Did Betsy Ross Really Make the First American Flag?

Flag Committee visiting Betsy Ross

Elizabeth Ross was an obscure Philadelphia upholsterer and occasional flag maker until 1870, when her grandson, William Canby, presented a paper before the Historical Society of Pennsylvania.

 

The nation’s centennial celebration was approaching, and Canby’s story arrived at just the right time.

 

America had a new hero. Her name was Betsy Ross.

 

As the story goes, Betsy wasn’t just a flag maker. She was quite a storyteller, too, and the tale she passed down to her children and grandchildren was a whopper—whether or not it was true.

 

Here’s the story as Canby told it.

 

Sometime between May 23 and June 7, 1777, George Washington, Robert Morris, and Colonel George Ross walked into Betsy Ross’s upholstery shop on Arch Street in Philadelphia.

 

Washington showed Betsy a rough design for a new flag and asked if she could make it. She said she could try, but the design needed work. One problem was the stars. The original sketch called for six-pointed stars. Betsy suggested using five points instead.

John Adams, The First & Second Continental Congress & The Battle of Lexington-Concord

 

John Adams

Massachusetts chose John Adams to represent it as a delegate to the First Continental Congress. To say he was anxious about his abilities was an understatement. Adams wrote that he was “unequal to this business.” He didn’t think he had a strong enough mastery of politics.

Adams considered his responsibilities for nearly two months. He had many doubts about his abilities and those of his fellow congressmen. “We have not men fit for the times. We are deficient in genius, in education, in travel, in fortune, in everything. I feel unutterable anxiety.”

If that were true, the colonies were in it together. What they didn’t know about politics, parliamentary procedures, administering a government, and eventual war, they would learn.

The Massachusetts Committee for Congress rode out of Boston shortly after 4 p.m. on August 10, 1774. John Adams rode beside fellow congressmen Thomas Cushing, Samuel Adams, and Robert Treat Paine.

Their journey was a pleasant one.

Joseph Plumb Martin Revolutionary War Soldier

Joseph Plumb Martin joined the Connecticut militia at age 15 and served for nearly eight years.

He saw action in New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania. He endured hunger, disease, and bitter winters, and kept a journal the whole time.

Years later, he published his memoir under the long-winded title: A Narrative of Some of the Adventures, Dangers and Sufferings of a Revolutionary Soldier. It’s one of the most detailed accounts we have of what life was really like for an ordinary soldier.

Martin didn’t sugarcoat anything. “We were absolutely, literally starved,” he wrote of the winter at Valley Forge. In another entry, he joked, “We had nothing to eat but fire-cake and water—fire-cake is flour and water mixed and baked in the ashes.”

His honesty and humor helped people understand while generals made the plans. It was kids like him who carried them out.

Molly Pitcher Revolutionary War Heroine

Historians believe “Molly Pitcher” was based on a real woman—Mary Ludwig Hays—who followed her husband, a Continental soldier, to the Battle of Monmouth in 1778. As soldiers dropped in the heat, she ran pitchers of water to cool them down. When her husband collapsed at his cannon, she stepped up and took his place.

A soldier who witnessed it wrote: “She attended the piece during the whole time; and in the sight of the enemy, she fought as manfully as her husband.”

After the war, the state of Pennsylvania awarded her an annual pension for her heroism. Her tombstone says: “Molly McCauley, the heroine of Monmouth.”

Baron von Steuben Drill Master of Valley Forge

 

In the middle of misery that was Valley Forge, something unexpected happened. A stranger arrived—a man with a strange name, a thick accent, and a sense of purpose. He called himself Baron Friedrich von Steuben. He was a former officer in the Prussian army, where soldiers were drilled to perfection. He had heard about the American cause and offered his help. Desperate, Washington agreed.

At first, the soldiers weren’t sure what to make of him. Von Steuben spoke little English, though he had a translator and a fiery temper. He’d shout orders in German, then curse in French, then throw up his hands and start over. But there was something about him—something bold and funny and sharp.

Von Steuben didn’t just bark commands from a distance. He got right in the mud with the men, demonstrating how to load a musket faster, how to march in formation, how to wheel and fire and hold the line. He introduced new discipline—not cruel, but smart and effective. He taught them how to fight like a proper army.

He began with a group of 100 chosen men, drilling them endlessly until they mastered every move. Then those men trained others. Soon, the entire army was learning the von Steuben way.

Patrick Henry Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death

By  early 1776, bullets had been flying for nearly a year, but the folks in charge still hadn’t made up their minds about what exactly they were fighting for.

Some wanted independence. Others still thought King George might change his mind and patch things up. A few were hoping someone else would decide, so they didn’t have to.

Back in Virginia, Patrick Henry wasn’t waiting for anyone. He already knew where he stood.

Henry wasn’t a soldier. He didn’t carry a musket or march in formation. He was a lawyer—a loud, passionate one—and when he spoke, people listened.

In March 1775, just weeks before the first shots were fired, Henry gave a speech at the Virginia Convention that rattled the walls. No one had ever heard anything like it. The British were sending more troops; he warned. They weren’t coming to keep the peace—they were coming to put chains on the colonies.