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| Daniel Webster in 1835, portrait by Francis Alexander, courtesy of the National Portrait Gallery. |
An 18-year-old country boy studying at Dartmouth College in 1800
was asked to give a speech at the Hanover, New Hampshire, Independence
Day ceremonies. His words and his passionate delivery rocked the crowd,
and the speech began his national career of service to the nation and
summoning vivid language and performance, to in turn call people to
action. Here is a bit of Daniel Webster's first public speech:
It becomes us, on whom the defence of our country will ere long devolve, this day, most seriously to reflect on the duties incumbent upon us. Our ancestors bravely snatched expiring liberty from the grasp of Britain, whose touch is poison... Shall we, their descendants, now basely disgrace our lineage, and pusillanimously disclaim the legacy bequeathed to us? Shall we pronounce the sad valediction to freedom, and immolate liberty on the altars our fathers have raised to her?
My second book in the Winds of Freedom series, This Ardent Flame,
reveals how Vermonters took on this challenge after Webster betrayed
their abolitionist goals, in forging the Compromise of 1850. It's fair
to say that his legal maneuvering that year cost America dearly, in
delaying the end of chattel slavery in the nation.
But
the impact of giving speeches on the Fourth of July has been embraced
by many another American leader. I reflect today on Abraham Lincoln's
proclamation of war on behalf of the Union of American states -- which
he gave on April 16, 1861, after Fort Sumter was seized by the
Confederacy forces. Knowing the strands among the states were ever
fragile, Lincoln deliberately called Congress to gather on July 4 to
endorse his action.
In hindsight, it can feel
like an intolerable delay, from April 16 to July 4. But Lincoln,
portrayed by historian Doris Kearns Goodwin as a master in politics
(giving, giving, and giving, until he'd call all to gather and get a
task done), calculated that the patriotism of the Fourth of July would
move the fragmented Congress to stand together. And he was exactly
right.
The Ardent Flame was scheduled
for autumn publication this year, but the COVID-19 pandemic has delayed
the release until June 2021. Even so, I'm already grappling with book 3,
Kindred Hearts, set in 1856 in "North Upton" (a pen name for
North Danville, Vermont). In every page, in every shift of plot and
character, is my own awareness that the nation was a mere five years
from the war that would devastate it, far beyond any initial guesses.
And I am walking with my protagonists, especially the teenagers, as they
wake up to the cost of having deferred the abolition of slavery.
We,
like they, are challenged to take action to address the damage done.
It's a good thing to ponder on this 246th anniversary of the Declaration
of Independence. May God bless our efforts to unite this land and
people in liberty and justice for all.
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| This portrait by Joseph Alexander Ames, believed to also be of Webster, hangs a mere 6 miles from my writing desk, at the St. Johnsbury Athenaeum. |
