As Americans, we are all keenly aware that our nation celebrates its birthday this coming Thursday. Flags will fly in abundance throughout our vast nation in celebration. While we all salute it with pride, the actual origins of our cherished banner of liberty are still debated by historians. Many, inclusive of both scholars and common flag aficionados, still believe that it was Betsy Ross who crafted our first visual symbol of who and what we are as a country. Be it totally factual or partially myth, Betsy Ross’s story remains, as William Bennett described it, “one of our most beloved portraits of the patriotic citizen ready to do his or her part.”
As Independence Day approaches, I think it fitting that the inspiration of Betsy Ross be the focal point of this week’s message:
In 1752 the eighth child was born to the Quaker family of Griscom in Philadelphia, and was named Elizabeth. Nine other children came after her, so with a total of sixteen brothers and sisters you may be assured that she never had much opportunity to be lonely. Perhaps the large number of siblings is the explanation for her being apprenticed at Webster’s, the leading upholstery establishment in the city. There Elizabeth became acquainted with John Ross, one of her fellow apprentices. Their friendship grew into love, and when she turned twenty-one they were married.
Soon afterward they left Webster’s and opened a little upholstery shop of their own, in a two-story house on Arch Street—a quaint little house that was old then, for it was built of bricks that came over to America as ballast in one of William Penn’s vessels. The building is still standing today, in a good state of preservation, and very little has changed from the old days, with its wide doors, big cupboard, narrow stairs, and tiny windowpanes. The front room was the shop, where Elizabeth and John waited on customers.
The happiness of the Ross family was not destined to endure for long. Discord against England was awakening among the colonists, and with it the spirit of resistance to the demands of the mother country. In common with many patriotic women, Betsy Ross saw her husband march away from home volunteering for military service. With several other volunteers, John was guarding a store of munitions on one of Philadelphia’s wharves along the Delaware River when there was an explosion and John was seriously injured. He died in January, 1776, despite the dedicated nursing efforts on the part of his young wife.
Betsy Ross was now a widow at the age of only twenty-four. Much like the sentiments of those trying to forge a new nation, Betsy was determined to maintain herself independently. She continued to run the upholstery business that she and John had developed together. About five months after her husband’s death as she was working in the shop, three gentlemen called upon her.
The first was General George Washington who had recently arrived in Philadelphia to consult with the Continental Congress. Betsy had frequently seen Washington, for he had visited her shop more than once, to have her embroider ruffles for his shirts. Accompanying the General was Robert Morris, who would go down in history as the treasurer and financier of the Revolution, and, lastly, her husband’s uncle, Colonel George Ross, a signer of the Declaration of Independence.
These gentlemen had come to consult with Betsy. She already knew how the various banners carried by troops from the different colonies, as well as by different regiments, had caused confusion to commanders in battle and danger to their men. The time had come to do away with the pine tree flag, the beaver flag, the rattlesnake flag, the hope flag, the silver crescent flag, the anchor flag, the liberty tree flag, and all the others currently in use, and have, instead, a single standard for the American army. Betsy had also heard of the of the Cambridge flag, often called the grand union flag, which General Washington had raised the New Year’s Day before. That flag, half English and half American, featured thirteen red and white stripes and the crosses of St. George and St. Andrew. But events had moved rapidly since New Year’s Day and now the desire for separation from England had grown widespread. A new flag was needed, not only for logistical reasons in battle, but, as importantly, to encapsulate the growing spirit of America’s desire for liberty which would reach its zenith with the publication of the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1776, which was less than a month away.
All of this Betsy knew, as a devoted patriot would. So, she could not have been greatly surprised when General Washington informed her that they had come to consult with her about a national flag.
“Can you make a flag?” Washington inquired.
Modestly and with some diffidence she replied, “I don’t know, Sir, but I can try.”
Then in Betsy’s little back parlor upholstery shop, Washington showed her a rough sketch he had composed. It was a square flag with thirteen stripes of red and white and with thirteen stars on the blue canton. He asked her opinion of the design. With unerring accuracy of eye she saw at once what was needed to make the flag more beautiful. She suggested that the proportions be changed, so that the length would be a third more than the width. She also proposed that the thirteen stars be grouped to form some design such as a circle or a star, or place in parallel rows. Lastly, she remarked that a five pointed star would be more symmetrical than one with six points.
“But,” asked Washington, “won’t that be much more difficult to make?”
In answer, Betsy took up a piece of paper and folded it over. With one clip of her scissors, she cleverly made a perfect star with five even points.
That was all it took to convince the General. Washington pulled up his chair to the table and made another pencil sketch, this time embodying all of Betsy’s suggestions. The second sketch was copied and colored by a Philadelphia artist, William Barrett, a painter of some note, who returned it to Mistress Ross. Meantime, not knowing just how to make a flag, for it must be sewed in a particular way, Betsy visited a shipping merchant who was a friend of Robert Morris. From the captain she borrowed one of his ship’s flags to use as a guide.
And in this way, Betsy Ross made the first Stars and Stripes. To measure its effect, the story goes, the new banner was run up to the peak of a vessel moored in the Delaware River where it drew a large crowd of enthusiastic admirers. Several months later, the Continental Congress passed a resolution formally adopting the flag as our national standard.
This is the story that Betsy Ross told over and over, to her daughters and grandchildren, and in later years they wrote it down for posterity. It was George Washington, more than anyone else, who seems to have been most interested in creating a national flag, but it took the skilled seamstress to whom he took his first roughly drafted design seeking her opinion, to produce it. Undoubtedly, much of the credit for the beauty of Old Glory is due to the keen eye, confident hand and the ready heart of a patriot possessed and graciously given by Elizabeth “Betsy” Ross.
– This tale of Betsy Ross was adapted from a story authored by Grace Humphrey
I’d like to be the sort of man
the flag could boast about;
I’d like to be the sort of man
it cannot live without;
I’d like to be the type of man
That really is American:
The head-erect and shoulders-square,
Clean-minded fellow, just and fair,
That all men picture when they see
The glorious banner of the free.
I’d like to be the sort of man
the flag now typifies,
The kind of man we really want
the flag to symbolize;
The loyal brother to a trust,
The big, unselfish soul and just,
The friend of every man oppressed,
The strong support of all that’s best,
The sturdy chap the banner’s meant,
Where’er it flies, to represent.
I’d like to be the sort of man
the flag’s supposed to mean,
The man that all in fancy see
wherever it is seen,
The chap that’s ready for a fight
Whenever there’s a wrong to right,
The friend in every time of need,
The doer of the daring deed,
The clean and generous handed man
That is a real American.
– Poem by Edgar Albert Guest
Have an AWE-full Fourth of July Holiday!
William “Bill” Bacque