Don’t Tread on Me: Rattlesnakes and the American Revolution

The first recorded instance of the rattlesnake as a symbol for the United States came in 1751, when Benjamin Franklin wrote in the Pennsylvania Gazette that in response to the British practice of sending convicted criminals to the States, the U.S. should thank them by sending back rattlesnakes.

During and after the French and Indian War, American colonists began to identify more with their communities and states than as British vassals. The concept of liberty was spreading up and down the American coast, and colonists turned to icons unique to the American continent to symbolize their identity apart from the British Empire.

The timber rattler is the most widely distributed venomous snake on the American East Coast. They can grow over 70 inches long and weigh close to 10 pounds. Their fangs are among the longest of the American pit vipers, and they have one of the highest venom yields of any rattlesnake. Basically, they should be the deadliest snake in America, but for all of their deadly potential, timber rattlesnake bites are rare.

Benjamin Franklin, again writing about rattlesnakes as an American icon, described in a 1775 Pennsylvania Journal essay why this makes the timber rattler an apt symbol for the United States;

“I recollected that her eye excelled in brightness, that of any other animal, and that she has no eye-lids—She may therefore be esteemed an emblem of vigilance.—She never begins an attack, nor, when once engaged, ever surrenders: She is therefore an emblem of magnanimity and true courage.—As if anxious to prevent all pretensions of quarreling with her, the weapons with which nature has furnished her, she conceals in the roof of her mouth, so that, to those who are unacquainted with her, she appears to be a most defenseless animal; and even when those weapons are shown and extended for her defense, they appear weak and contemptible; but their wounds however small, are decisive and fatal:—Conscious of this, she never wounds till she has generously given notice, even to her enemy, and cautioned him against the danger of stepping on her.—Was I wrong, Sir, in thinking this a strong picture of the temper and conduct of America?”

It was with this in mind that Colonel Christopher Gadsden placed a coiled timber rattlesnake on a yellow battle flag that he presented to the newly appointed commander of the Navy, Commodore Esek Hopkins, to fly as his personal mark on the flagship of the Revolutionary Naval Fleet. Below the snake, coiled and ready to strike if provoked, was a message: Don’t Tread on Me.