Madness, it seemed.
Madness it was.
But there was no other way.
Shots had been fired. Previous petitions fell on deaf ears. Soldiers shadows loomed across cobblestone streets. Pointed bayonets enforced theft from a distant tyrant so far away.
"We hold these truths to be self -evident..."
The 56 delegates had mixed reactions. To little more than a simple document. A piece of paper that if one signed could certainly be a death warrant.
What were they doing? England was the worlds largest imperial power. They had veteran professional soldiers, they had the worlds largest navy, they had the resources to crush this tiny rebellion. Only a third of the population of the North American mainland colonies supported this insurrection anyway.
The colonials had no money. They had no foundries or factories for the manufacture of weapons. Any army they could muster would mainly consist of poor farmers, twenty to forty years old, sacrificing all for the sake of what? Of what?
An idea.
An idea whose time had come.
We had the ability to rule ourselves.
A notion that some might call...
Madness.
Maybe, but the truth was that this document spoke of ideas that burned and actions that had begun as hushed whispers as early as 1763 to defiant yells and shots fired by 1775.
President of the Congress, John Hancock rose. His defiant hand traced a signature so flamboyant in its exaggerated size so that the King of England could read it without his glasses. Good story, but the real truth was that he saw the trembling hands of some of the delegates. He knew he had to show bravado. Delegates for signing were carefully chosen. Full supporters would be first, leading to the more lukewarm, and finishing with the frightened. Men like Thomas Willing and Charles Humpreys of Pennsylvania voted against it. New York and delegate John Dickinson abstained from their vote. Regardless of this, the necessary votes gave birth to a new nation.
Based on nothing...
but an idea.
Madness.
We had to endure the pains of childbirth. Years of protracted war ensued. Patriots carried the fight against British soldiers but fellow colonials as well. Those who thought the idea of the revolution madness.
The price for signing? For some it cost everything. Iron manufacturer George Taylor had all of his property confiscated by the British. He died impoverished in 1781. William Floyd lost all of his property as well. John Heart of New Jersey had his mills, crops and livestock slaughtered by British troops forcing him to go on the run. Sleeping in caves and dog kennels, he died in 1778. Lyman Hall who had moved to Georgia and operated a rice plantation lost all, but at least he was not like fellow signers Arthur Muddleton and Edward Rutledge. They were captured by the British in 1780 and and placed in the hell of a British prison ship in Florida. Though eventually released, they found that much of their property that had not been destroyed had been confiscated. Richard Stockton of New Jersey in the process of making sure his family was safely evacuated first, was captured by the British and placed in irons. His estate was ransacked, livestock slaughtered, library burned, and then his quarters became the headquarters for British General Cornwallis. Though paroled in 1777, his health had been broken by his imprisonment. He died in 1781.
All was given for a nothing...
that was everything.
An idea.
Beautiful...
Glorious...
Madness.
Happy Birthday to the idea whose time has come! Happy Birthday America!
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