A Final Thought: “My Lords and Gentlemen”

Every year from the middle of June to the Fourth of July, my thoughts turn to the American Revolution and how revolutionary it truly was—to declare oneself free and independent, out from under the thumb of one of the most formidable monarchies in the world.

The Declaration of Independence is only words, but these words were backed up by powerful calls to action by many people dedicated to the notion of freedom, dedicated enough to die for what at the time many thought was simply the quaint notion—“that all men are created equal.”

Yes, it took another 200 years to understand that “all men” also included women and people of color, but to this day, these words remain the inspiration for the cause of freedom around the world. 

When we think of the “Founding Fathers,” a vision of elder statesmen may come to mind, but other than Benjamin Franklin, many were youngsters. At the time of the signing of the Declaration of Independence, James Monroe was 18; Alexander Hamilton, 21; Thomas Jefferson; 33, John Adams 40; and Benjamin Franklin, 70.

Nathan Hale was 21 when the British hanged him on September 22, 1776, just after he reportedly uttered, “I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country.”

One of my favorite revolutionaries was Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de La Fayette, Marquis de La Fayette. He arrived from France in 1777 obsessed with the notion of liberty, and was appointed a major general in the Continental Army at the age of 19.

The Declaration of Independence itself is a long list of grievances the signers had against England’s King George III, age 38, justifying the call for independence. After the list of grievances, the document reads:

 “In every stage of these oppressions we have petitioned for redress in the most humble terms: Our repeated petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A prince, whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.”

One interesting aspect of the Declaration—one most Americans ignore—is King George III’s reaction to it. We don’t know what he thought about it when he first received it in mid-August 1776, but we do know what he thought six weeks later when he addressed the opening session of Parliament on October 31, 1776, almost four months after the signing and 18 months after “the shot heard ’round the world” at the battles of Lexington and Concord.

In his speech, the king expressed disappointment and frustration not dissimilar to the lyrics of the captivating song “You’ll Be Back,” featured in the popular musical Hamilton:

You’ll be back, soon, you’ll see

You’ll remember you belong to me

You’ll be back, time will tell

You’ll remember that I served you well

Oceans rise, empires fall

We have seen each other through it all

And when push comes to shove

I will send a fully armed battalion to remind you of my love!

Of course, the monarch’s actual speech to parliament didn’t rhyme and was much less “Broadway.” It began:

“My Lords and Gentlemen,

Nothing could have afforded me so much satisfaction as to have been able to inform you, at the opening of this session, that the troubles, which have so long distracted my colonies in North America, were at an end; and that my unhappy people, recovered from their delusion, had delivered themselves from the oppression of their leaders, and returned to their duty: but so daring and desperate is the spirit of those leaders, whose object has always been dominion and power, that they have now openly renounced all allegiance to the crown, and all political connection with this country; they have rejected, with circumstances of indignity and insult, the means of conciliation held out to them under the authority of our commission; and have presumed to set up their rebellious confederacies for independent states. If their treason be suffered to take root, much mischief must grow from it…”

Have a happy and blessed Fourth of July. Maybe even make a little mischief. 

Mitch@MimiVanderhaven.com