The Virginians had managed to reach consensus on their resolutions in nine days; it would take the members of Congress—and the colonial legislatures of the colonies they represented—nearly a month to reach a similar decision. Discussion was postponed until the following day, Saturday. Once that discussion began, it lasted until seven in the evening, an unusual event in a body that normally adjourned by three or four in the afternoon. According to the notes on the debate made by Thomas Jefferson, who had only recently returned from an extended stay in Virginia, James Wilson, John Dickinson, Robert Livingston of New York and, in what must have been particularly annoying to John Adams, his frequent rival Edward Rutledge of South Carolina, led the opposition to Lee’s motion. Indeed, Rutledge was particularly upset about the precipitous nature of Lee’s resolution. Sitting down at ten that evening, he wrote John Jay, whom he knew would be a sympathetic listener, that the only reasoning behind the measure was that “of every Madman, a Shew of our Spirit.” According to Rutledge, he, and a majority of the other delegates in the Congress,
saw no Wisdom in a Declaration of Independence, nor any other Purpose to be answer’d by it, but placing ourselves in the Power of those with whom we mean to treat, giving our Enemy Notice of our Intentions before we had taken any Steps to execute them there by enabling them to counteract us in our Intentions & rendering ourselves ridiculous in the Eyes of foreign Powers by attempting to bring them into an Union with us before we had united with each other.13
Rutledge’s contemptuous dismissal of those favoring independence was perhaps even more off-target than the intolerance that delegates like John Adams displayed toward those who did not share their opinion on the subject. John Dickinson, the one person in the Congress whose cautious views toward independence still commanded some respect from the delegates, now spoke on that Saturday. He embarked on an extended analysis of why a premature declaration of independence, phrased in the unequivocal terms of Lee’s resolution, would not only compromise America’s leverage in dealing with foreign powers but also make it nearly impossible for America to achieve a “Reconciliation with Great Britain,” which Dickinson thought both likely and desirable “in a Year or two.” He pleaded, “Do not let Us turn our Backs on Reconciliation till We find it a Monster too dreadful to approach.” And, ignoring the impact of Tom Paine’s demolition of the very idea of an English constitution, Dickinson insisted that all of America’s actions up to that point had been based on the precepts of that constitution. To declare independence, he insisted, would amount to the dissolution of that noble instrument. While acknowledging that the time might come when that would prove necessary, he was adamant in his belief that that time had not yet come. And, indeed, if it should come, then the authority for discarding the English constitution and forming a new one was vested “in our Constituents, not in Us, [and] they have not given it to Us.”14
The arguments put forth that day by Dickinson and others opposing Lee’s resolution were filled with “what if’s.” If independence were declared without the formal authorization of the provincial legislatures that were up to that point resisting an outright authorization of that sort, then the delegates from those colonies would have to leave the Congress, and indeed, their colonies might well have to “secede from the Union.” And if that happened, would any foreign power agree to enter into an alliance with a group of divided colonies? And how could Americans trust the corrupt foreign nations of Europe in the first place? Was it not likely, for instance, that France and Spain, rather than give the colonies control over the North American continent, would either combine to strip Americans of “all of their . . . possessions” or, alternatively, ally themselves with Great Britain in partitioning America? None of these “what if’s” was implausible, and for that reason, they were, given the uncertainty in many delegates’ minds, unanswerable.15
The Virginia resolution produced the longest day of speeches yet, but, in the end, few minds were changed. It was clear that the push for independence had not yet received anywhere near the unanimity—or even strong consensus—of sentiment that was necessary if such a bold move were to succeed. Some—the delegates from Pennsylvania and Maryland—had been explicitly instructed not to support a resolution of the sort offered by Lee. Others—those from New York, New Jersey and Delaware—while not prohibited from supporting independence, believed they had to wait for some positive authorization from their legislatures. Still others were, in Jefferson’s words, “not ripe for bidding adieu to British connection.” When the Congress reconvened on Monday morning June 10, those opposing the resolution had their way for the moment. The Congress agreed, apparently without dissent, to postpone consideration of the first part of Lee’s resolution—that proposing independence—until July 1. But at the same time, in order “that no time be lost,” a committee would be appointed to prepare a declaration “to the effect of the said first resolution.” The following day the Congress, continuing to act as a committee of the whole, elected Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Roger Sherman and Robert Livingston to prepare that declaration. And it proposed the creation of two other committees, one to “prepare and digest the form of a confederation to be entered into between these colonies” and another “to prepare a plan of treaties to be proposed to foreign powers.” Those committees were constituted on June 12, with one representative from each colony to serve on the committee to draw up a plan for a confederation, and a committee consisting of John Dickinson, Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, Benjamin Harrison and Robert Morris to draw up drafts of potential treaties.16
All of the members of the committee to draft a declaration of independence, with the exception of Robert Livingston, were firm advocates of independence. It would have been not only inappropriate but also disruptive to put someone as vocally opposed to independence as John Dickinson on the committee. But Dickinson, in addition to serving on the committee charged with making drafts of treaties with foreign powers, was also elected to serve as Pennsylvania’s representative on the committee drawing up a proposed plan of confederation. Indeed, as the delegate receiving the most votes in the balloting for that committee, he was selected to serve as the committee’s chair and the lead draftsman of the proposal that would emerge from it. John Dickinson may have been playing defense on the question of independence, but he was in no way out of the game.17
The State of Play in the American Colonies
Even though Richard Henry Lee’s June 7 resolution put the question of independence squarely before the Congress, the members of that body remained entirely dependent on the authorizations of their respective legislatures as to how, or whether, they should respond to that resolution. From June 7 to July 2, the most important events were occurring not in the Assembly Room of the Pennsylvania State House, but in the colonial capitals of government, and in some cases, in the streets, of the thirteen North American colonies.
If Virginia had taken the lead in putting the question of independence on the table inside the Assembly Room of the State House, the actions of other colonies, counties and local committees would soon prove every bit as important as the eventual declaration by Congress itself. While the Continental Congress was gaining in authority as the body responsible for overseeing America’s military defense against Great Britain, it remained the servant, not the master, of the various colonial legislatures when it came to political decision making. And increasingly, the colonial legislatures themselves were learning that they were the servants, not the masters, of the people at large.
The legislature of North Carolina had been the first representative body in America to state unequivocally its commitment to independence. On April 12, nearly two months before Richard Henry Lee introduced Virginia’s resolution into the Continental Congress, the members of the North Carolina Provincial Congress, buoyed by the recent victory of their patriot militia over a loyalist army at Moore’s Creek Bridge, and supported by the fervor for independence among virtually all of their constituents, unanimously endor
sed the idea of independence. Concluding that “no hopes remain of obtaining a redress” of grievances from Great Britain, they “Resolved, That the delegates for this colony in the Continental Congress be empowered to concur with the delegates of the other Colonies in declaring Independency, and forming foreign alliances, reserving to this Colony the sole and exclusive right of forming a Constitution and laws for this Colony.” This resolution did not explicitly require North Carolina’s delegates to the Congress to vote for independence, but they were already sufficiently inclined in that direction to make it clear that they could be counted on to support independence.18
In early April 1776, the South Carolina Provincial Congress finally got around to adopting a new constitution—a step recommended to it by the Continental Congress back in November 1775. In so doing, it expressed its hope for “an accommodation with Great Britain,” adding in parentheses, “an event which, though traduced and treated as Rebels, we still earnestly desire.” At about that same time, the Congress “authorized and empowered” its delegates to the Continental Congress “to concert, agree to, and execute, every measure which they . . . , together with a majority of the Continental Congress, shall judge necessary for the defence, security, interest, or welfare of this colony in particular and of America in general.” That authorization was nowhere near as explicit as North Carolina’s endorsement of independence, and the state of mind of South Carolina’s delegates to the Continental Congress with respect to independence was far more divided than that of their neighbors to the north. But the South Carolina resolution, without mentioning the crucial word, had taken at least a step forward in authorizing its delegates to fall in line with the majority sentiment in the Continental Congress.19
On April 5, the Georgia legislature issued a set of instructions to its delegates essentially allowing them to use their own judgment with respect to the question of independence. Georgia had held elections for new delegates to the Congress on February 2, 1776, but it took until May 20, for the first two of those delegates, Button Gwinnett and Lyman Hall, to make it to Philadelphia, with a third, George Walton, arriving a few days before the final vote on independence. But with the arrival of Gwinnett and Hall, it seemed likely that the Georgia delegation, such as it was, could be counted on to support independence.20
On May 4, to the surprise of no one, the Rhode Island legislature passed a set of resolutions formally terminating British authority over the colony and proclaiming that in the future the issuing of legal documents from the colony would be done in the name of “the Governor and Company of the English Colony in Rhode Island and Providence Plantations,” and not in the name of the king. At the same time it issued instructions to its representatives to the Continental Congress authorizing them to support independence, although, pointedly, the legislature did not use that word in its authorization. As they were debating their rejection of all royal authority, the Rhode Island legislators also discussed whether to poll their citizens on the subject but decided against doing so, in part for logistical reasons, but in part too, according to Rhode Island Governor Nicholas Cole, because “although a very great majority of the Colony were perfectly ripe for such a question, yet, upon its being canvassed, several towns would vote against it,” creating an “appearance of disunion [that] would be injurious to the common cause.” And the very word “independence,” the governor feared, might frighten “many honest and ignorant people” into believing they were committing themselves to “eternal warfare.” So, even in supposedly “radical” Rhode Island, the decision to support independence was neither an easy nor an uncontested one.21
Even in Virginia—within both the Virginia Provincial Convention and the colony’s congressional delegation—there were murmurings of dissent. On April 20, Richard Henry Lee had written to Patrick Henry urging him to get Virginia to take the lead in rousing America “from the fatal lethargy into which the feebleness, folly, and interested views of the Proprietary governments [Maryland and Pennsylvania], with the aid of Tory machinations, have thrown her most unhappily.” Henry, who was proving to be a much more effective political force in the Virginia Provincial Convention than he had been in the Continental Congress, swung into action, working overtime to get the near unanimous vote favoring the May 15 resolution for independence (only Robert Carter Nicholas had abstained, but he also promised to “rise and fall” with the patriot cause). But within Virginia’s delegation to the Continental Congress, at least one individual, Carter Braxton, continued to work with moderates from other colonies to forestall independence.22
Interestingly, the people of Massachusetts were slow to take the formal step of instructing their delegates to support independence. Although Massachusetts was widely seen as the driving force behind independence, in reality, by the end of 1775, the colony’s delegation to the Congress found itself bitterly divided on ideological and personal issues. Much to the chagrin of John and Sam Adams, both Thomas Cushing and Robert Treat Paine dragged their feet on independence, in part because they were not as convinced as the Adamses that the towns of Massachusetts were uniformly in favor of such a step. And the Adamses were distinctly suspicious of John Hancock. They had never forgiven him for not having relinquished the presidency of the Congress on the return of Peyton Randolph, while Hancock’s animosity toward the Adamses had increased after they had supported Washington over him as commander of the Continental Army. And so they may have sought to replace all three. When members of the Massachusetts General Court, the colony’s provincial legislature, voted for new delegates to the Continental Congress on December 15, 1775, the Adamses’ supporters succeeded in replacing Cushing with Elbridge Gerry, but they failed to replace Paine and Hancock, who still had enough support in their legislature to retain their positions. Cushing, who was bitterly disappointed by his rejection, wasted no time in telling Hancock that “you as well as myself had been placed in a disagreeable light and measures taken to hurt our Influence.” He went on to say to Hancock that he was “well acquainted” with the “names & characters” of those who were, “by their little, low, Dirty & sly Insinuating Actes & Machinations,” responsible for the move to oust them.23
With the addition of Elbridge Gerry, a majority of the Massachusetts delegates to the Congress now favored independence, but they were unable to persuade the General Court to aid them in their cause. In late March, Gerry wrote to James Warren, who had served in the Massachusetts legislature since the time of the Stamp Act crisis, urging him to “originate instructions . . . in favor of independence” in the legislature. But the legislature continued to procrastinate, at least in part because support for independence in some of the colony’s towns was not as great as the Adamses believed it to be and as Cushing and Paine well knew. James Warren, perhaps feeling a little defensive after receiving numerous letters from both Sam and John Adams complaining about the legislature’s inaction, was left merely to shrug it all off, telling his correspondents that their fellow Massachusetts politicians had gotten too bogged down in petty issues to concern themselves with “the grand question.” In fact, the Massachusetts General Court never got around to formally endorsing independence until after independence had been formally declared.24
On June 14, the Connecticut legislature, apparently unaware that the Virginia Convention had already instructed its delegates to introduce a resolution for independence into the Congress, instructed its delegates to propose that the Congress “declare the United American Colonies free and independent states.” New Hampshire’s two delegates to the Continental Congress, Josiah Bartlett and William Whipple, when they learned on May 28 that the Virginia Convention had asked its delegates to introduce a resolution for independence into the Congress, immediately wrote to their colleagues back home asking them to endorse that move. On June 15, the New Hampshire House of Representatives instructed its delegates to Congress “to join with the other Colonies in Declaring The Thirteen United Colonies, A Free & Independent State.”25
Whatever the procrastina
tion and infighting in Massachusetts, it was clear to all that the New England colonies were on board with the move for independence. And although the state of mind of at least some of the South Carolina delegates remained uncertain, the other colonies from Virginia southward were of a similar mind. Which left the two proprietary colonies—Pennsylvania and Maryland—and New Jersey, Delaware and, perhaps most problematic, New York, in the undecided column.
John Dickinson was fighting a battle for control on two fronts, in the Congress and in his own legislature one floor above in the State House. As we have seen, on June 6 Dickinson drafted a revision of the Pennsylvania Assembly’s earlier instructions prohibiting its delegates to the Continental Congress from supporting independence. Dickinson’s draft, while stopping well short of authorizing independence, did give the delegates the power to take any necessary steps “for promoting the Liberty, Safety, and Interests of America.” Perhaps Dickinson believed that this would buy him and his moderate colleagues in the legislature some time to continue their efforts at reconciliation. But time was running out, for events in the legislature and out of doors were unfolding rapidly. Although Dickinson was successful in persuading the Pennsylvania legislature to adopt his revised set of instructions on June 8, the radicals in the legislature, still in a minority but buoyed by their support from ordinary Philadelphians, were doing everything possible to delegitimize the legislature itself.
Responding to the demand in the May 20 town meeting, moderates in the legislature, still in a bare majority in that body, attempted to arrange for a constitutional convention to be called under the Assembly’s authority. It was a move, they hoped, that would place them in control of the framing of a new constitution. But radicals in the Assembly blocked the move by absenting themselves from the chamber, thus preventing the proposal from being passed because of the lack of a necessary quorum.
Our Lives, Our Fortunes and Our Sacred Honor Page 43
