The Little Book of the Flag.

by Eva March Tappan.

CHAPTER I

THE FLAGS THAT BROUGHT THE COLONISTS

More than three hundred years ago a little sailing vessel set out from Holland, crossed the Atlantic Ocean, and followed down our coast from Greenland. Its captain, Henry Hudson, was in search of a quick and easy route to Asia, and when he entered the mouth of the river that is named for him, he hoped that he had found a strait leading to the Asiatic coast. He was disappointed in this, but the Indians welcomed him, the mountains were rich in forests, and the ground was fertile. "It is the most beautiful land in all the world," declared the enthusiastic navigator.

Henry Hudson was an Englishman, but he sailed in the employ of the Dutch East India Company, and soon the flag of this Company was well known along the Hudson River. It was the old flag of Holland, three horizontal stripes, of orange, white, and blue, with the initials of the Company on the white stripe. Hudson had not found a new route to Asia, but he had opened the way for the fur-trade. In a few years the Dutch had established trading-posts as far north as Albany. They had also founded a city which we call "New York," but which they named "New Amsterdam."

So it was that in 1609 the Dutch flag first came to the New World.

Nearly thirty years after the voyage of Henry Hudson, a company of Swedes made a settlement on the Delaware River. This had been planned by the great Gustavus Adolphus, King of Sweden. "That colony will be the jewel of my kingdom," he said; but the "Lion of the North" was slain in battle, and his twelve-year-old daughter Christina had become queen. That is why the loyal Swedes named their little fortification Fort Christiana, and over it they raised the flag of their country, a blue banner with a yellow cross.

In course of time the Swedes were overpowered by the Dutch, and then the Dutch by the English; so that before many years had pa.s.sed, the only flag that floated over the "Old Thirteen" colonies was that of England. This was brought across the sea by the settlers of our first English colony, Jamestown, in Virginia. Moreover, they had the honor of sailing away from England in all the glories of a brand-new flag made in a brand-new design. The flag of England had been white with a red upright cross known as "St. George's Cross"; but a new king, James I, had come to the throne, and the flag as well as many other things had met with a change. James was King of Scotland by birth, and the Scotch flag was blue with the white diagonal cross of St. Andrew. When James became King of England, he united the two flags by placing on a blue background the upright cross of St. George over the diagonal cross of St. Andrew; and he was so well pleased with the result that he commanded every English vessel to bear in its maintop this flag, "joined together according to the form made by our own heralds," the King declared with satisfaction. It was the custom at that time to call "ancient" whatever was not perfectly new, and therefore the flag used before James became king was spoken of as the "ancient flag,"

while the new one became the "King's Flag" or the "Union Jack." This change was made in the very year when the grant for Virginia was obtained, and therefore the little company of settlers probably sailed for America with the "King's Flag" in the maintop and the "ancient flag" in the foretop.

On land, among the colonists, sometimes one flag was floated and sometimes the other. In Ma.s.sachusetts the red cross of St. George seems to have been much in use; but before long that red cross began to hurt the consciences of the Puritans most grievously. To them the cross was the badge of the Roman Catholic Church. Still, it was on the flag of their mother country, the flag that floated over their forts and their ships. The Puritan conscience was a stern master, however, and when one day John Endicott led the little company of Salem militia out for a drill, and saw that cross hanging over the governor's gate, the sight was more than he could bear, and he--but Hawthorne has already told the story:--

Endicott gazed around at the excited countenances of the people, now full of his own spirit, and then turned suddenly to the standard-bearer, who stood close behind him.

"Officer, lower your banner!" said he.

The officer obeyed; and brandishing his sword, Endicott thrust it through the cloth, and, with his left hand, rent the red cross completely out of the banner. He then waved the tattered ensign above his head.

"Sacrilegious wretch!" cried the High Churchman in the pillory, unable longer to restrain himself, "thou hast rejected the symbol of our holy religion!"

"Treason, treason!" roared the Royalist in the stocks. "He hath defaced the King's banner!"

"Before G.o.d and man, I will avouch the deed," answered Endicott.

"Beat a flourish, drummer!--shout, soldiers and people!--in honor of the ensign of New England. Neither Pope nor Tyrant hath part in it now!"

With a cry of triumph the people gave their sanction to one of the boldest exploits which our history records.

Endicott was one of the court a.s.sistants, but he was now removed from his position and forbidden to hold any public office for one year. He was fortunate in being permitted to retain his head.

Endicott had been punished, but the Puritan conscience was not yet at rest, and now many of the militia declared that they did not think it right to march under the cross. The whole militia could not well be punished, and the commissioners for military affairs were as doubtful as the honest militia men about what should be done. "We will leave it to the next General Court to decide," they said, "and in the meantime no flags shall be used anywhere."

This seemed a comfortable way to settle the question, but unluckily there was a fort on Castle Island at the entrance to Boston Harbor, and when an English vessel came sailing in, its captain refused to pay any attention to a fort without a flag. Then the officer in command rose to his dignity and made the ship--maybe with the aid of a ball across her bows--strike her colors. The captain complained to the authorities that the commandant of this flagless fort had insulted his flag and his country. The authorities were just a bit alarmed. To insult a flag and a country was a serious matter. "What shall we do to make amends?" they queried. "Let the officer who proffered the insult come on board of my vessel and say in the presence of the ship's company that he was in fault," replied the captain. This was done, and the sky cleared.

But the troubles of the colonists were by no means over. The mate of another vessel declared with considerable emphasis that these people were all rebels and traitors to the King. Surely the thought of such a report as this going back to England from a tiny colony clinging to the edge of the continent was enough to alarm the boldest. Discussions were held, and Dr. John Cotton was appealed to.

A canny man was this Dr. John Cotton, and he decided that inasmuch as the fort belonged to the King, it was proper that it should display the King's Flag, whatever it might be,--"while vessels are pa.s.sing,"

he added shrewdly; but that, as for the militia, each company might have its own colors, and not one of them need bear a cross. So the great tempest pa.s.sed by.

CHAPTER II

THE PINE-TREE FLAG AND OTHERS

In some of the colonies at least, the people must have led a rather somber life, with little pleasure, much hard work, and much discomfort; but they fairly reveled in flags. The Indians in their warfare preferred to hide behind trees rather than to flourish banners, and the white men soon learned to follow their example.

Nevertheless, it always seemed to the minds of the colonists a little irregular and out of place not to carry a flag of some sort when they were setting out on an expedition.

Probably we do not know one in twenty of all the designs for banners that entered the fertile minds of these colonists, but they were so numerous that if they had all been displayed at the same time, they would have almost hidden the settlements. Not all colonists were as afraid of a cross as were the good folk of Salem. In Newbury, Ma.s.sachusetts, a certain company of foot rejoiced in a flag of vivid green. In the upper corner next the staff was a square of white containing a red cross. The kindly councilor, who had ordered the flag to be made in England "with all convenient speed," evidently had some sense of humor, for he wrote at the end of his letter to the company, "The number of bullets to be put into your colors for distinction may be left out at present without damage in the making of them." Another flag, belonging to a company of Ma.s.sachusetts cavalry, seems to have been something quite out of the common, for it was of damask and silk and adorned with silver fringe. A real artist must have used his brush upon it, for the bill read, "For painting in oyle on both sides a Cornett on rich crimson damask, with a hand and sword and invelloped with a scarfe about the arms of gold, black and silver"; and for all that gorgeousness, generously painted "on both sides," the charge was the moderate one of 5 2_s._ 6_d._ This was made for what was known as the "Three County Troop," composed of cavalry from Ess.e.x, Middles.e.x, and Suffolk Counties in Ma.s.sachusetts, and was probably used in King Philip's War.

Now, wherever a discoverer planted the sole of his foot, he took possession for his sovereign of all the land in sight and all the land which joined that land. Naturally, the claims of the colonies soon conflicted. The good folk of New England made an alliance to defend themselves against the Dutch, Swedes, and French. They managed to be good allies for forty years without a flag. Then came one brilliant enough to make up for the delay, and sent to them across the sea by no less a man than King James II himself. This was of white with a St.

George's cross of red. In the center of the cross was a golden crown and under it the King's monogram in black. A few years later matters in England had changed. King James II had proved to be a very poor sort of sovereign, and it was made clear to him that for his health and comfort--possibly for his head--it would be wise for him to leave the country. This he did in alarm and at full speed, tossing the royal seal into the Thames on his way. It is small wonder that New Englanders preferred a new flag. The only marvel is that they waited so long a time before getting it. When it was finally chosen, it proved to be red with a white canton or union cut by a red St. George's cross into four squares. In one of these squares was the representation of a pine tree.

This representation can hardly have been a work of art, for one historian says unkindly of it that it "no more resembled a pine tree than a cabbage." Evidently the brave colonists were not artists.

Nevertheless, even if the good folk of Ma.s.sachusetts could not draw a pine tree, they were fond of it, and their General Court decreed that it should be stamped upon the coins minted in that colony. Now it was the right of the King to coin money, and when Charles II heard that the ambitious colonists were making it for themselves, he was not pleased.

"But it is only for their own use," said a courtier who favored the colonies, and taking a New England coin from his pocket, he showed it to the King. "What tree is that?" demanded the aggrieved monarch. "That,"

said the quick-witted courtier, "is the royal oak which saved Your Majesty's life." "Well, well," said the King, "those colonists are not so bad after all. They're a parcel of honest dogs!" Perhaps they were, even if their likenesses of pine trees could not be distinguished from cabbages and oaks. Hawthorne's story, "The Pine-Tree Shillings," is written about this inartistic coinage.

So the story of the flags went on. Besides the English flag every little company of militia had its standard. One flag bore a hemisphere in the corner in place of a pine tree, and another bore nothing but a tree. The colonists did not trouble themselves about being artistic or choosing colors of any special significance; if the ground of the flag was of one color and the cross or whatever other figure was chosen was of another, they were satisfied. Charleston, South Carolina, had a specially elegant flag--blue with a silver crescent--to use on "dress-up" days. After a time even the Indians were sometimes furnished with flags, for one kindly governor gave them a Union Jack as a protection. He presented them also with a red flag to indicate war and a white one as a sign of peace; and probably the fortunate Indians felt with all this magnificence quite like white folk.

In 1745, when that remarkable expedition of New Englanders--which had "a lawyer for contriver, a merchant for general, and farmers, fishermen, and mechanics for soldiers"--set off to capture Louisburg from the French, they sailed proudly away under a flag whereon was written in Latin, "Never despair, for Christ is our leader." It was on this same expedition that a new flag was hoisted, the like of which was never seen before. An officer discovered that a battery on the sh.o.r.e of the harbor was apparently vacant. There was no flag flying from the staff and no smoke rising from the chimney. It looked as if that battery might be taken easily. On the other hand it was also quite possible that this was a ruse and was meant to decoy the colonists within. The officer concluded to run the risk--of losing the life of some one else. Holding up a bottle of brandy before the thirsty gaze of an Indian, he said, "If I give you this, will you creep in at that embrasure and open the gate?" The red man grunted a.s.sent, crept in, and opened the gate. Then the officer and twelve men took possession. Soon a message went from the officer to his general as follows: "May it please your honor to be informed that by the grace of G.o.d and the courage of thirteen men, I entered the royal battery about nine o'clock, and am awaiting for a reinforcement and a flag."

Sometimes the colonists were wanting in the grace of patience, and this was one of the occasions. A soldier, tired of delay, decided that, although he could not provide reinforcements, he could provide a flag; so up the staff he clambered with a red coat in his teeth. He nailed it to the top of the staff, and it swung out in the wind, much to the alarm of the citizens, who sent one hundred men in boats to recapture the battery. The hundred men fired, but the brave little company kept them from landing and held their position till the general could send help.

CHAPTER III

LIBERTY AND LIBERTY POLES

After the middle of the eighteenth century there was much talk among the colonies of liberty. It is possible that not all the people were quite clear in their minds what that "liberty" might mean; but whatever it was, they wanted it. England required nothing more of her colonies than other nations required of theirs. The colonies asked nothing of England that would not be granted to-day as a matter of course. The difficulty was that the mother country was living in the eighteenth century, while the colonists were looking forward into the nineteenth. A demand for liberty was in the air. The pole on which a flag was hung was not called a flag pole, but a liberty pole.

Most of the flags on these liberty poles bore mottoes, many of them decidedly bold and defiant. When the Stamp Act was pa.s.sed, the wrath of the people rose, and now they knew exactly what they wanted--"No taxation without representation." The stamped paper brought to South Carolina was carefully stowed away in a fort. Thereupon three volunteer companies from Charleston took possession of the fort, ran up a blue flag marked with three white crescents, and destroyed the paper. New York's flag had one word only, but that one word was "Liberty."

Portsmouth, New Hampshire, had a banner inscribed "Liberty, Property, and no Stamps." In Newburyport, Ma.s.sachusetts, there was a regular patrol of men armed with stout sticks. "What do you say, stamps or no stamps?" they demanded of every stranger, and if he had a liking for a whole skin, he replied emphatically, "No stamps." One wary newcomer replied courteously, "I am what you are," and was uproariously cheered.

In going from one colony to another, it was not uncommon for a man to get a pa.s.sport from the sons of Liberty to attest to his standing as a "Liberty man." When the stamps made their first appearance, Boston tolled her church bells and put her flags at half-mast. Indeed, a new sort of flag appeared in the shape of an effigy of Oliver, the stamp distributor, swinging from the bough of a great elm which stood by the main entrance to town. The Chief Justice ordered this image to be removed. "Certainly," replied the people politely, "we will take it down ourselves this very evening." So they did, but they laid it upon a bier and marched in a long procession through the old State House. Here, in the Council Chamber, the Governor and his Council were deliberating.

Shouts came up from below, "Liberty, Property, and no Stamps!" and "Death to the man who offers a piece of stamped paper to sell!" "Beat an alarm," the Chief Justice commanded the colonel of the militia. "But I cannot," replied the colonel, "my drummers are in the mob." The procession marched on, burned the effigy in front of the distributor's house, gave three rousing cheers, and went home. In New York, when the rumor spread that a ship laden with stamps was approaching, all the vessels in the harbor put their colors at half-mast.

When every distributor of stamps had resigned his office, there was another outburst of banners. Charleston, South Carolina, hoisted a liberty flag, surmounted by a branch of laurel. The tree in Boston on which the effigy of the stamp distributor had been hung had become an important member of colonial society. It had been formally named the "Liberty Tree," and the ground under it was called "Liberty Hall."

Banners were often swung from its branches, and notices were nailed to its trunk. Fastened firmly to the trunk was a tall liberty pole, and whenever any one caught a glimpse of a red flag waving from the top of the pole, he knew that the Sons of Liberty were to hold a meeting.

When the Stamp Act was repealed, the Liberty Tree was the very center of rejoicing. At one o'clock in the morning, the church bell nearest it was rung joyfully. At the first rays of dawn, the houses about it, even the steeple of the church, all blossomed out with banners, and at night the tree itself was aglow with lanterns. In New York a liberty pole was set up with a splendid new flag on which was inscribed, "The King, Pitt, and Liberty." It almost seemed as if "liberty" meant having whatever sort of flag might suit one's whim.

This New York pole had rather a hard time. British soldiers cut it down twice, and when a third pole was raised, sheathed with iron around its base, they managed to cut that down also, although it bore the legend, "To His Most Gracious Majesty George III, Mr. Pitt, and Liberty." The city authorities would not risk planting another pole on city land, and thereupon the Sons of Liberty bought a piece of land for themselves, and marched up in brilliant procession; first a full band, playing with all its might, then six horses, made gorgeous with bright ribbons, drawing from the shipyard a fine new pole, sheathed in iron two thirds of its length. It was escorted by the Sons of Liberty in full numbers. Three flags floated over the little procession, but their mottoes were not so impressively loyal as the earlier ones. These read, "Liberty and Property." Nevertheless, "liberty" did not yet mean separation from the mother country; it meant only freedom in making some of their own laws; and what was known as the "Union Flag" did not refer to any union of the colonies, but rather to the union of Scotland and England. This flag, the regular flag of England, was red, with the crosses of St. George and St. Andrew on a blue field forming the Jack.

Once, however, more than twenty years before the Revolutionary War, there had been some talk of a union of colonies, beginning with the suggestions of the most far-sighted man in America, Benjamin Franklin.

In 1754, when war between France and England was on the point of breaking out, there was a meeting at Albany of delegates from several colonies. They had come to see if they could make sure of the aid of the Six Nations of Indian tribes; and here the sagacious Franklin brought forward his plan for a union. His scheme was for the colonies to elect a Grand Council, which should meet every year in Philadelphia, to levy taxes, enlist soldiers, plan for defense, and, in short, to attend to whatever concerned all the colonies. Whatever affected them separately was to be managed by the colony interested.

This Council was to have much the same powers as our Congress of to-day; but there must be a place in the scheme for the King, of course; so Franklin proposed that the King should appoint a president who should have the right to veto the acts of the Grand Council. This was the "Albany Plan." Franklin was much in earnest about the matter, and had a cut made for the _Pennsylvania Gazette_ picturing a rather unpleasant device, a snake sliced uncomfortably into ten parts, the head marked "NE," for New England, and each of the other pieces with the initials of some one of the other nine colonies. With the motto, "Unite or die," this work of art appeared for a number of issues at the head of the _Gazette_; but many years pa.s.sed before the colonies began to make any practical use of the wisdom of Franklin in 1754.