WHEN WASHINGTON WENT TO CAMBRIDGE
Washington, chosen commander-in-chief, set out on June 21, 1775, on
his eleven-days' ride to Boston. From Philadelphia to New York he was
escorted by the Philadelphia Light Horse Troop. It was an escort worth
having. Their uniform was "a dark brown short coat, faced and lined
with white; high-topped boots; round black hat, bound with silver
cord; a buck's tail, saddlecloths brown edged with white, and the
letters 'L.H.' worked on them. Their arms were a carbine, a pair of
pistols and holsters; a horseman's sword; white belts for the sword
and carbine." Officers of the militia, the Massachusetts members of
the Continental Congress, and many others were also of the company.
The horses pranced, the music played, and the cavalcade started from
the Quaker City for the war that was to make the country free. The
flag that was borne before them is now carefully preserved between two
heavy plates of glass, and is kept in the Troop's armory, in a
fireproof safe made expressly for that purpose. The banner is only
forty inches long, but its richness makes up for its lack of size. It
is of yellow silk with heavy silver fringe. Around the flag is a
graceful running vine. The crest is a horse's head. In the center are
figures representing Fame and Liberty. Under them is the motto, "For
these we strive." Some verses written many years ago say of this flag:--
"For these we strive; what brighter name
Can man achieve or beauty see,
Than worth to share his country's FAME,
Or perish for her LIBERTY?"
It is a precious relic for its associations, and still more precious
because the canton is made of thirteen stripes, blue and silver
alternating. Apparently these stand for the thirteen colonies, and so
far as is known, this was the first time that the colonies were
represented, as on our flag of to-day, by thirteen stripes.
Before Washington and his escort reached New York, couriers reported
the battle of Bunker Hill. Washington pushed on, and July 2, he had
his first glimpse of his forces. It must have been a discouraging
glimpse. A few wore uniforms, but most of the men had come in "what
they had." The men of a few companies were provided with tents, others
slept in the halls of Harvard College, in the pews of the Episcopal
Church, or in private houses. Still others had built their own huts,
of boards, turf, sailcloth, stones, or brush. Powder and artillery
were scanty, and the commander-in-chief had been furnished with no
money. Perhaps this was not so remarkable, however, for the members of
the Continental Congress had no power to collect taxes, and in reality
had no control over any money except what was in their own pockets.
Officers and men chatted together as freely as if in their own homes;
and if an order did not impress a man as being wise, he sometimes
stopped and patiently explained to the officer why he thought another
course was better.
Twelve of the most independent companies, and yet the most vigilant
and best disciplined of all, were composed of backwoodsmen who had
come on foot from four to eight hundred miles. A little later, five
Indians came to Cambridge to help fight for liberty. They were
welcomed cordially and entered the service. It is probable that every
little company marched to Cambridge under its own colors, but of
course there was no flag representing the colonies as a whole.
Immediately after the battle of Bunker Hill, Major-General Israel
Putnam took up his stand on Prospect Hill. One month later he called
together all the troops under his command, and read them the statement
issued by the Continental Congress which declared just why the
colonies had had recourse to arms. The chaplain made an address and a
prayer, at the end of which the troops responded, "Amen." Then there
was unfurled a scarlet standard, which it is said John Hancock had
just presented to General Putnam and his men in recognition of their
bravery at Bunker Hill. Tradition says this standard bore on one side
the motto of Connecticut, "Qui transtulit sustinet," and on the other
a pine tree and the motto of Massachusetts, "An Appeal to Heaven."
It is a little strange that the Massachusetts colonists did not put
the likeness of an elm on any of their banners, for so much of their
history was associated with the "Liberty Elm." A few flags on both
land and sea were inscribed "Liberty Tree," but no exercise of the
imagination can make the pictured tree look in the least like an elm.
Under the Liberty Elm of Boston the meetings of the Sons of Liberty
were held, as has been said, and here it was that the resolutions were
adopted which resulted in dropping three hundred and forty chests of
tea into Boston Harbor. The Liberty Tree of Charleston, South
Carolina, was a beautiful live-oak. It is said that under this tree
Christopher Gadsden, even before the Stamp Act, ventured to speak of
the possible independence of the colonies. Here, as in Boston, the
patriots came together to discuss the way to liberty, and with hand
clasped in hand solemnly promised that when the hour for resistence
should come, they would not be found unready. There is something
refreshing in the thought of all the free, open-air discussion that
went on under the Liberty Trees. There was no stifling of thought in
closed rooms with bolted doors. Every new idea, daring as it might be,
was blown upon by the free winds of heaven. Naturally, the British
commanders hated these trees and thoroughly enjoyed destroying them
whenever they had opportunity. The Boston tree was cut down even
before the battle of Lexington. In 1780 Sir Henry Clinton cut down the
live-oak in Charleston, piled its severed branches over the stump, and
set fire to them. Even the iron-girt Liberty Pole of New York was cut
down by the red coats in 1776. It is little wonder that Thomas Paine's
poem on the "Liberty Tree" was so roundly applauded. This closes:--
"But hear, O ye swains,--'tis a tale most profane,
How all the tyrannical powers,
Kings, Commons, and Lords, are uniting amain,
To cut down this guardian of ours.
From the East to the West, blow the trumpet to arms,
Through the land let the sound of it flee,
Let the far and the near all unite with a cheer,
In defense of our Liberty Tree."