Americanism Redux

April 10, your today, on the journey to the American Founding, 250 years ago, in 1775

To continue life and living.

To change life and living.

Which is it? Can they co-incide?

It’s 250 years ago for both today and the week’s days leading up to today.

* * * * * * *

(first, in this direction…)

Okay, okay, okay. He’s heard enough. Yes, it’s been discussed, debated, considered. The strategy of ordering a military expedition to strike into the Massachusetts countryside has been on the table for quite a while.

British General Thomas Gage has never been totally opposed to it. The bigger questions and doubts pertained to resources, timing, intelligence, and so on. To some, he’s delayed, to others, he’s analyzed.

But now, he’s satisfied. A highly placed mole inside the protestors’ (troublemakers?) leadership has said “a sudden blow struck now or immediately upon the arrival of reinforcement from England would cripple all the rebels’ plans.”

Done. Draw up the plans. Get the units together. Identify the necessary transport. Redcoats, await orders to be on the move. As another era might say, let’s do this.

* * * * * * *

(now, in this direction)

Funny thing about highly placed secret intelligence…it can flow in more than one direction.

Paul Revere has already ridden a horse from Salem to Concord in the colony of Massachusetts to warn local protest leaders about the need to move weapons and ammunition. Also, folks like Samuel Adams and John Hancock need to be vigilant and ready to shift locations on a minute’s notice. (No, reader, it’s not THAT ride yet)

A highly placed secret intel source within Gage’s inner circle has divulged the general’s intentions.

* * * * * * *

(some of the waters of Freetown)

At nearly the same moment British General Thomas Gage finalizes his decision for military action, a similar operation is already under way on the side of the protestors, the rebels, the colonial-rights supporters.

210 men from Rehoboth, colony of Massachusetts, march quickly the sixteen miles to Freetown. They seize forty sets of British muskets, complete with ammunition and equipment. The group is a combination of militia (traditional town-based volunteers) and minute-men (newly formed military first-responders in this crisis). They’ve voted on two officers to be in charge: Captain John Daggett and Colonel Timothy Walker.

The group executed the mission flawlessly and with no violence. A sign of things to come? They certainly hope and pray so.

* * * * * * *

(Hancock, army-maker)

The things to come—yes, the things to come.

John Hancock is exhausted after this last week. He’s been the presiding officer of the Provincial Congress that’s been meeting in Concord, colony of Massachusetts. Hancock is stunned, amazed, at the votes they’ve had, the policies now in place, the state in which a new reality emerged, the state of things to come.

First, the Provincial Congress organized the colony’s men into a new Massachusetts army. “Having great confidence in the honor and public virtue of the Inhabitants of this Colony, that they (the men) will readily obey the Officers chosen by themselves, and will cheerfully do their duty when known, without any such severe Articles and Rules—except in capital cases—and cruel punishments as are usually practiced in Standing Armies, and will submit to all such Rules and Regulations as are founded in reason, honor, and virtue.” 53 rules and regulations (the first of which deals with going to church) are then agreed upon by Hancock and 102 other members. Enacted.

Second, three days later, Hancock and the Provincial Congress agree to contact protest leaders in Connecticut, New Hampshire, and Rhode Island to coordinate a regional response and organize a regional army. It’s a return to the policy of the French and Indian War—the first world war—where the four colonies did as much four-way coordination as possible. The old band is getting back together. Enacted.

Third and finally, just yesterday, specific members of the Provincial Congress are chosen to begin communication as quickly as possible about the regional army and regional approach. Enacted.

All of this jelled and hardened in a matter of a handful of days—requiring years or months before but now in a set of hours!—and while the Rehoboth mission was undertaken and Revere’s ride brought secret intel from inside Gage’s inner circle.

A new army with 53 rules of their own creation? A revival of a proven military collaboration? A direct communication to flip the switch and start the gears turning? God Almighty.

Racing ahead are new decisions and riding alongside are invisible implications.

* * * * * * *

(unless it’s top quality, forget about it)

Near Fredericksburg, colony of Virginia, the discussion is about decidedly different topics: sashes and books.

Sashes are woven and colored strips of cloth worn around the waist, somewhat like a belt, though a bit longer in length. The custom from roughly a century ago is that officers wear sashes and ordinary soldiers do not. Part of the origin was pure vanity—another way to distinguish officer from soldiers in the ranks. Part of the origin was practical vanity—it could serve as a handheld stretcher to carry the officer wounded in combat. An infantryman would have to struggle back on his own.

The men who will be officers in Virginia’s militia units are deciding that if they can’t get the kind of sashes they want, they’d rather not have sashes at all. Go best or go home.

These same men are also busy reading copies of a military training manual written eleven years ago in 1764. The book reflects the latest techniques fresh from the first world war called the French and Indian War in America, or the Seven Years War in Europe. Is it today’s best practice or tomorrow’s status quo?

* * * * * * *

(a brigantine)

Thomas Contee narrows his eyes and studies the Farmer. That’s the name of a brigantine, newly built. Contee checks out the soundness, the sea-worthiness, the steadiness, the dryness. He judges the Farmer to be a good investment. He buys the vessel for use in transporting tobacco to market.

* * * * * * *

(the site inspected)

A few days ago, a man and woman left their home in a carriage. They drove for three miles. Next to a creek, the man pulls the horse to a stop. Husband and wife get out of the carriage and walk to a tall wooden building with a water wheel. It’s a gristmill that they own. Out on an inspection trip, George and Martha Washington look carefully at the water level, the turning of the great wheel, and the operation of mechanical components inside the mill.

* * * * * * *

Walk today 250 years ago into a shop in Philadelphia and you might see the latest money, printed and in circulation, as new as the Brigantine Farmer. The money is a bond note issued in various amounts, with the highest being five “pounds.” They’ve been released in order to raise funds to build new jails in Philadelphia.

Buy the bond and put your money on the future, a bet on the note’s continued worth, which depends on…what, exactly?

* * * * * * *

A person sends a poem to the printer of the North Carolina Weekly Gazette, published in New Bern. Like the jail bonds of Philadelphia, it’s about the future, too. It’s “A Prophecy of the future Glory of America.”

“…Fair Freedom now her Ensigns bright displays/

And Peace and Plenty bless the golden Days/

In mighty Pomp America shall rise/

Her Glories spreading in the boundless Skies/

Of ev’ry Fair she boasts th’ assembled Charms/

The Queen of Empires, and the Nurse of Arms/

See where her Heroes mark their glorious Way/…”

* * * * * * *

Go back to the horse carrying news to Concord. Decisions in one bag, implications in the other. Toss them into the future and see where they land.

Also

(Gibbon older)

250 years ago this week, the conversation at supper is what it always is at the Literary Club on London’s St. James Street. Lively, wide-ranging, knowledge-based, intellect-heavy. Not for everyone, to be sure, but then again, it was never meant to be.

For 37-year old Edward Gibbon, one of the six people at the Club’s table, the supper conversation was typically head-spinning, ranging this week from the poems of Ossian, to the Irish and Erse languages, to music played during the Glorious Revolution of 1688-1689. Pass the port.

The latter event conjured up images of British politics, policy, and national identity. It’s a time of British rejuvenation, of changing the world and life led by British people.

These issues are front and center for one of Gibbon’s supper companions, Dr. Samuel Johnson, the Literary Club’s founder and organizer. Johnson had recently published a public essay on why the colonial-rights movement in America was weak, flawed, and undeserving of consideration. Johnson believed the same of people on either side of the Atlantic who defended the colonial-rights cause.

At the table, Johnson summed up his view with one of his trademark phrases, all punch and wallop: “patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel.”

His meaning is this: Out of effective arguments? Appeal to patriotism. Having a tough time convincing people? Appeal to patriotism. Unable to bring the facts to bear on the case you’re making? Appeal to patriotism.

The glass is empty. So is the bottle.

Across the table, Johnson’s remark fell hard on Edward Gibbon’s ears. He’s been working the past few years on Volume One of a projected multi-volume series. He’s calling it “The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”

The title points to the timeliness. With all the headaches and heartaches of dealing with the colonies in America, is Britain headed toward a decline and fall as an empire? Should we be worried if bad goes worse and we lose the colonies? Gibbon’s work promises to hit a hot market of readers when Volume One reaches the bookshops.

Volume One is not far from completion. In it, Gibbon is emphasizing the state of virtue in a people. He writes, “That public virtue was denominated patriotism, is derived from a strong sense of our own interest in the preservation and prosperity of the free government of which we are members.” He further writes, “The more ancient citizens had been exercised in those schools of war, in which the youth of every country are disciplined to the profession of arms; and the defense of their liberty was entrusted to a militia of brave and able-bodied patriots, who had already deserved the honor of the triumphal procession.”

With any luck, Volume One will be out next year, in 1776. As to Johnson’s blunt words, maybe we’ll return to them at the next supper.

* * * * * * *

(helping them out)

Elsewhere in London, at Parliament’s House of Commons, they’re reading a legislative bill, cleaning up details and aiming toward passage into law. The bill tightens and clarifies rules and regulations about the quartering, disciplining, and providing of British Redcoats in America. The assumption is that the Redcoats will be there for a long time—or is it a long while?—and they need proper support when not in combat or on the battlefield.

Once again, an ocean of saltwater makes for odd bedfellows in timing. The House of Commons and the Massachusetts Provincial Congress are tackling issues of war on either side of the Atlantic.

* * * * * * *

(a scholar’s attire)

A group of Chinese scholars are nearly done with a generations-long project called “The Twenty-Four Histories.” There are 3,213 volumes and the final one is almost done. Completion is sometime this year, 1775, 250 years ago.

For the first time, a complete set of the project will be available.

So no, Edward Gibbon, we’re not working on Volume One as part of the court of the Qianlong Emperor. We’re wrapping up Volume Three Thousand Two Hundred And Thirteen, of which Volume One was in 91 BCE, around the time that the Roman Empire began.

For You Now

We’ve hit the point where speed is everything. Events and actions are moving at lightning speed, and so are decisions, the need to make decisions, and the implications of decisions made. The ability to think things through and to think things out AND TO DO SO SWIFTLY is at a premium. In fact, I’ll go so far as to say that such a premium is at such a high value, it’s nearly nonexistent. No one can afford it.

People can’t think this thoroughly in a climate of speed and still get things done. Not rapid-fire over a constantly sustained period of time. What will happen is that they let go of the desired extended time and focus instead on either doing nothing at all or doing something they believe they can do. They give up thoughtful thinking and take on actual action or accepted inaction. One or the other.

And so, full circle, we’re back at the beginning with continuing life and living or changing life and living.

Which is it?

Suggestion

Take a moment to consider: which is clearer to you right now, decisions or implications, and then next, from them, is it change, or is it continuity?

(Your River)