History of the Flag Part 1
By Martin Link
Grand Union Jack
A country puts its dreams and ideals into symbols—a flag, a plot of sacred ground, a monument. Through the course of years of collective experiences, the people grow to love these symbols, fight for them, die for them! A symbol, and what it stands for, must stay together. They are indivisible. As we shall see, the United States flag did not spring fullblown into existence, but evolved and grew over the centuries, much as the nation it symbolizes—they are both a “Work in Progress.”
During the 17th century, Great Britain began to establish colonies along the Atlantic coast of North America. For centuries, England and Scotland had been at war with each other, but in 1707 they united, and along with Wales, formed the nation of Great Britain. Their flag combined the flag of England’s St. George, a red cross on a white field, and Scotland’s St. Andrew, a white diagonal cross on a blue background. It became known as the Grand Union Jack, and also flew over Britain’s 13 American colonies until 1776.
Betsy Ross The Continental Army, on the other hand, adopted a flag which was a clear representation of the connection between Great Britain and her former colonies. This flag was in general use throughout 1776 and the first half of 1777, and was referred to as the Grand Union flag, or the Continental Colors. In 1775 the simmering relations between the 13 colonies and Mother England finally boiled over into armed insurrection. On July 4, 1776, the Continental Congress declared independence from Great Britain. As the war escalated to epic proportions, a wide range of regional, state, and militia flags came into use, but there was no official national flag. On June 3, 1777, a petition was presented to Congress on behalf of the “Indian Nations,” probably the friendly Tuscarora and Oneida, for an American flag. To expedite matters, three
strings of wampum were included to cover the costs. The Indian Nation request may have spurred Congress to take action, for eleven days later, while enacting various Naval resolutions, Congress “Resolved that the flag of the United States be 13 stripes alternating red and white; that the union be 13 stars, white in a blue field, representing a new constellation.” There was no specific design for the stars and many variations appeared. Tradition has it that a seamstress by the name of Betsy Ross suggested the circle pattern, and converted the heraldic 6-pointed star into the simpler, more highly visible 5-pointed star, or molet.
I am the Flag of the United States of America. My name is “Old Glory.” I fly atop the world’s tallest buildings. I stand watch in America’s Halls of Justice. I fly majestically over the institutions of learning. I stand guard with power in the world. Look up at me and see me. I stand for peace, honor, truth and justice. I stand for freedom. I am confident. I am arrogant. I am proud. When I am flown with my fellow banners, my head is a little higher, my colors a little truer. I bow to no one! I am recognized all over the world. I am worshippedI am salutedI am lovedI am reveredI am respectedAnd I am feared. I have fought in every battle of every war for more than 200 years. I was flown at Valley Forge, Gettysburg, Shiloh and Appomattox. I was there at San Juan Hill, the trenches of France, in the Argonne Forest, Anzio, Rome and the beaches of Normandy, Guam, Okinawa, Korea and KheSan, Saigon, Vietnam. ME!! I WAS THERE!! I led troops, I was dirty, battle worn and tired, but my soldiers cheered me. AND I was proud. I have been burned, torn and trampled on the streets of countries I have helped set free. It does not hurt, for I am invincible. I have been soiled upon, burned, torn and trampled on the streets of my country. And when it’s by those whom I’ve served in battle-it hurts. But, I shall overcome—for I am strong. I have slipped the bonds of Earth and stood watch over the uncharted frontiers of space from my vantage point on the moon. I have borne silent witness to all of America’s finest hours. But my finest hours are yet to come. When I am torn into strips and used as bandages for my wounded comrades on the battlefield, when I am flown at half-mast to honor my soldier, or when I lie in the trembling arms of a grieving parent at the grave of their fallen son or daughter, I AM PROUD! MY NAME IS “OLD GLORY”—LONG MAY I WAVE. DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN, LONG MAY I WAVE
June 2019
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