1776! What a year! Things were wild back then. It’s when Adam Smith published An Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations, a founding text in the science of Economics.
Also that year, the thirteen colonies of America declared their independence from Britain. This year marks the semiquincentennial of that event—250 years, in other words.
Before we even begin, I question whether this even means that 1776 truly marks the founding of the country. It’s true that the colonies declared themselves independent and therefore separate from England, but the Constitution and the structure of government with which we are today familiar was not established until 1789. (Another interesting year.) So it is questionable, in my mind, whether the current system which claims to trace its ancestry back two and a half centuries is really quite correct.
Ah, except it is correct de facto, if not de jure, if for no other reason than because the United States government is a powerful entity, and, like the Mikado in The Mikado, its will is law, and if it says “let a thing be done” then practically it is done, and if it is done, then why not say so?
It was not always thus. As Mr. McCullough’s chronicle of that fateful year shows, the USA was far from a juggernaut when it started out. Very much the opposite. Indeed, perhaps it was the very rag-tag and humble nature of the initial colonial rebellion that enable it to be successful, for the mighty British government never took seriously the idea that it could succeed.
(And by the way, it is just Mr. McCullough. I was surprised to learn in writing this post that the late historian was not a professor, holding only a B.A. from Yale.)
Most of you know the story, in general outlines: America declares independence, British get BIG MAD, send army to subdue rebel colonists. George Washington is appointed commander-in chief of the rebel army. Things go poorly at first, especially at the Battle of White Plains, but then Washington crosses the Delaware and scores surprise victories at Trenton and Princeton to close out the year on a high note.
All of this I knew, not through any diligent scholarship or study, but from careful and complete viewing of the series Liberty’s Kids. (Possibly the second-greatest show to air on PBS kids, trailing only the incomparable Wishbone.)
Still, there are details Liberty’s Kids omitted out of care for its audience. It could not depict, for example, some of the more savage attacks perpetrated upon the civilian population by both sides. These are the sorts of details McCullough is able to relate to his more mature audience.
Also, both Liberty’s Kids and this book offer an incomplete picture of the British position. Both are strong in depicting William Howe as incompetent at best and a traitor at worst. Even Liberty’s Kids managed to hint at what 1776 notes explicitly regarding Howe’s proclivities, as described in the rebel song:
Sir William he, snug as a flea,
Lay all this time a-snoring;
Nor dreamt of harm, as he lay warm,
In bed with Mrs. Loring.
But Howe is only the tip of the immensely complicated iceberg that was the relationship of the British government towards the rebellion. Yes, there was more to it than just a bunch of sneering officers looking down their noses at the plucky rebels. The Star Wars-ification of history is one of the real plagues of our time.
Let’s begin with one of my favorite bits of trivia: perhaps you have heard of the New England Patriots of the National Football League, a team whose colors and logos are obviously tributes to the revolutionaries of 1776?
The connection runs even deeper: the Patriots play in Foxborough (often shortened to Foxboro) Massachusetts. Foxborough is a borough named after Charles James Fox.
Who was Charles James Fox, you ask? Well, he was a Whig Member of Parliament who was a staunch supporter of the colonist cause. Wikipedia provides a helpful summary:
….[W]ith the coming of the American War of Independence and the influence of the Whig Edmund Burke, Fox’s opinions evolved into some of the most radical to be aired in the British Parliament of his era.
Fox became a prominent and staunch opponent of King George III, whom he regarded as an aspiring tyrant. He supported the American Patriots and even dressed in the colours of George Washington‘s army.
You see, Britain was far from monolithic. The Whig party, which included many famous people such as Edmund Burke and Edward Gibbon, broadly supported the American cause.
Is this important? I’d argue it is, if for no other reason than because it is just too easy to fall into the trap of viewing history as a caricature. Also, it’s worth noting that the Fox family were the arch-rivals of the Tory Pitt family. So, even though Pitt the Elder came earlier, I think it’s fair to say that whenever the Patriots play the Steelers, their ancient enmity is in some sense revived.
1776, alas, doesn’t concern itself much with these kinds of political intrigues. McCullough is focused heavily on the military aspect, and specifically on George Washington. Which is fine. Washington is a cool guy.
But he wasn’t, at least in 1776, the most powerful man on the side of the United States. He was just the military commander in the field, and while he had perhaps the most important job for the future of the nation, he could not yet be said to be its leader. It was led by the Continental Congress which was, by most accounts, kind of a mess. Technically, the closest thing to an executive the government had at the time, the president of the Congress, was businessman and smuggler John Hancock.
It’s difficult to overemphasize just how much the shape of the whole project changed between 1776 and 1789. In some ways, you could argue it’s almost like the evolution of the French government between their revolution in 1789 and the Coup of 18 Brumaire in 1799. Or perhaps even more accurately, the evolution of the Roman government from the assassination of Julius Caesar in 44 BC to the rise of Octavian-Augustus as God-Emperor Princeps in 27 BC.
If there’s one thing we love here at Ruined Chapel, it’s finding surprising patterns across different periods in history. (If there are two things we love, it’s that plus Halloween. If there are three things we love, it’s obscure historical patterns, Halloween, and Natalie Portman movies. If there are four… but why am I telling you this? I didn’t expect the Spanish Inquisition!)
Anyway, all that I really am arguing is a rather pedantic point, which is that the United States was not actually founded in 1776, but in 1789. Now, of course, I have no problem with celebrating the 250th anniversary of the Declaration, which is very much an event worth recognizing. But are we prepared to do it all again in 13 years to celebrate the 250th anniversary of the original founding? What did they do in 1989, besides take down the Berlin Wall?
Will the United States still be around in recognizable form in 13 years? Sir John Glubb calculated that great superpowers only last for about 250 years, a fact which tinges some political commentary on this anniversary with a bit of apprehension.
Oh, well. Whatever happens, 1776 is a year worth remembering for the epic struggle between authority and liberty, for the risks run and sacrifices made, and the sheer human drama of it all. Despite what I said about Star Wars-ification, there are indeed heroes on both sides, and that fact is perhaps more salient than any esoteric arguments of political philosophy. And so, in reviewing it all, the words of William Makepeace Thackeray, as rendered by Stanley Kubrick, come back to me:
