“Boston was quiet & no hurt done”

On 8 Sept 1774, two days after the men at the First Continental Congress heard dire reports about the Crown military attacking Boston, accurate information arrived in Philadelphia.

The army had not killed half a dozen civilians. The navy had not bombarded the town. In fact, over two tense days nobody had been hurt at all.

Robert Treat Paine recorded the new news in his diary:

By the Post came advice from N. York that a person had arrived from Boston & Newport since the time Supposed in [Israel] Putnams Letters & that Boston was quiet & no hurt done.

John Adams did likewise, characteristically with more emotion:

The happy News was bro’t us, from Boston, that no Blood had been spill’d but that Gen. [Thomas] Gage had taken away the Provincial Powder from the Magazine at Cambridge [sic]. This last was a disagreable Circumstance.

Roger Sherman of Connecticut wrote the next day:

We were Alarmed a few Days ago with a report that Boston was fired upon by the Land and Sea forces, but it has been Since Contradicted.

Also on 9 September, Caesar Rodney of Delaware wrote about news from Massachusetts: ”A letter to Mr. [Thomas] Cushing by Express from Boston informs that all is Quiet as Yet…” He went on to discuss other forms of resistance snarling up the Suffolk County court sessions and mandamus Council.

People in the eighteenth century were used to hearing false reports and contradictory information to sort out. They knew that news could take days and weeks to travel, and be garbled along the way. They must have been used to rethinking how they understood distant events based on new facts.

Nonetheless, those reports of the British military attacking Boston must have tinged how the delegates at this Continental Congress viewed the ongoing dispute with the Crown. The news arrived just as those men were getting acquainted and setting out the rules for their body.

On 6 September, the same day that the false rumors prompted the Congress to adjourn early, Samuel Adams was proposing that the Rev. Jacob Duché, an Anglican, lead the body in prayer. As I wrote way back here, that “masterly stroke of policy” helped allay worries that the New Englanders were all religious bigots who would drag the whole continent into an unnecessary fight. And now Adams’s home town was under attack?

Philadelphians began to ring their church bells “muffled” in mourning for the Boston dead. According to Silas Deane, Christopher Gadsden (shown above) of South Carolina was “for taking up his Firelock, & marching direct to Boston.” John Adams wrote, “Every Gentleman seems to consider the Bombardment of Boston, as the Bombardment, of the Capital of his own Province.”

Then came the better news. Deane reported, “The Bells of the City are now ringing a peal of Joy on Acct. of the News of Boston’s having been destroy’d being contradicted.” The Congress didn’t have to consider military matters after all. At least, not right away. But for a couple of days, the delegates had faced the possibility of a war against the imperial government. Could their actions keep that from happening, or did they need to prepare for it—or was it possible to do both?

The Board of War and Ordnance’s Rattlesnake

Another place we see snake symbolism in Revolutionary America is the seal of the Continental Congress’s board of war and ordnance, adopted in 1778.

We don’t know who designed this emblem, but I imagine the conversation went something like this.

“All right, gentlemen, as you asked, I added the breastplate and the Liberty Cap to pile of weapons and the drum and the flags. So this is the final, right?”

“Yes, that’s good, but we had another idea!”

“Of course you did.”

“We want to add a snake!”

“A snake.”

“A rattlesnake! Like on those Pennsylvania militia drums, and that flag Mr. Gadsden brought.”

“If I added a rattlesnake to that pile, wouldn’t that look like no one in his right mind would try to pick up those weapons? Isn’t that the wrong message for a Board of War and Ordnance?”

“The rattlesnake doesn’t have to be on the weapons. It could be somewhere else.”

“There isn’t really room—”

“Oh, we’re sure you could fit it in somewhere.”

And the resulting design, complete with flying rattlesnake, is still in use by the Department of the U.S. Army today.

It’s not always clear in modern versions of this seal that the snake is a rattler. However, as this Revolutionary War document bearing the seal shows, the rattles were originally distinct. They probably numbered thirteen.

Investigating the Meaning of the Gadsden Flag

A government agency’s report from a couple of months ago is just now being spread around the web, thanks to law professor Eugene Volokh’s column about it in the Washington Post.

The Volokh article is headlined “Wearing ‘Don’t Tread on Me’ insignia could be punishable racial harassment.” Some right-wing websites echoing that story skipped the “could be” and leapt right to misinforming readers that a government agency had ruled “Don’t Tread on Me” racist.

In addition, some people commenting on those stories assume that a federal authority has ruled that the Gadsden Flag and associated “Don’t Tread on Me” slogan are racist because of their roots in the slave society of Revolutionary America. That shows they didn’t read the ruling or Volokh’s column.

The anonymous employee who filed a complaint with the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission did make that claim:

Complainant stated that he found the cap to be racially offensive to African Americans because the flag was designed by Christopher Gadsden, a “slave trader & owner of slaves.”

The historic claims are correct. In 1774 more than ninety men, women, and children were enslaved on Gadsden’s two rice plantations. He paid Customs duties on the cargo of at least two slave ships, in 1755 and 1762.

Furthermore, Gadsden’s South Carolina was a society built on slavery. At the time of the Revolution, historians estimate that more than half of its human population was enslaved. Because the British military freed and evacuated so many people, that fraction went down by the 1790 census, but South Carolina still had a larger percentage of its population in bondage than any other state. By the early 1800s through the Civil War, the state’s population was once again mostly enslaved.

However, the E.E.O.C. rejected the claim that the Gadsden Flag is offensive because of its historical origin:

After a thorough review of the record, it is clear that the Gadsden Flag originated in the Revolutionary War in a non-racial context. Moreover, it is clear that the flag and its slogan have been used to express various non-racial sentiments, such as when it is used in the modern Tea Party political movement, guns rights activism, patriotic displays, and by the military.

In doing so, the E.E.O.C. also confirmed that “the modern Tea Party political movement” expresses “various non-racial sentiments” through the flag, which looks like a tacit rejection of the complaint’s suggestion that the Tea Party is an expression of “white resentment against blacks.”

The potential problem with the Gadsden flag, the E.E.O.C. ruling said, lies not in its past but in the way it’s being used today:

However, whatever the historic origins and meaning of the symbol, it also has since been sometimes interpreted to convey racially-tinged messages in some contexts. For example, in June 2014, assailants with connections to white supremacist groups draped the bodies of two murdered police officers with the Gadsden flag during their Las Vegas, Nevada shooting spree.

One hopes that fans of the Gadsden Flag loudly decried how those terrorists used it.

We know that a respectable symbol can become a threat, an insult, and socially anathema after a destructive movement seizes on it. We don’t see swastikas as design elements anymore. (The Las Vegas killers also left swastikas on the bodies of their victims.) Was it reasonable to think that had happened with the Gadsden Flag when this complain was filed?

Chronology works against that argument. The complaint was made to the E.E.O.C. in January 2014. The dispute over a Gadsden Flag in the New Haven Fire Department, which the complaint and ruling seem to refer to (inaccurately mentioning a flagpole), became public in February of that year. The Las Vegas killings occurred in June. In other words, the specified evidence of the Gadsden flag’s racist meaning didn’t exist during the period covered by the complaint.

Of course, there’s another way to look at that sequence of events. The employee might feel that the Las Vegas murders were tragic confirmation of what he’d already sensed based on previous evidence—the racists had adopted the Gadsden Flag and tainted it with their ideology. But the complaint would need to present that evidence.

Finally, it’s important to recognize that the E.E.O.C. has not ruled on whether that perception of the Gadsden Flag has merit. Instead, it concluded:

In light of the ambiguity in the current meaning of this symbol, we find that Complainant’s claim must be investigated to determine the specific context in which C1 [another employee] displayed the symbol in the workplace. In so finding, we are not prejudging the merits of Complainant’s complaint. Instead, we are precluding a procedural dismissal that would deprive us of evidence that would illuminate the meaning conveyed by C1’s display of the symbol.

Volokh, who has long argued that workplace harassment laws impinge on free speech, presented this conclusion as ominous. Many political websites picked up on that argument without acknowledging what the E.E.O.C. actually decided—to investigate further.