Read Ebook: But the Patient Lived by Warner Harry Orban Paul Illustrator

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 80 lines and 7629 words, and 2 pages

The True Story of THE AMERICAN FLAG

JOHN H. FOW

THE TRUE STORY OF THE AMERICAN FLAG

BY JOHN H. FOW

PHILADELPHIA WILLIAM J. CAMPBELL 1908

INTRODUCTION

History is the best incentive to make men love their country; it encourages that patriotism which never falters, even at the cannon's mouth. The sight of a flag or the music of a band merely enthuses as long as one is in sight or the other can be heard; but history and its knowledge are lasting and a source of pride. So, therefore, let it be true in all its details, no matter who may fall from the high pedestals upon which they have been placed by vain-glorious descendants.

JOHN H. FOW.

THE AMERICAN FLAG

So far as regards the adoption of the combination of stars and stripes, the same assertion can be safely made. As to the origin of each this research, it is hoped, will prove conclusively, first, that colored stripes representing a combination for a common purpose were used nearly two hundred years before the Declaration of Independence; second, that stars were used in the union of a flag in November, 1775, on a flag raised on a Massachusetts privateer commanded by Captain Manley , and that they were also used in the design of the book plate of the Washington family along with three stripes.

There can be no doubt that the stripes were made thirteen as a mere matter of sentiment to represent the colonies engaged in the Revolutionary struggle. As a matter of fact, the number thirteen appeared in a large number of instances during the Revolution, and was apparently used as an object lesson to remind the colonists that they were united in a common cause.

The colors of the stripes have no special meaning or significance, except that which anyone may apply who desires to make use of his imagination, or who may become sentimental upon the subject. Many have written and commented upon it; some have said that the red stripes mean courage, others war, daring, determination, and so on, and that the white stripes mean purity, peace, justice, or equity.

"Thy stars have lit the welkin dome, And all thy hues were born in heaven."

As a matter of fact, the idea of stripes in a flag to represent a combination for a common purpose originated in 1582 in the Netherlands, and symbolized the union of the Dutch Republic in its struggles against the power of Philip and the persecutions of Alva.

In a paper read before the New Jersey Historical Society by a Mr. Haven in January, 1872, he suggested "that the combination of our flag, the stars and stripes, were favored as a compliment to Washington, because they were upon the book plate of the General's family." He further stated "that the stars on the book plate were of Roman origin," and in support quoted from Virgil "Redire ad astra," meaning and inferring that a return to the stars meant a future home of peace and happiness for the human race, and that is what this nation would eventually become. Assertions and statements similar to the above may be quoted by the score, wherein reasons are given based upon theory and imagination as to the origin of the devices which compose our national banner.

The claim that has been made about Betsy Ross, who worked at upholstering and as a seamstress during the Revolution, who is said to have lived in a house either No. 80 or 89 Arch street, Philadelphia, now said to be No. 239 Arch street, as having some time in June, 1776, made and designed the first American flag as we now worship it, cannot be corroborated by historical research.

The claim is one of that legendary type that the Rabbins of old handed down for centuries, and which were believed to be true, until modern investigation proved their falsity, or like the imagination of artists who attempt to paint historical events without consulting details, historical, and geographical. The two most notorious in our history are Leutze's painting of Washington crossing the Delaware, and Benjamin West's painting of William Penn treating with the Indians. As to the first, I write from authority, having been designated to represent the Legislature of Pennsylvania as one of a committee of three to act in conjunction with the Trenton Battle Monument Committee to select an historical subject for the medallion to be placed upon one of the four sides of a monument, erected at Trenton, to represent Pennsylvania's part in that memorable event, we chose as the subject "Washington Crossing the Delaware," and the result of our labor, and investigation in conjunction with the Monument Committee can be seen to-day on the west side of the monument. The bronze tablet placed there by the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania truthfully delineates that notable event. The late General Stryker, of New Jersey, aided us, and furnished us books, and documents to obtain part of the data. The tablet represents a small rowboat, with General Knox sitting in the bow of the boat, and Washington in the stern, the man rowing the boat was a Mr. Cadwalader. He lived at McKonkey's Ferry, on the Pennsylvania side of the river. Leutze in his painting has Washington standing alongside of a horse in a large scow, such as were used in those days on the upper Delaware to take produce to the Philadelphia markets. A number of others are in the same boat, one holding aloft a flag containing a blue union with thirteen white stars--a flag that did not come into existence until six months after the battle was fought.

As to West's picture, one need only look at it, and then read the facts as related in any history of Pennsylvania, and it will be found how historically untrue it is. One instance alone would be sufficient; that is, in the painting, the vessel in which Penn came over is anchored out in the river, when, as a matter of fact, she never came up to Philadelphia. She was quarantined below Chester because of the smallpox, and Penn was rowed up the river from Chester in a small boat, and landed near the residence of the Swensons, two Swedes, who lived at Wicaco, and from whom he bought the land comprising old Philadelphia. Again, the elm tree is in full leaf, yet the "pow-wow" that Penn held with the Indians took place in November, and elm trees do not have leaves on them in this latitude in November. But why digress from the subject about which I started to write, merely to show that artists and those seeking for family distinction are not to be relied upon as truthful delineators of history.

The Ross claim is based upon the assertions set forth in a paper read in 1870 by Mr. William Canby before the members of the Historical Society of Pennsylvania. It was claimed in the paper or essay that from traditions existing in the Ross family, Betsy Ross, the grandmother of Mr. Canby on his mother's side, was the maker and designer of the first American flag, and that she lived on Arch street. A research shows that a Betsy Ross did live on Arch street; but the exact location is doubtful, and that her maiden name was Griscom. She was married three times, first to John Ross, second to Ashburn, and lastly to John Claypoole.

It was asserted in the paper read that a committee of Congress, along with General Washington, in June, 1776, called at her house, and engaged her to make a flag from a rough drawing, which, not suiting her, was at her suggestion, redrawn by Washington. From other traditional resources it was also claimed, that Mrs. Ross changed the stars from six-pointed to five-pointed. The whole claim is based upon tales told from memory by relatives, no other proofs have ever been found, and a careful and thorough research fails to discover any. In 1878 a pamphlet was issued from the printing office of the State printer at Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, written by a Mr. Reigart, based upon the above claim, and calling Mrs. Ross "the immortal heroine that originated the first flag of the Union." The book had an alleged portrait of Betsy Ross making the first flag; but it was afterwards discovered that it was really the portrait of an old Quaker lady who was living in Lancaster at the time the book was written. The book was so unreliable that it made the Ross claim appear ridiculous in the eyes of the public.

If Mrs. Ross made a flag in an Arch street house, as claimed, it was made after a design that had been conceived and born somewhere else, and her contribution was no more than her labor in sewing on some stars, the same labor that is given by any girl or woman who works in a flag manufactory. Even according to the paper which was read before the Society in 1870 it is admitted that a design made by someone else was taken to her, but that she made certain changes in it. Now, that is all there is in the Betsy Ross claim; yet the growing youths of the nation are being misled and taught an historical untruth when it is asserted that Mrs. Ross designed, originated and made the first American flag, and a lithograph has been issued showing that historical untruth, which has not as good a foundation, in fact, as the two paintings to which I have referred, because the events sought to be depicted in those two cases did happen. All the sentiment exhibited over the Betsy Ross story is lost upon those who have looked the matter up, and are conversant with the history and growth of our national emblem, which I will now take up. Those seeking for more elaborate details are referred to Bancroft's History of the United States; Lossing's Field Book of the Revolution; Philadelphia Times, April 6, 1877; The American, The Colonial and the Pennsylvania Archives; Journals of Congress, Vols. 1 and 2; Preble's History of the Flag; Cooper's Naval History; Life of John Adams; Hamilton and Sarmiento's Histories of our Flag; Sparks' and Washington Irving's Lives of Washington; Washington's own letters, diaries and other writings, and William Cullen Bryant's History of the United States, in which pages 420 and 421 of the third volume he devotes to a history of the flag, but nowhere does he mention the Ross claim. He evidently, like myself, could not find any authority for it, yet his history was published in 1879--nine years after the Ross claim was made. There are many other authorities, but not one of them gives her the credit claimed, and all of them except those written since the claim was made, leaving out the Bryant history, do not even mention her name.

At the outbreak of our Revolutionary struggle the different colonies had flags of their own design, which, if grouped together, would have reminded one of Joseph's coat, embellished with Latin and other mottoes. At the battle of Bunsmall-time pill-dealer like me?"

"Let's go into your office," Pop said, softly. He was old, tall and gaunt with a perpetual look of worry. Dr. Carson, younger and bustling, evaded Dr. Needzak's eyes.

Miss Waters was shoveling personal belongings from her desk into a giant handbag, when they reached the reception room. Dr. Needzak felt her eyes upon him, as the other two physicians kept him moving by the sheer impetus of their bodies into his consultation room.

"Where is it, Walt?" Dr. Manville asked, looking gloomily around the consultation room.

"Where's what, Pop? The drinks? I keep them--"

"The door to your operating room," Dr. Carson interrupted, hurriedly. "Let's not drag this thing out. It's going to be painful enough, among old friends. Your private office has been wired for sight and sound for the past three weeks. You shouldn't have tried to get away with that kind of practice in a big city."

Dr. Needzak felt the blood draining from his face. He reached for a drawer. Dr. Manville grabbed his arm with a tight, claw-like grasp, before it could touch the handle.

"It's all right, Pop," he said. "Nothing but gin in there. I'm not the violent type."

Dr. Carson pulled open the drawer toward which he had reached. He pulled out the tall bottle, slipped off the patent top, and sniffled. Handing it to Dr. Needzak, he said:

"Okay. You need some. Then save the rest for us. We'll feel like it, too, when we're done."

Dr. Needzak coughed after three large swallows. He looked at the other two doctors. "Who ratted?"

Dr. Carson nodded toward the reception room. Dr. Needzak instinctively clenched his fists. He half-rose from his chair, then sank back slowly. "I thought you guys were my friends," he said.

"We are, Walt," Dr. Manville said thoughtfully. "But this is business. When someone charges violation of medical ethics, we're the investigation committee. It looks like a simple investigation this time, with those tapes on file."

"What does she have against you, anyway?" Dr. Carson asked. "Usually a receptionist will go through hell to cover up little flubs for her boss. Were you mixed up with her in a personal way?"

"Mixed up with her?" Dr. Needzak laughed mirthlessly. "She's worked for me fifteen years. I've never made a pass at her."

Dr. Manville nodded sadly. "That was your mistake, Walt. Frustration. Disappointment. Worse than jealousy. Now, why not tell us everything?"

"There's nothing to tell. Those tapes give a false impression, sometimes. I just take difficult cases back there where I'm sure there won't be any disturbance."

"No use," Dr. Carson interrupted. "Things will be harder for you, if we lose patience with you. We know you've been curing illness against the patient's wishes, time after time. We just saw you take out a tumor. The poor kid will probably drag through another hundred years before she develops anything else serious. You prescribed anticoagulants to a man with an obvious blood clot. You even talked a couple with weak lungs into moving to Denver."

"All right, it was a tumor," Dr. Needzak admitted. "It was malign and it would have killed her in two or three years. But she's too young to make a decision for herself. Five years from now, she may have a different outlook on her personal problems. I have ethics, and I can't help it if they don't correspond in some details with the association's ethics."

"You were given your medical license under an oath to respect the ethics of the profession," Dr. Manville said slowly, emphatically. "The license did not give you the right to practice under ethics of your own invention."

"Ethics!" Dr. Needzak looked as if he wanted to spit. "Ethics is just a word. There was a time when physicians spent their time curing diseases and preventing them. They called that ethics. Now that there aren't enough illnesses left to give us work, now that people live long past the time when they want to go on living, now that we make our money helping people commit suicide the legal way, we call that ethics."

"You can't annihilate a concept simply by thinking it's only a word," Dr. Manville said. "There was a time when physicians used leeches for almost every patient. They fitted that nasty habit into their ethics. You wouldn't want to introduce leeches into this century, would you? But you should, if you're so consistently opposed to anything that sounds like changes in ethics."

"But I've done my part to get rid of human miseries," Dr. Needzak said, nodding toward a filing cabinet. "I can show you the data on hundreds of my patients. Old folks, who just got tired of living; I helped them die legally. Even younger people, who had a genuine reason for being tired of life. I couldn't have my fine home or pay rent in this building, if I went around curing every patient. There's no money in that."

"You wouldn't keep a filing cabinet for the times you disobeyed the medical code," Dr. Carson broke in. "But we have some of those cases on tape. You didn't refuse to handle the cases. You went ahead and played God, going directly against the direct will of your patients. Did you follow up all of the patients who aren't in your file cabinets? We traced the later records of some of them. Several suicided right out in the open. Their families haven't gotten back on their feet from the disgrace yet."

Dr. Needzak took two more deep swallows from the bottle. He looked glumly at the low level of the liquid through its dark side, saying:

"You fellows are enjoying this conversation more than old friends should enjoy the job of taking action against a fellow-doctor. And I'll tell you why you aren't too unhappy about it. You're jealous of me. You're jealous of the fact that I've been following a physician's natural instincts and healing people. You're angry with me for doing the things that you'd really love to do yourselves, if you had the guts. You aren't worried about that girl; you're peeved because you'd give your shirts for a chance to take out a genuine tumor yourself."

"Admitted," Dr. Carson said cheerfully. "I haven't seen a live tumor in three or four years. They're scarce. But we can't sit here chatting. We don't want to end up arguing."

Dr. Needzak rose. "What do I do, then?"

"The best action would be to come along with us to the association headquarters," Dr. Manville advised, avoiding Dr. Needzak's eyes. "In a half-hour or so, you can sign enough statements to avoid weeks of hearings. Otherwise, we'll be forced to bother lots of other physicians, hunt up your old patients, endure newspaper publicity, and have a general mess."

"After that, I start pounding the pavements, hunting a job." Dr. Needzak flexed his long, lean fingers. "Is it hard to learn how to operate ditch diggers?"

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet