the 56 signers of the Declaration of Independence
willingly risked loss of wealth, family,
and life itself to give us our freedom.
They Paid
the
by H. N. Ferguson
IT had been an unusually fine day for that time of
year: a comfortable 76 degrees in mid-afternoon;
pleasant indeed for July.
But in the steepled, brick State House on Phila
delphia's Chestnut Street, the atmosphere was any
thing but pleasant. The Continental Congress was
in session. For long, tiring days the delegates had
wrangled over a document they had tentatively
titled, "A Declaration of Independence."
Now the oratory was drawing to an end, the
final phase of the historic conference had been
reached. Yet there was not a happy man there.
Each was faced with the most difficult decision
of his life. For some it was an hour of heartbreak.
For Thomas Hey ward of South Carolina, whose
family was divided in loyalty between the king and
the colonies, it "was a moment of deep sadness.
It was especially a time of decision for the e
Quakers and Moravians, who would not shed blood,
yet loved their country as fervently as the others.
So there were many painful dilemmas in the State
House. The discussions droned on in the lemon
colored light of the candles.
What manner of men were these 56 patriots who
were willing, by signing their names, to risk every
thing including their lives? As a consequence of
their act, some were to suffer imprisonment, exile,
slander, and broken health. Others were to sacrifice
their fortunes, have their homes pillaged and
burned. And yet, few Americans today can name
even 10 of this valiant band who put together a
document establishing the greatest nation on earth.
As they painstakingly reworked each paragraph,
every man in the room clearly understood the dan
gers, both personal and national, of signing.
There were wealthy men present, like Charles
Carroll of Maryland,- John Hancock of Massachu
setts, and Robert Morris of Pennsylvania. With one
stroke of the pen, they might well become paupers.
Would they sign?
In a different way, Sam Huntington of Connecti
cut stood to lose even more. He had been a poor
man, a barrelmaker, studying law at night Now he
was a justice of the supreme court and a member
of the governor's council by appointment from
George III of England. Would he sign?
The afternoon wore on and the delegates were
still far from agreement they argued about the
contents of the paper, the timing, the phraseology,
even the wisdom of the political step it proclaimed.
And if they could have seen the future, one won
ders how it might have affected their decision.
What if Francis Lewis of New York could have
foreseen his home pillaged and burned, his wife
captured and cast into a filthy prison for months?
General Washington finally succeeded in securing
her release because of her failing health, but she
died two years later as a result of her confinement.
What if Richard Stockton of New Jersey could
have foreseen he would die in poverty because the -English
would seize all his property? A judge of
the state supreme court, he at first advocated
reconciliation with the Crown, but later opposed
England and joined the revolutionists.
Thomas Jefferson had written this declaration.
"You are ten -times a better writer than I," John
Adams had said, pressing the task on him. Jeffer
son sat now, under the dim lights, undergoing the
torture of literary vivisection. The Congress was
busy cutting and changing the declaration.
In spite of the bickering, there was really little
doubt in the minds of the leaders that the instru
ment would finally be signed. For a "phrenzy of
revenge" had swept the colonies after Lexington
and Concord, the Boston Massacre, and the new
tax laws. As Adams said, "the real revolution
occurred in the minds of the people" before this
Congress convened.
The session was nearing its climax. With its con
clusion, the delegates would scatter, to await the
workings of fortune. For some of them, tragic fates
indeed lay ahead.
Some were the biggest financial backers of the
Revolution and lost every cent they had. Carter
Braxton of Virginia, richest of them all, died in
debt, broken-hearted. His fortune had been in
ships, and all were captured by the British.
The wife of John Hart, a New Jersey farmer,
was dying when the Hessians reached his farm a
few months after he signed the famous document.
He was driven from her. side, his property was
ruined, and his 13 children scattered.
Hart managed to escape into the woods, where
he lived as a fugitive for more than a year, often
times in a cave. He refused to leave the state on
account of his wife, but by the time he was able to
return home she was dead. Though almost 70, he
joined Washington's army as a private!
As Lewis Morris was about to sign, he received
word that the enemy was at the gates of his Long
Island home, but that his property would be spared
if he would withhold his vote for liberty. "There
are plenty of homes, but only one country," he
answered, and signed. Everything he possessed was
taken from him, and his family was exiled.
Another signatory was Thomas Nelson, Jr., later
governor of Virginia. He mortgaged his estates and
raised $2 million to help finance the fighting in his
colony, but although he had given his entire for
tune to his country, he was never reimbursed. He
died penniless.
The candles in the State House were flickering
out as a final reading of the declaration began:
"When in the course of human events . . ."
High in the steeple of the building, an old bell
man had been patiently waiting since early morn
ing to signal the ratification of the document. He
had instructed a small boy to run to him with the
news of the signing.
Suddenly the lad was streaking toward him.
"Ring! Ringj" he cried.
The old man pulled the rope-and the great bell
began pealing forth its crucial message. On it was
inscribed: "Proclaim liberty throughout all the
land unto all the inhabitants thereof."
Family Weekly. June 2. 1J5