"Pulling Down the Statue of George III," a circa 1854 oil painting by William Walcutt, depicts a mob pulling down a monument of the British king at Bowling Green in what is now New York City shortly after the Declaration of Independence was signed in July 1776. Public domain.
"Pulling Down the Statue of George III," a circa 1854 oil painting by William Walcutt, depicts a mob pulling down a monument of the British king at Bowling Green in what is now New York City shortly after the Declaration of Independence was signed in July 1776. Public domain.

I write, gentle readers, to confirm for you that the reports you may have heard in taverns or town squares are true: We are today citizens of a new and independent nation.

History may somewhat conflate the epic events of the past weeks into a single day for simplicity’s sake, but we know that this new status has come upon us in multiple ways.

On June 29, the Virginia Convention — that elected body which has taken the place of the House of Burgesses — adopted Virginia’s first written constitution, which declared “the government of this country, as formerly exercised under the crown of Great Britain, is TOTALLY DISSOLVED.”

Regardless of what path other Colonies might take, Virginia from that point forward declared itself a free and independent state over which no king across the ocean may rule.

Days later, in Philadelphia on July 2, the Continental Congress took the same action on behalf of all 13 Colonies that sent delegates (we still hold out some hope, likely in vain, that Quebec and Nova Scotia might join us).

Two days after that, on July 4, the same Continental Congress adopted a declaration penned largely by that gentleman of Albemarle County, Thomas Jefferson, that set forth an official explanation for such a revolutionary act.

We cannot help but notice the similarities between the words of the Virginia Constitution and the words of that national Declaration of Independence.

The Virginia Constitution declares “That all men are by nature equally free and independent, and have certain inherent rights, of which, when they enter into a state of society, they cannot, by any compact, deprive or divest their posterity; namely, the enjoyment of life and liberty, with the means of acquiring and possessing property, and pursuing and obtaining happiness and safety.”

The Declaration of Independence says much the same thing, but in fewer words: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”

Both documents also reject the concept of royalty, without explicitly saying so.

Virginians in Williamsburg set to parchment: “That all power is vested in, and consequently derived from, the people; that magistrates are their trustees and servants, and at all times amenable to them.”

Americans in Philadelphia inked this to paper: “That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed.”

It would appear that Virginia has led and others have followed.

Words alone will not secure our independence from the greatest military power on the globe, however. Only deeds will, and some of those deeds played out July 8-10 on a small stretch of land known as Gwynn’s Island, at the mouth of the Painkatank River in Gloucester County. (Modern editor’s note: Today this is part of Mathews County). It was there that royal authority in Virginia came to an end, or so we must hope.

We all know that the royal governor, Lord Dunmore, fled Williamsburg in June 1775 and, for more than a year, has been skulking about in Hampton Roads. He has had no army with which to reestablish himself, and we have no navy with which to evict him. Some inventive local worthies set out to rectify that by building fireboats, which they intended to set aflame and send down the Elizabeth River as a way to trap Dunmore and his fleet. Anticipating this, Dunmore set sail in late June. It was devoutly hoped that he would continue on out to sea, never to be seen again, but instead he turned north, exploring up the Chesapeake Bay until he alighted on Gwynn’s Island.

Not two years ago, Dunmore marched to battle along the Ohio River with Andrew Lewis and his men from the Great Valley. Now the two former comrades-in-arms met again, this time as opponents across 200 yards of water. Lewis brought in cannons from Williamsburg and set them firing; Dunmore fled and now appears to truly be gone for good.

All Virginians are in debt to Lewis: He not only has secured our western lands, but he has also secured our liberty from the royal writ.

The work, though, is not yet done, no matter how many times we toll bells in celebration.

The British army remains on our soil. Maybe not Virginia soil, but the soil of our fellow Americans to the north. They will not be persuaded by calm reason to leave. Only defeat and desperation will force the British army to retreat. Can General George Washington accomplish this with untried men?

In our midst there are many who still support the crown. By some estimates, a third or more remain Loyalists. The New River Valley, in particular, is said to be a nest of these rascals. Then there are many others who take no side, but merely wait to see who prevails.

As giddy as we may feel from the past weeks of declarations, a long road — and much toil and likely despair — lies ahead.

Just as we were about to send this type to the press, word comes to us from New York: A group of spirited citizens (the British would say a mob) has pulled down the statue of King George III, with plans to melt it down for bullets. It is said there will be enough metal for 42,088 musket balls.

Yancey is founding editor of Cardinal News. His opinions are his own. You can reach him at dwayne@cardinalnews.org...