"...Our Lives, Our Fortunes, and Our Sacred Honor..."
In remembrance of those brave souls who risked it all
because they believed in their cause. God bless them.
And... God Bless The United States Of America!
______________________________________________________
Jewish World Review July 3, 2000 /30 Sivan, 5760
jewishworldreview.com
JWR Insight
Jeff Jacoby
'Our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor'
ON JULY 2, 1776, the Continental Congress
voted 12-0 -- New York abstained -- in favor of
Richard Henry Lee's resolution "that these United
Colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and
independent States." On July 4, the Declaration of
Independence drafted by Thomas Jefferson -- and
heavily edited by Congress -- was adopted
without dissent. On July 8, the Declaration was
publicly proclaimed in Philadelphia. On July 9, it
was recited before General Washington and his
troops in New York City. On July 15, Congress
learned that the New York legislature had decided
to endorse the Declaration.
On August 2, a parchment copy was presented to
the Congress for signature. Most of the 56 men
who put their name to the document did so that
day.
And then?
We tend to forget that to sign the Declaration of
Independence was to commit an act of treason --
and the punishment for treason was death. To
publicly accuse George III of "repeated injuries
and usurpations," to announce that Americans
were therefore "Absolved from all Allegiance to
the British Crown," was a move fraught with
danger -- so much so that the names of the signers
were kept secret for six months.
They were risking everything, and they knew it.
That is the meaning of the Declaration's last
sentence:
"And for the support of this Declaration, with a
firm Reliance on the Protection of divine
Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our
Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor."
Most of the signers survived the war; several went
on to illustrious careers. Two of them became
presidents of the United States, and among the
others were future vice presidents, senators, and
governors. But not all were so fortunate.
Nine of the 56 died during the Revolution, and never tasted American
independence.
Five were captured by the British.
Eighteen had their homes -- great estates, some of them -- looted or
burnt by the enemy. Some lost everything they owned.
Two were wounded in battle. Two others were the fathers of sons killed
or captured during the war.
"Our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor." It was not just a
rhetorical flourish.
We all recognize John Hancock's signature, but who ever notices the
names beneath his? William Ellery, Thomas Nelson, Richard Stockton,
Button Gwinnett, Francis Lewis -- to most of us, these are names without
meaning. But each represents a real human being, some of whom paid
dearly "for the support of this Declaration" and American independence.
Lewis Morris of New York, for example, must have known when he
signed the Declaration that he was signing away his fortune. Within
weeks, the British ravaged his estate, destroyed his vast woodlands,
butchered his cattle, and sent his family fleeing for their lives.
Another New Yorker, William Floyd, was also forced to flee when the
British plundered his property. He and his family lived as refugees for
seven years without income. The strain told on his wife; she died two
years before the war ended.
Carter Braxton of Virginia, an aristocratic planter who had invested
heavily in shipping, saw most of his vessels captured by the British navy.
His estates were largely ruined, and by the end of his life he was a
pauper.
The home of William Ellery, a Rhode Island delegate, was burned to the
ground during the occupation of Newport.
Thomas Heyward Jr., Edward Rutledge, and Arthur Middleton, three
members of the South Carolina delegation, all suffered the destruction or
vandalizing of their homes at the hands of enemy troops. All three were
captured when Charleston fell in 1780, and spent a year in a British
prison.
"Our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor."
Thomas Nelson Jr. of Virginia raised $2 million for the patriots' cause on
his own personal credit. The government never reimbursed him, and
repaying the loans wiped out his entire estate. During the battle of
Yorktown, his house, which had been seized by the British, was
occupied by General Cornwallis. Nelson quietly urged the gunners to fire
on his own home. They did so, destroying it. He was never again a man
of wealth. He died bankrupt and was buried in an unmarked grave.
Richard Stockton, a judge on New Jersey's supreme court, was
betrayed by loyalist neighbors. He was dragged from his bed and thrown
in prison, where he was brutally beaten and starved. His lands were
devastated, his horses stolen, his library burnt. He was freed in 1777, but
his health had so deteriorated that he died within five years. His family
lived on charity for the rest of their lives.
In the British assault on New York, Francis Lewis's home and property
were pillaged. His wife was captured and imprisoned; so harshly was she
treated that she died soon after her release. Lewis was never the same
man thereafter and spent the remainder of his days in relative poverty.
And then there was John Hart. The speaker of the New Jersey
Assembly, he was forced to flee in the winter of 1776, at the age of 65,
from his dying wife's bedside. While he hid in forests and caves, his home
was demolished, his fields and mill laid waste, and his 13 children put to
flight. When it was finally safe for him to return, he found his wife dead,
his children missing, and his property decimated. He never saw any of his
family again and died, a shattered man, in 1779.
The men who signed that piece of parchment in 1776 were the elite of
their colonies. They were men of means and social standing, but for the
sake of liberty, they pledged it all -- their lives, their fortunes, and their
sacred honor.
We are in their debt to this day.
© 2000, Jeff Jacoby
Jeff Jacoby is a columnist for The Boston Globe.
_________________________________________________________________
jewishworldreview.com |
