The Alfred was anchored at the foot of Walnut Street. On a brilliant morning early in February, 1776, gay streamers were seen floating from every masthead and spar on the river. At nine o'clock a full-manned barge threaded its way among the floating ice to the Alfred, bearing the commodore, who had chosen that vessel for his flagship. He was greeted with thunders of artillery and the shouts of the multitude.
When he stepped on board the deck of the Alfred, Captain Saltonstall gave a signal, and Lieutenant Jones hoisted a new flag prepared for the occasion. It is believed to have displayed a union with thirteen stripes crossed by a rattlesnake in some position, with the ominous motto, "Don't tread on me." When the flag reached the mast-head, the crowds cheered and the guns fired a salute,—as well they might, for this was the first ensign ever flung to the breeze on an American man-of-war. Paul Jones appreciated the honor of raising it, but he was no admirer of the rattlesnake flag. In his journal he wrote:—
I was always at loss to know by what queer fancy or by whose notion that device was first adopted. For my own part, I never could see how or why a venomous serpent could be the combatant emblem of a brave and honest folk fighting to be free. Of course I had no choice but to break the pennant as it was given to me. But I always abhorred the device.
Three weeks after the Alfred was put in commission, the little fleet sailed away from Philadelphia amid the cheers of thousands of people. One of the eye-witnesses said that the ships wore the Union Flag with thirteen stripes in the field. Of the admiral's flag an English writer said, "We learn that the vessels bearing this flag have a sort of commission from a society of people at Philadelphia, calling themselves the continental congress." Scornfully as he spoke of Congress, there is at least one record of which it may be proud. Franklin, under its authority, issued letters of marque with a lavish hand, but, hard-pressed as the colonists were, he bade John Paul Jones "not to burn defenseless towns on the British coast except in case of military necessity; and in such cases he was to give notice, so that the women and children with the sick and aged inhabitants might be removed betimes." Moreover, he bade all American cruisers if they chanced to meet Captain Cook, the great English explorer of that day, to "forget the temporary quarrel in which they were fighting and not merely suffer him to pass unmolested, but offer him every aid and service in their power."
CHAPTER VII
THE FIRST UNITED STATES FLAG
The "society of people at Philadelphia calling themselves the continental congress" had had, so far as records go, nothing to do with choosing any flag. The "Grand Union" unfurled at Cambridge was regarded as symbolizing the union of colonies, but no one knows who designed it or chose it. To alter the design of our flag to-day would be a very serious matter, but the colonies were so accustomed to the making of flags according to the whim of some militia company or some sea captain that the appearance of a new design, especially one so slightly changed from the familiar flag of the mother country, cannot have created any great sensation. Moreover, flags were not for sale at department stores; they had to be ordered, and in this time of war, bunting was not easy to procure. Flag-makers were few, and many a captain sailed away with a flag manufactured by his wife's own unaccustomed hands.
July 4, 1776, less than fifteen months after the battle of Lexington, it was declared in Congress "That these united colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent states." June 14, 1777, the following resolution was adopted:—