CHAPTER I

THE FLAGS THAT BROUGHT THE COLONISTS

More than three hundred years ago a little sailing vessel set out from Holland, crossed the Atlantic Ocean, and followed down our coast from Greenland. Its captain, Henry Hudson, was in search of a quick and easy route to Asia, and when he entered the mouth of the river that is named for him, he hoped that he had found a strait leading to the Asiatic coast. He was disappointed in this, but the Indians welcomed him, the mountains were rich in forests, and the ground was fertile. "It is the most beautiful land in all the world," declared the enthusiastic navigator.

Henry Hudson was an Englishman, but he sailed in the employ of the Dutch East India Company, and soon the flag of this Company was well known along the Hudson River. It was the old flag of Holland, three horizontal stripes, of orange, white, and blue, with the initials of the Company on the white stripe. Hudson had not found a new route to Asia, but he had opened the way for the fur-trade. In a few years the Dutch had established trading-posts as far north as Albany. They had also founded a city which we call "New York," but which they named "New Amsterdam." So it was that in 1609 the Dutch flag first came to the New World.

Nearly thirty years after the voyage of Henry Hudson, a company of Swedes made a settlement on the Delaware River. This had been planned by the great Gustavus Adolphus, King of Sweden. "That colony will be the jewel of my kingdom," he said; but the "Lion of the North" was slain in battle, and his twelve-year-old daughter Christina had become queen. That is why the loyal Swedes named their little fortification Fort Christiana, and over it they raised the flag of their country, a blue banner with a yellow cross.

In course of time the Swedes were overpowered by the Dutch, and then the Dutch by the English; so that before many years had passed, the only flag that floated over the "Old Thirteen" colonies was that of England. This was brought across the sea by the settlers of our first English colony, Jamestown, in Virginia. Moreover, they had the honor of sailing away from England in all the glories of a brand-new flag made in a brand-new design. The flag of England had been white with a red upright cross known as "St. George's Cross"; but a new king, James I, had come to the throne, and the flag as well as many other things had met with a change. James was King of Scotland by birth, and the Scotch flag was blue with the white diagonal cross of St. Andrew. When James became King of England, he united the two flags by placing on a blue background the upright cross of St. George over the diagonal cross of St. Andrew; and he was so well pleased with the result that he commanded every English vessel to bear in its maintop this flag, "joined together according to the form made by our own heralds," the King declared with satisfaction. It was the custom at that time to call "ancient" whatever was not perfectly new, and therefore the flag used before James became king was spoken of as the "ancient flag," while the new one became the "King's Flag" or the "Union Jack." This change was made in the very year when the grant for Virginia was obtained, and therefore the little company of settlers probably sailed for America with the "King's Flag" in the maintop and the "ancient flag" in the foretop.

On land, among the colonists, sometimes one flag was floated and sometimes the other. In Massachusetts the red cross of St. George seems to have been much in use; but before long that red cross began to hurt the consciences of the Puritans most grievously. To them the cross was the badge of the Roman Catholic Church. Still, it was on the flag of their mother country, the flag that floated over their forts and their ships. The Puritan conscience was a stern master, however, and when one day John Endicott led the little company of Salem militia out for a drill, and saw that cross hanging over the governor's gate, the sight was more than he could bear, and he—but Hawthorne has already told the story:—

Endicott was one of the court assistants, but he was now removed from his position and forbidden to hold any public office for one year. He was fortunate in being permitted to retain his head.

Endicott had been punished, but the Puritan conscience was not yet at rest, and now many of the militia declared that they did not think it right to march under the cross. The whole militia could not well be punished, and the commissioners for military affairs were as doubtful as the honest militia men about what should be done. "We will leave it to the next General Court to decide," they said, "and in the meantime no flags shall be used anywhere."

This seemed a comfortable way to settle the question, but unluckily there was a fort on Castle Island at the entrance to Boston Harbor, and when an English vessel came sailing in, its captain refused to pay any attention to a fort without a flag. Then the officer in command rose to his dignity and made the ship—maybe with the aid of a ball across her bows—strike her colors. The captain complained to the authorities that the commandant of this flagless fort had insulted his flag and his country. The authorities were just a bit alarmed. To insult a flag and a country was a serious matter. "What shall we do to make amends?" they queried. "Let the officer who proffered the insult come on board of my vessel and say in the presence of the ship's company that he was in fault," replied the captain. This was done, and the sky cleared.

But the troubles of the colonists were by no means over. The mate of another vessel declared with considerable emphasis that these people were all rebels and traitors to the King. Surely the thought of such a report as this going back to England from a tiny colony clinging to the edge of the continent was enough to alarm the boldest. Discussions were held, and Dr. John Cotton was appealed to.

A canny man was this Dr. John Cotton, and he decided that inasmuch as the fort belonged to the King, it was proper that it should display the King's Flag, whatever it might be,—"while vessels are passing," he added shrewdly; but that, as for the militia, each company might have its own colors, and not one of them need bear a cross. So the great tempest passed by.

CHAPTER II

THE PINE-TREE FLAG AND OTHERS

In some of the colonies at least, the people must have led a rather somber life, with little pleasure, much hard work, and much discomfort; but they fairly reveled in flags. The Indians in their warfare preferred to hide behind trees rather than to flourish banners, and the white men soon learned to follow their example. Nevertheless, it always seemed to the minds of the colonists a little irregular and out of place not to carry a flag of some sort when they were setting out on an expedition.

Probably we do not know one in twenty of all the designs for banners that entered the fertile minds of these colonists, but they were so numerous that if they had all been displayed at the same time, they would have almost hidden the settlements. Not all colonists were as afraid of a cross as were the good folk of Salem. In Newbury, Massachusetts, a certain company of foot rejoiced in a flag of vivid green. In the upper corner next the staff was a square of white containing a red cross. The kindly councilor, who had ordered the flag to be made in England "with all convenient speed," evidently had some sense of humor, for he wrote at the end of his letter to the company, "The number of bullets to be put into your colors for distinction may be left out at present without damage in the making of them." Another flag, belonging to a company of Massachusetts cavalry, seems to have been something quite out of the common, for it was of damask and silk and adorned with silver fringe. A real artist must have used his brush upon it, for the bill read, "For painting in oyle on both sides a Cornett on rich crimson damask, with a hand and sword and invelloped with a scarfe about the arms of gold, black and silver"; and for all that gorgeousness, generously painted "on both sides," the charge was the moderate one of £5 2s. 6d. This was made for what was known as the "Three County Troop," composed of cavalry from Essex, Middlesex, and Suffolk Counties in Massachusetts, and was probably used in King Philip's War.

Now, wherever a discoverer planted the sole of his foot, he took possession for his sovereign of all the land in sight and all the land which joined that land. Naturally, the claims of the colonies soon conflicted. The good folk of New England made an alliance to defend themselves against the Dutch, Swedes, and French. They managed to be good allies for forty years without a flag. Then came one brilliant enough to make up for the delay, and sent to them across the sea by no less a man than King James II himself. This was of white with a St. George's cross of red. In the center of the cross was a golden crown and under it the King's monogram in black. A few years later matters in England had changed. King James II had proved to be a very poor sort of sovereign, and it was made clear to him that for his health and comfort—possibly for his head—it would be wise for him to leave the country. This he did in alarm and at full speed, tossing the royal seal into the Thames on his way. It is small wonder that New Englanders preferred a new flag. The only marvel is that they waited so long a time before getting it. When it was finally chosen, it proved to be red with a white canton or union cut by a red St. George's cross into four squares. In one of these squares was the representation of a pine tree. This representation can hardly have been a work of art, for one historian says unkindly of it that it "no more resembled a pine tree than a cabbage." Evidently the brave colonists were not artists. Nevertheless, even if the good folk of Massachusetts could not draw a pine tree, they were fond of it, and their General Court decreed that it should be stamped upon the coins minted in that colony. Now it was the right of the King to coin money, and when Charles II heard that the ambitious colonists were making it for themselves, he was not pleased. "But it is only for their own use," said a courtier who favored the colonies, and taking a New England coin from his pocket, he showed it to the King. "What tree is that?" demanded the aggrieved monarch. "That," said the quick-witted courtier, "is the royal oak which saved Your Majesty's life." "Well, well," said the King, "those colonists are not so bad after all. They're a parcel of honest dogs!" Perhaps they were, even if their likenesses of pine trees could not be distinguished from cabbages and oaks. Hawthorne's story, "The Pine-Tree Shillings," is written about this inartistic coinage.

So the story of the flags went on. Besides the English flag every little company of militia had its standard. One flag bore a hemisphere in the corner in place of a pine tree, and another bore nothing but a tree. The colonists did not trouble themselves about being artistic or choosing colors of any special significance; if the ground of the flag was of one color and the cross or whatever other figure was chosen was of another, they were satisfied. Charleston, South Carolina, had a specially elegant flag—blue with a silver crescent—to use on "dress-up" days. After a time even the Indians were sometimes furnished with flags, for one kindly governor gave them a Union Jack as a protection. He presented them also with a red flag to indicate war and a white one as a sign of peace; and probably the fortunate Indians felt with all this magnificence quite like white folk.