going on, not creating “an animated address” to make the Independence movement appearent to everyone seems like an odd failure.

    But sure enough, when it was recommended that such an address be created, this specific committee came up with nothing. Other committees appear to have presented addresses without problems, and many delegates worked on multiple committees, so was this an oversight? Was it overwork? Or perhaps the need to actually write a Declaration of Independence obviated the need for creating “an animated address”?

  • Making A Play For The Natives–May 25, 1776

    Cover art for May 25, 1776: The first page of the address to the Iroquois Indians. It's in George Wythe's handwriting, but the identity of the person making the speech was not recorded.

    The Continental Congress knew that good relationship with the Native Americans was the smart thing to do, but it took them months to put together the Committee for Indian Affairs, even when their first attempt to bring the natives in failed miserably.

    In that first try, they came to the upstate New York and framed the Revolution as though it was a family dispute. The Iroquois, taking that literally, decided to stay out of the affair, then.

    This time around, the Iroquois (and shame on me, I should be saying Haudenosauree) came to Philadelphia, but in my humble opinion they weren’t treated especially well, having to wait for several days to meet with the Congress, and several more days to hear the proposal that the Committee for Indian Affairs put together. Small wonder, then, that they simply left without even responding to the Americans’ offer.

  • Mr. Washington Goes To Philadelphia–May 24, 1776

    Cover art for May 24, 1776: A marble statue of George Washington erected in Philadelphia in the 1860s. This photo was taken in the early 1890s. The statue was eventually moved to an indoor location and a bronze replica put in its place.

    The idea of George Washington in Philadelphia sounds kind of like a no-brainer, but with dealing with a war against the greatest army in the world, plus having to put up with ill-trained troops to fight that war, he was a busy guy and didn’t get out there much.

    Later on, after the war, of course, it was a common sight. But given Washington’s post-war stature as the soldier who delivered American victory, plus his stint as our first President—and the man who set many of the precedents for Presidential behaviors and ceremonies—it makes sense that Philadelphia would erect a statue to honor him, and park it right in front of Independence Hall.

    The first statue of Washington in Philadephia was erected in 1869 and dedicated by the mayor. After about 40 years it began to show signs of the weather and overall climate getting to it, so a decision was made to replace it with a bronze replica and move the marble version to an indoor location. It now stands inside Philadelphia’s City Hall, while the bronze one still stands outside Independence Hall, where it has been since 1910.

    Today, Mike takes you to this day in 1776, when Washington felt he had no choice but to speak to Congressional delegates himself

  • Delegates Start Getting Their Orders–May 23, 1776

    Cover art for May 23, 1776: portrait of James Duane by John Trumbull, 1805.

    Once the preamble to Congress’ resolution had been written and unanimously approved back on May 15, it really was just a matter of when, rather than whether, America was going to formally declare itself as a separate state from England.

    The hardest part was getting all the ducks in a row, as the expression goes. The biggest reason that independence hadn’t already been declared is that anything that came out of the Continental Congress had to pass unanimously, so they could speak with a single voice. Now, at the delegate level, they didn’t all have to vote the same way, but once a majority of the delegates from a given colony voted a certain way, then the colony voted that way as part of the larger body.

    Some colonies had the green light to vote in the affirmative, as long as a different colony brought up the question. Georgia was rather split within the state, and was also more concerned with the skirmishes they were having at the border with Florida. So they mostly didn’t care. New York delegates, as we mentioned yesterday, arrived with instructions not to vote on Independence at all. Even when they finally did vote, it was technically against their orders.

    But one of the more passionate sets of orders came from a group in Boston. Put your earbuds in and learn about how florid writing can really get your point across.

  • Thomas Jefferson’s Origin Story–May 14, 1776

    Cover art for May 14, 1776: Portrait of Thomas Jefferson in 1791, by Charles Willson Peale. Now hanging in Independence Hall.

    Thomas Jefferson gets most of the credit for writing the Declaration of Independence, but Thomas Jefferson’s background clearly informed his writing of that document. That’s what Mike talks about in today’s episode.

    In this space I’d like to tell you a little about Declaration House. The building was newly erected at the time Jefferson rented out a room from its builder, a bricklayer named Jacob Graff (which is why it was originally called the Graff House, go figure).

    Jefferson lived in the space with his 14-year-old enslaved valet, Robert Hemmings. Between 1776 and 1883, the house underwent several remodelings until it was finally torn down. It was reconstructed in 1975 by the National Park Service, and when it’s open, it has some museum exhibits on the first floor along with a short film about the drafting of the Declaration. The second floor is a reproduction of the space Jefferson used, containing period furnishings.

    As this is published, the site has been closed to the public since 2025 as part of a comprehensive rehabilitation project.

  • Change Comes From Within–May 10, 1776

    Cover art for May 10, 1776: Portrait of Richard Henry Lee (cropped) by Charles Willson Peale, ca. 1795-1805. via National Portrait Gallery.

    You may remember a couple of the Colonies chose to endorse independence without necessarily declaring it. This suggested that a formal declaration from the Colonies as a whole was likely imminent.

    You may also remember that motions by the Second Continental Congress needed to be voted on unanimously in order to pass, so they could “speak as one voice.”

    To that end, the Congress recommended today that Colonies with a government that wasn’t in favor of independence, form a new government that would be more likely to endorse independence. It’s not entirely clear how they expected the individual Colonies to effect this recommendation, but before long it wouldn’t be difficult at all.

  • 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.

  • 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.