Americanism Redux

March 20, your today, on the journey to the American Founding, 250 years ago, in 1775

“Everything, Everywhere, All At Once.”

It’s a film title in the early 2020s.

250 years ago today, it’s also a pretty good description of what the imperial-colonial crisis feels like, has nearly turned into, for the daily lives of people in many parts of British America.

Everything.

Everywhere.

All at once.

* * * * * * *

(like the Beulah)

In New York City, John and Robert Murray, owners of the ship “Beulah”, are now free of trouble. Mostly. They’ve been under the tough scrutiny of the Committee Of Investigation (COI) for their ship having landed in violation of the “Continental Association”, the economic boycott designed by the Continental Congress last fall and implemented locally by the colonial-rights supporters who sit on the COI. The Murrays’s ship had cloth, pins, paper, and books aboard, all banned from the British Isles until further notice—which means whenever Parliament agrees to repeal the Coercive Acts that punish Boston and Massachusetts. Not yet.

As punishment, the Murrays handed over a large donation to the building of a new hospital in New York City. The old one burned down a few weeks ago.

John and Robert cast wary glances over their shoulders as they walk the streets of New York City.

* * * * * * *

(Ethan Allen, leader of Hough’s whipping and beating)

Also in the colony of New York, the British-appointed governor, Cadwalader Colden, and his five-person Council—a formal group of British-appointed advisors—are asking the elected legislature to act on a recent outbreak of violence against Benjamin Hough. He was the target of a brutal whipping by the “Green Mountain Boys” of Ethan Allen from the vicinity of Bennington. They whipped him 200 times as part of a campaign to break away from New York’s authority and jurisdiction. They beat him for being, in their view, a tool of British imperial power.

Colden and the Councilors are also pondering requests to make changes in the appointments of lawyers and judges. They’re balancing the regular monitoring of legal personnel against the outbursts of violence that are occurring at alarming rates.

Make changes? Or hold tight? And in either instance, how long to stick with the decision?

Aye, them’s the questions.

* * * * * * *

(the portrayal of Lee, in the series Turn)

General Charles Lee, a veteran officer of the British Army and now-a-days gadabout military consultant to uneasy British colonies and communities in America, is again in the public eye.

He’s publishing a letter in a newspaper printed in Hartford, colony of Connecticut. He’s writing to the Earl Percy, a nobleman who holds the rank of Colonel of the British 5^th Infantry Regiment stationed in Boston. Percy’s unit is part of the Redcoat military force led by General Thomas Gage and responsible for enforcing the harsh Coercive Acts in Boston and the colony of Massachusetts.

Lee’s public letter is a lamentation of the current state of decay in British-colonial relations. He defends the colonial-rights cause as the common ground of humanity. He also implores Percy to reach outside a small clutch of advisors who give him biased information. Instead of listening only to them, Lee urges, read such illuminating accounts as “The True State of the Proceedings of Parliament in Great Britain and in the province of Massachusetts Bay”. Written by Arthur Lee (no relation) last year, Charles Lee believes the booklet can change Percy’s view of the current crisis. Lee thinks Percy can be changed into a colonial-rights supporter.

If only the people who oppose us can hear and see and know the truth.

The printed letter to Percy is yet another example of the high-profile Lee has maintained in recent months. For many readers, it’s Lee’s name that they associate with whatever armed power and military force might have to use to defend colonial rights.

* * * * * * *

(New Haven, where Munson lives)

South of Hartford, in New Haven, colony of Connecticut, William Munson counts up the remaining muskets that he still has for sale out of his home.

A few of the muskets come with bayonets attached at the end of the barrel.

Seeing General Charles Lee’s name in print—apparently an expert in the ways of war—might remind a reader or two to get down there to Munson’s house.

You don’t want to get caught weaponless if something happens and the imperial-colonial crisis descends further into violence or organized warfare.

* * * * * * *

(celebrating 9 years ago)

In the colony of Maryland, a group of German Protestants gather to mark the 9-year anniversary of the repeal of the Stamp Act in March 1766. Parliament had bent to the pressure of colonial protests and a 9-colony Congress’s economic boycott. 

They pray for history to repeat or rhyme with itself. May the template work again.

* * * * * * *

(voice of the triad)

Peyton Randolph is in Richmond, colony of Virginia, trying his best to see that such a descent doesn’t occur.

53-years old, round-faced, and with dark eyes, Randolph yells for the 95 delegates to settle down on their first day of meeting. They’ve been elected from across the colony to convene and tackle the ongoing imperial-colonial crisis. The group has chosen Randolph to be president of the convention and John Tazewell as convention clerk.

Standing at the front of the meeting hall, Randolph speaks in a loud voice. He calls out to urge the delegates to show “prudence, decency, and order” during proceedings over the next few days.

Continuing this first day’s business, Randolph designates a Christian minister to offer a daily convention prayer.

Finally, Randolph asks for the 95 delegates to return tomorrow having done their “homework” assignment: read the papers of last fall’s Continental Congress and letters recently sent from England by lobbyists Benjamin Franklin, Arthur Lee, and William Bollan.

George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Patrick Henry, and 92 other delegates adjourn and get busy with their overnight work.

Watching the group disband for the day, Peyton Randolph hopes his triad call for “prudence, decency, and order” stays at the forefront of everyone’s minds.

* * * * * * *

(so horses are now controversial?)

A Peyton-like sigh of relief can be felt in Charleston, colony of South Carolina. Tensions were boiling in these recent days over what to do with a controversial shipment of horses, riding equipment, and carts.

The equine cargo had been aboard a British ship that docked in the town’s port. The struggle began immediately with whether or not the animals and materials could be landed in defiance of the “Continental Association” economic boycott.

It was thought a compromise had been reached when the pro-let-them-land group agreed that the horses would only be allowed ashore for a brief time. The anti-let-them-land crowd fiercely disputed the agreement. Fears of open violence quickly increased as the entire episode became a flashpoint in Charleston’s imperial-colonial strife.

“Quiet” had been restored when the shipment was finally denied access to landing.

But everyone in Charleston knows that such a problem will only reappear in different form next day, next week, next month. Except maybe things could get out of hand and “quiet” becomes unreachable.

If so, then what?

* * * * * * *

The crisis seems to wait under every rock. Turn up enough of them and, sooner or later, stuff happens in a big way.

Also

(rock-solid majority)

Today, 250 years ago, a large majority of the British Parliament votes to approve the New England Restraining Act. Starting July 1, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, and Connecticut will only be permitted to trade with the British Isles, Ireland, and the British West Indies, and fishing in New England waters will be totally banned.

It is a direct response to the “Continental Association” launched by the upstart “Congress” last fall in Philadelphia.

To become the full force of law, King George III must sign the bill.

Want to play the game, colonists? Fine, here’s a punch in the face and a kick in the gut from the British Parliament. We’re doubling down and you’ll double over.

* * * * * * *

(solo)

Arthur Lee, author of a popular pro-colonial rights booklet last year, learns that he’s now on his own in London, England.

Lobbyist and colonial expert Benjamin Franklin is boarding a ship back to America. Franklin hopes to return to England in about six months. Until then, Lee will fly solo as a major colonial lobbyist, media tracker, anonymous media source, and spokesman on American issues.

The task in front of Lee will require every ounce of his energy, judgment, and strategic thinking. By himself.

For You Now

A broad upward push of momentum exists in our story that wasn’t present a year ago or even six months ago. It’s rising up in countless spots, lifting, stretching, pulling loose from underneath. Lines and connections that were laying quiet have gone taut and tight. You can hear the strain, and you wonder if it’s the sound of fibers tearing and threads breaking. Or maybe the ties are already cut and floating on the surface and you just don’t know it.

It’s not one place or area anymore. You look across flood waters and hills are islands, creeks are torrents, trees are upright sticks. Barriers and distinctions have vanished under an endless surface of events flowing fast and wild. An appearance of total connection and seamlessness is in fact dangerous and ever more isolating and treacherous than ever before.

There stands Peyton Randolph and his verbal triad of prudence, decency, and order. Can his triad withstand the waters? Is it viable as the levels go up? Does the triad hold weight and stay worthy?

For now, the water steadily rises, fractions grow to an inch, an inch grows to inches, and then inches upon inches. Some things have submerged while most remain above and visible. Points of reference are markable. The path you walked last season is still perceptible. Walk carefully, the ground is soddened, and the banks are slick and giving way.

In America, 250 years ago today, there are not yet battles or fighting. So much else, though, is in place, amid water pouring from the sky. If or when armed conflict appears, rising water will have become flooding water, and flooding water will be everything, everywhere, all at once.

As Johnny Cash once sang, “how high’s the water, Mama? Four feet high and risin’.”

Suggestion

Take a moment to consider: what’s your measurement for distinguishing rising water from flooding water?