Chapter XII: Act IV (6)

If we study the history of European nations, we will find a trace at least of jealousy between them that has come down from the days of barbarism. In ancient times the king, who was then supposed to possess, and is still suspicioned to have, some attributes of Divinity, ruled only over such territory as he was able to hold in subjection. He broke no law of nations if, without notice, cause or provocation, he made war upon his neighbor in an attempt to conquer and subdue additional territory. He violated no principle of government if in carrying out his purpose he resorted to trickery, chicanery, and dishonesty. The result was that every ruler was suspicious of every other ruler.

This suspiciousness and lack of confidence anciently existing between kings, and permeating the framework of every European nation, has, in a lessening and decreasing degree, come down to the present day. It exists now--unconsciously perhaps--but exists nevertheless, and must be taken into consideration whenever any European nation makes a proposition to other European nations for the settlement of any great international question. This condition was well paraphrased by a great European statesman in comparing European conditions with those of America, when he referred to it as American boldness and European suspiciousness.

In the new world where our government's leadership and controlling influence are recognized and acknowledged by all the world, these conditions do not obtain. Here the divine right of kings has never been recognized. We have not only disclaimed the right of conquest ourselves, but we have refused to recognize it in others. We have not only refused to recognize this right in the strong nation, but we have protected the weak nation against it. Moreover we have shown to the world our unselfish devotion to that principle to the extent of sacrificing life and treasure in the defense of the weak against the strong--the protection of the down-trodden and oppressed against oppression. Our entire national life has been emblematic of an unselfish respect for the rights of other nations, and is not tainted with that suspiciousness which has come down to others from ancient times. Our position among the nations of the world was well illustrated by what happened in the war between Russia and Japan.

When these two great nations had gotten each other by the throat and were struggling in mortal combat, the entire world was aroused to admiration by the action of America's great president. Neither one of the warring nations had expressed any desire for peace. Neither one had shown any disposition to cease the conflict. Neither one had asked for any intercession, and yet in the midst of the bloody conflict, when America's voice was heard, they both halted, they both ceased, and they both obeyed.

It was because they knew--all the world knew--that in the voice which called them from the battlefield to reason's court there was no taint of selfishness; that in that call there was no suspicion of an ulterior or dishonorable motive, but that in the heart of the great statesman, whose voice they heeded, there was only the purity of a humane effort to bring about the welfare of all. From the very nature of the development of other nations from the barbarism of ancient times it is quite apparent that no other ruler of the civilized world could have made that proposition with the same successful results. In response to the friendly intervention of the American Government, Russia and Japan appointed commissioners to agree upon terms of peace.

While these commissioners were in session on American soil, a notable assemblage for the advancement of international arbitration was in session at Brussels, the capital of Belgium. At this meeting of the Interparliamentary Union there were representatives from practically every civilized country in the world except Russia and Japan. We watched with hopeful anxiety the reports which the cable brought us of the progress that was being made by these peace commissioners at Portsmouth. In that assemblage, composed of representatives from two continents, there was a unanimous wish, a united hope, a fervent prayer that America's intervention would prove successful.

As a fitting close of that great international conference the representatives of Belgium invited all the delegates to a reception held in that historic building where the cohorts of Napoleon were assembled in revelry on the eve of Waterloo. The rooms were decorated with the colors of all nations. The finest band of Belgium was playing her national air. In the midst of it the music suddenly ceased. All eyes were turned to the rostrum. We saw the leader of the band seize from the decorations of the hall the American flag, and using it as a baton, he waved it over the heads of the musicians, and in answer to his action there burst forth the rapturous strains of "The Star Spangled Banner."

For a moment, and a moment only, there was silence, and then there burst forth a roar of applause which clearly indicated that everyone there understood, that beneath the fathomless deep the electric spark had brought the welcome news that on the shores of America an agreement for peace had been signed. On the occasion of nearly one hundred years before the revelry was interrupted by the booming of cannon, but on this occasion it was the joyous message that under the leadership of America the peace of the world had been established. That was an occasion, my countrymen, when it was greater to be an American citizen than to wear a crown.

Heretofore one of the greatest obstacles to the peaceful settlement of international difficulties, and to the submission of such controversies to arbitration, has been that the offense has been committed, or the controversy has arisen before any rule for its settlement has been provided, or any tribunal for its determination has been selected. This ex post facto machinery for the settlement of differences is not only unreasonable and illogical, but it has been guarded against by all the civilized nations of the earth in the regulation and management of their own internal affairs. When disagreeing nations are aroused to anger by the excitement and the prejudice of the people on account of real or imaginary wrong, it is a poor time indeed to attempt to agree upon a fair method of settlement, or to exercise that calm deliberation which should be invoked in the selection of the arbitrators.

The treaty of arbitration should be general and apply to all disputes. It should be negotiated in time of profound peace, and not with reference to any particular controversy. Its judges should be selected in time of peace and their terms of office should be permanent. In order that they might be removed from, and uninfluenced by, any bias or prejudice they should be appointed for life, and while holding this great international commission they should be prohibited from accepting or holding any other office or emolument from any government.

The treaty, however, should specifically provide that these international judges could be appointed and selected as members of any other international arbitration tribunal, and in accordance with this provision each government would undoubtedly select the same men as judges for each arbitration treaty into which it entered.

To illustrate--if our government entered into such a treaty with the German Empire, and afterwards into a similar treaty with France, we would select the same arbitrators under the treaty with France that we had named in carrying out the provisions of the treaty with Germany, and in any subsequent arbitration treaty with any other nation, the same men would again be named as our arbitrators. There is little doubt but what all other nations would pursue a similar course.

This would give us an international court that would command the absolute respect of all mankind and the confidence of all civilization. Its judges would be free from any bias, prejudice or excitement that might exist in either one or both of the contending nations. Instead of representing one government as against the other they would in fact, without partiality and with equal justice, represent both of the contending parties. Their life work would be the study of international questions. They would become learned--yea, experts--in international law and the administration of international justice. If each nation selected the same judges in each of its arbitration treaties, the world would have a list--a school--of international jurists devoting their time, their energies and their lives to the study of international questions and the settlement of international disputes. In the hands of these men the peace of the civilized world would be safe and secure.

The treaty of arbitration would undoubtedly provide for an equal number of arbitrators from each of the contracting parties. It likewise would, and undoubtedly should, provide for the selection of additional members of the court in cases where the judges were equally divided on any question submitted to them. A wise provision would be to let the permanent judges themselves select the additional arbitrators, and with this list of great international jurists from which to make a choice, how small the possibility of error, and how great would be the probability of a wise selection. As a matter of fact it would seldom be necessary for this provision of the treaty to be acted on. Not once in a lifetime would the members of such a court be divided along the lines of nationality. The judges of this court, occupying this dignified, exalted and unparalleled position before the world, would be farther removed from bias and prejudice than any court that has ever been instituted in the history of mankind. Its decisions would become precedents for future action. It would not be long until we would have a line of decisions, that would eliminate the uncertainty of international law which has existed in the past. A question once determined by this great court would be accepted by the world as the law for the future, and the result would be that we would not only have an international tribunal for the peaceful settlement and determination of all international questions, but their decisions would become the beacon lights of peace for future generations, whose rays of wisdom and of reason would light up the dark waters of international jurisprudence, mark out the course of safety for every ship of state, and warn her mariners of the shoals of disaster.

There is no ground whatever for the belief which prevails somewhat that the members of such a court would always follow the contention of their own country. Even under the present cumbersome and illogical method of selecting arbitrators we have a recent illustration that men great enough to fill positions of this kind, realizing the dignity and responsibility of the position, will rise above the clamor of their own countrymen and decide the question at issue upon its merits. I refer to the Alaskan boundary dispute between the United States and Great Britain. We have also an illustration of this point in our own country.

Our national government is composed of sovereign states. State pride is an attribute of practically all our citizens. Its influence has compelled men to honestly do all kinds of unreasonable things. For it men have given up their property and sacrificed their lives. Yet this prejudice has never reached our judiciary. Every United States judge is a citizen of some state. They try cases between different states, pass on disputes existing between a sovereign state and the citizens of another state, and settle controversies arising between the citizens of one state and the citizens of another state. Our judges have been criticized on nearly all possible grounds, often no doubt without reason, sometimes perhaps with good cause, but in the entire history of our country, there has never yet been made the charge that any one of these judges has been influenced in his official conduct by pride of his native or adopted state. Man is often unconsciously influenced and controlled by his associations, his habits and the environments of earlier life. Their influence has become a part of the man. But the history of jurisprudence will show that judges have seldom, if ever, been moved or influenced in official action by the excitement, the clamor or the prejudice of the citizenship if it was beyond the power of that citizenship to reward or punish.

It is unnecessary to provide any method for the enforcement of the decrees of an international court. It is safe to trust to the honor of the governments interested, and to the enlightened public sentiment of the civilized world for the honest enforcement in good faith of every such judgment and decree. This has been frequently demonstrated in the past. In all the history of the world there has never been an instance where an offending nation has failed to carry out in good faith the judgment of an international court.

In America the friends of international arbitration are not united as they should be. The division comes about principally on account of a disagreement as to what should be the size of our navy. There are some who believe that we should make but a small annual increase in our navy, and some of these are inclined to criticize those who advocate a large navy and to claim that such conduct is inconsistent with international arbitration. While I have been one of those who usually have favored a small yearly increase in our naval vessels, yet I am frank to admit that under present conditions, there is much sound logic in the argument that the greatest and best assurance of international peace, is to be always prepared for war. It is well too, to remember that an unbiased and unprejudiced tribunal in a foreign land has recently given an international trophy--the world's prize--to the greatest American exponent of a large navy, for having during the year for which the prize was given, accomplished more for international peace, than any other living man. It is not my intention to discuss this subject. It is not necessary to decide it for the purposes of the present discussion. It is of importance when considering the subject of national defense and national finances, but it has no decisive influence upon the question of international arbitration. The man who favors a small navy, and the man who favors a large one can consistently work side by side for the advancement of international peace. The size of the navy that we should maintain is a question upon which the minds of wise and patriotic men may honestly differ. Everybody admits that we should keep and maintain an ample and sufficient navy, and that annual additions thereto are necessary to maintain its efficiency. But, the terms "adequate navy," "sufficient navy" and "large navy" are very indefinite, and convey entirely different ideas to different people. What one man might regard as a small navy, another one equally as wise would regard as entirely too large. What one person would consider a small and inadequate annual addition to our navy, others, equally as patriotic, would regard as unreasonable and extravagant. A man's ideas on this disputed and unsettled question can not consistently be urged against the sincerity of his purpose when he advocates international arbitration.

But while the friends of international arbitration may honestly disagree as to the strength of the army and the size of the navy that should be maintained in times of peace, there is no disagreement in the condemnation of the conditions which make it necessary to maintain a large army and navy. These conditions are relics of barbarism. They are not founded upon any wisdom, reason, or justice. They exist only because the great men of to-day, who hold the destinies of nations in their hands have not met upon the broad plane of equality and agreed upon their abolishment.

Heretofore the cry of international arbitration has come mainly from those who were moved by the idea of philanthropy, of mercy and of humanity. It will not be long until these influences will be joined by all the commercial interests of civilization and all the tax-payers of the world. For the fiscal year (1907) in our own country there was appropriated from the national treasury nearly four hundred millions of dollars on account of war. Over sixty-five per cent. of the revenues of our national government are spent on account of our wars of the past, or in preparation for war in the future. Every time our government raises a dollar by taxation more than sixty-five cents of it is demanded as a tribute by this blood thirsty demon.

Our situation is only a fair illustration of what exists everywhere in the world. In round numbers about one-half of the money raised by taxation in the leading civilized nations of the world is spent, either in the payment of obligations of past wars, or in the preparation for war in the future. The expense of this preparation is increasing at a wonderful rate. Our government expends about the same amount of money as the other leading nations of the world in the preparation for war in the future, but for the expenses of wars that are past it expends more than all the other nations combined. The expenses of our past wars, consisting chiefly and mainly of pensions, are just, and no one would cut them down, excepting as they will be curtailed by the hand of Time as he gathers into his fold our heroes of the past. We will therefore eliminate the past from the financial consideration of the question. During a single year of peace, Great Britain, Germany, France, and the United States spent nearly one billion of dollars in making preparation for war. All the money in the United States would only pay this enormous expense for a little more than two years. The people of these highly civilized countries, while in profound peace, were taxing themselves to death, in order that the survivors might kill each other according to the most modern methods of modern warfare with the most modern weapons of human destruction.

As startling and astounding as these figures are, they do not tell one half of the story. Human life cannot be measured in dollars and cents; broken hearts cannot be healed by the appropriation of money; human suffering and misery cannot be alleviated by financial consideration, and humanity stands helpless in the face of death and destruction. At the fireside of practically every home in Christendom, there is a vacant chair, made so by war. For every vacant chair there was a ruined hearthstone; for every hearthstone there was a sorrowing widow; and for every widow there is a fatherless child. For every penny spent for war there is a sigh of grief; for every shilling there is a tear of sorrow; and for every dollar there is a broken heart. The amount expended on this account in the civilized world, in one year would give shelter to every pauper, a home to every unfortunate, and an education to every child. At the present rate of increasing expense it will not be long until this great chain will break of its own weight; until every nation will become bankrupt and every tax-payer will become a pauper. As this time approaches, the forces of international peace will become more numerous and more powerful. Humanity will shake off the shackles of barbarism and defy the God of War upon his throne. In this battle of reason, that tyrant of oppression, that ruler of ignorance, that demon of superstition, in whose decree there is no mercy, in whose judgment there is no justice, will be driven from his throne, and relegated beyond the portals of a universal peace, to be remembered only as a horrible nightmare of an unholy and an unrighteous past.

LINCOLN'S GETTYSBURG ADDRESS

Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth upon this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure.

We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as the final resting-place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. But in a larger sense we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here have consecrated it far above our power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember, what we say here; but it can never forget what they did here.

It is for us, the living, rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us, that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they here gave the last full measure of devotion; that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain; that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, and for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

PRESIDENT WILSON'S NEUTRALITY PROCLAMATION

This proclamation is in strict keeping with Washington's counsel.
It is one of the greatest of President Wilson's state papers and
probably did more than any one act of his administration in keeping
the United States from becoming involved in the European war.

MY FELLOW COUNTRYMEN:--I suppose that every thoughtful man in America has asked himself, during these last troubled weeks, what influence the European war may exert upon the United States, and I take the liberty of addressing a few words to you in order to point out that it is entirely within our own choice what its effects upon us will be and to urge very earnestly upon you the sort of speech and conduct which will best safeguard the Nation against distress and disaster.

The effect of the war upon the United States will depend upon what American citizens say and do. Every man who really loves America will act and speak in the true spirit of neutrality, which is the spirit of impartiality and fairness and friendliness to all concerned. The spirit of the Nation in this critical matter will be determined largely by what individuals and society and those gathered in public meetings do and say, upon what newspapers and magazines contain, upon what ministers utter in their pulpits, and men proclaim as their opinions on the street.

The people of the United States are drawn from many nations, and chiefly from the nations now at war. It is natural and inevitable that there should be the utmost variety of sympathy and desire among them with regard to the issues and circumstances of the conflict. Some will wish one nation, others another, to succeed in the momentous struggle. It will be easy to excite passion and difficult to allay it. Those responsible for exciting it will assume a heavy responsibility, responsibility for no less a thing than that the people of the United States, whose love of their country and whose loyalty to its government should unite them as Americans all, bound in honor and affection to think first of her and her interests, may be divided in camps of hostile opinion, hot against each other, involved in the war itself in impulse and opinion if not in action.

Such divisions among us would be fatal to our peace of mind and might seriously stand in the way of the proper performance of our duty as the one great nation at peace, the one people holding itself ready to play a part of impartial mediation and speak the counsels of peace and accommodation, not as a partisan, but as a friend.

I venture, therefore, my fellow countrymen, to speak a solemn word of warning to you against that deepest, most subtle, most essential breach of neutrality which may spring out of partisanship, out of passionately taking sides. The United States must be neutral in fact as well as in name during these days that are to try men's souls. We must be impartial in thought as well as in action, must put a curb upon our sentiments as well as upon every transaction that might be construed as a preference of one party to the struggle before another.

My thought is of America. I am speaking, I feel sure, the earnest wish and purpose of every thoughtful American that this great country of ours, which is, of course, the first in our thoughts and in our hearts, should show herself in this time of peculiar trial a Nation fit beyond others to exhibit the fine poise of undisturbed judgment, the dignity of self-control, the efficiency of dispassionate action; a Nation that neither sits in judgment upon others nor is disturbed in her own counsels and which keeps herself fit and free to do what is honest and disinterested and truly serviceable for the peace of the world.

Shall we not resolve to put upon ourselves the restraints which will bring to our people the happiness and the great and lasting influence for peace we covet for them?

August 18, 1914.

Footnotes:

[1] From the poem entitled "Wanted," by J. G. Holland.

[2] Edward Brooks.

[3] From "White Bees and Other Poems," by Henry van Dyke, copyright, 1909, by Charles Scribner's Sons. By permission of Charles Scribner's Sons, publishers.

[4] This lecture is found in full in Vol. XII (1915 Edition) of "Beacon Lights of History," copyright 1902 by the publishers, Fords, Howard & Hulbert, and is here used by special permission of Dr. Andrews and his publishers.

[5] William McKinley.

[6] But one of these incidents is given in this extract.

[7] Henry Ward Beecher.

[8] John P. Newman.

POETRY OF PATRIOTISM

New York Harbor]

CONCORD HYMN[1]

By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Their flag to April's breeze unfurled,
Here once the embattled farmers stood,
And fired the shot heard round the world.

The foe long since in silence slept;
Alike the conqueror silent sleeps;
And Time the ruined bridge has swept
Down the dark stream which seaward creeps.

On this green bank, by this soft stream,
We set to-day a votive stone;
That memory may their dead redeem,
When, like our sires, our sons are gone.

Spirit, that made those heroes dare
To die, and leave their children free,
Bid Time and Nature gently spare
The shaft we raise to them and thee.

WARREN'S ADDRESS

Stand! the ground's your own, my braves!
Will ye give it up to slaves?
Will ye look for greener graves?
Hope ye mercy still?
What's the mercy despots feel?
Hear it in that battle peal!
Read it on yon bristling steel!
Ask it--ye who will.

Fear ye foes who kill for hire?
Will ye to your homes retire?
Look behind you!--they're afire!
And, before you, see
Who have done it! From the vale
On they come!--and will ye quail?
Leaden rain and iron hail
Let their welcome be!

In the God of battles trust!
Die we may--and die we must;
But, oh, where can dust to dust
Be consigned so well,
As where heaven its dews shall shed
On the martyred patriot's bed,
And the rocks shall raise their head,
Of his deeds to tell?

John Pierpont

PATRIOTISM

Breathes there the man, with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land!
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned,
As home his footsteps he hath turned
From wandering on a foreign strand!
If such there breathe, go, mark him well;
For him no minstrel raptures swell;
High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;
Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentered all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.

Sir Walter Scott

THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER

Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming,
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming?
And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there:
Oh, say, does that Star-Spangled Banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

On that shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses!
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines on the stream:
'Tis the Star-Spangled Banner, Oh, long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion
A home and a country should leave us no more!
Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution;
No refuge should save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave:
And the Star-Spangled Banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

Oh, thus be it ever when freemen shall stand
Between their loved homes and war's desolation.
Blest with victory and peace, may the Heaven-rescued land
Praise the power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto, "In God is our trust":
And the Star-Spangled Banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

Francis Scott Key

MY COUNTRY

My country, 'tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee I sing.
Land where my fathers died,
Land of the pilgrims' pride,
From every mountain side
Let freedom ring!

My native country! Thee--
Land of the noble free,--
Thy name I love;
I love thy rocks and rills,
Thy woods and templed hills;
My heart with rapture thrills
Like that above.

Let music swell the breeze,
And ring from all the trees
Sweet freedom's song.
Let mortal tongues awake;
Let all that breathe partake;
Let rocks their silence break,--
The sound prolong.

Our fathers' God, to Thee,
Author of liberty,
To Thee we sing;
Long may our land be bright
With freedom's holy light;
Protect us by Thy might,
Great God, our King!

Samuel F. Smith

THE AMERICAN FLAG

When Freedom, from her mountain height,
Unfurled her standard to the air,
She tore the azure robe of night,
And set the stars of glory there.
She mingled with its gorgeous dyes
The milky baldric of the skies,
And striped its pure celestial white
With streakings of the morning light.

Then, from his mansion in the sun,
She called her eagle bearer down,
And gave into his mighty hand
The symbol of her chosen land.
Flag of the free heart's hope and home,
By angel hands to valor given!
Thy stars have lit the welkin dome,
And all thy hues were born in heaven.

Forever float that standard sheet!
Where breathes the foe but falls before us,
With Freedom's soil beneath our feet,
And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us!

Joseph Rodman Drake

SONG OF MARION'S MEN

Our band is few but true and tried,
Our leader frank and bold;
The British soldier trembles
When Marion's name is told.
Our fortress is the good greenwood,
Our tent the cypress tree;
We know the forest round us,
As seamen know the sea.
We know its walls of thorny vines,
Its glades of reedy grass,
Its safe and silent islands
Within the dark morass.

Woe to the English soldiery
That little dread us near!
On them shall light at midnight
A strange and sudden fear
When, waking to their tents on fire,
They grasp their arms in vain,
And they who stand to face us
Are beat to earth again;
And they who fly in terror deem
A mighty host behind,
And hear the tramp of thousands
Upon the hollow wind.

Then sweet the hour that brings release
From danger and from toil:
We talk the battle over,
And share the battle's spoil.
The woodland rings with laugh and shout,
As if a hunt were up,
And woodland flowers are gathered
To crown the soldier's cup.
With merry songs we mock the wind
That in the pine-top grieves,
And slumber long and sweetly
On beds of oaken leaves.

Well knows the fair and friendly moon
The band that Marion leads--
The glitter of their rifles,
The scampering of their steeds.
'Tis life to guide the fiery barb
Across the moonlight plain;
'Tis life to feel the night wind
That lifts his tossing mane.
A moment in the British camp--
A moment--and away,
Back to the pathless forest,
Before the peep of day.

Grave men there are by broad Santee,
Grave men with hoary hairs;
Their hearts are all with Marion,
For Marion are their prayers.
And lovely ladies greet our band,
With kindliest welcoming,
With smiles like those of summer,
And tears like those of spring.
For them we wear these trusty arms,
And lay them down no more
Till we have driven the Briton,
Forever from our shore.

William Cullen Bryant

THE OLD CONTINENTALS

In their ragged regimentals
Stood the old Continentals,
Yielding not,
When the grenadiers were lunging,
And like hail fell the plunging
Cannon shot;
When the files
Of the isles,
From the smoky night encampment, bore the banner of the rampant
Unicorn;
And grummer, grummer, grummer, rolled the roll of the drummer
Through the morn!

Then with eyes to the front all,
And with guns horizontal,
Stood our sires;
And the balls whistled deadly,
And in streams flashing redly,
Blazed the fires:
As the roar
On the shore
Swept the strong battle breakers o'er the green-sodded acres
Of the plain;
And louder, louder, louder, cracked the black gunpowder,
Cracking amain!

Now like smiths at their forges
Worked the red St. George's
Cannoneers,
And the villainous saltpetre
Rung a fierce, discordant meter
Round their ears;
As the swift
Storm drift,
With hot sweeping anger, came the horseguards' clangor
On our flanks;
Then higher, higher, higher, burned the old-fashioned fire
Through the ranks!

Then the bareheaded colonel
Galloped through the white infernal
Powder cloud;
And his broadsword was swinging,
And his brazen throat was ringing
Trumpet-loud;
Then the blue
Bullets flew,
And the trooper jackets redden at the touch of the leaden
Rifle breath;
And rounder, rounder, rounder, roared the iron six-pounder,
Hurling death!

Guy Humphreys McMaster

THE SWORD OF BUNKER HILL

He lay upon his dying bed;
His eye was growing dim,
When with a feeble voice he called
His weeping son to him:
"Weep not, my boy!" the vet'ran said,
"I bow to Heaven's high will--
But quickly from yon antlers bring
The sword of Bunker Hill."

The sword was brought, the soldier's eye
Lit with a sudden flame;
And as he grasped the ancient blade,
He murmured Warren's name;
Then said, "My boy, I leave you gold--
But what is richer still,
I leave you, mark me, mark me now--
The sword of Bunker Hill.

"'Twas on that dread, immortal day,
I dared the Briton's band,
A captain raised this blade on me--
I tore it from his hand:
And while the glorious battle raged,
It lightened freedom's will--
For, boy, the God of freedom blessed
The sword of Bunker Hill.

"Oh, keep the sword!"--his accents broke--
A smile--and he was dead--
But his wrinkled hand still grasped the blade
Upon that dying bed.
The son remains; the sword remains--
Its glory growing still--
And twenty millions bless the sire,
And sword of Bunker Hill.

William Ross Wallace

LIBERTY TREE[2]

In a chariot of light from the regions of day,
The Goddess of Liberty came;
Ten thousand celestials directed the way,
And hither conducted the dame.
A fair budding branch from the gardens above,
Where millions with millions agree,
She brought in her hand as a pledge of her love,
And the plant she named _Liberty Tree_.

The celestial exotic struck deep in the ground,
Like a native it flourished and bore;
The fame of its fruit drew the nation's around,
To seek out this peaceable shore.
Unmindful of names or distinctions they came,
For freemen like brothers agree;
With one spirit endued, they one friendship pursued,
And their temple was _Liberty Tree_.

Beneath this fair tree, like the patriarchs of old,
Their bread in contentment they ate
Unvexed with the troubles of silver and gold,
The cares of the grand and the great.
With timber and tar they Old England supplied,
And supported her power on the sea;
Her battles they fought, without getting a groat,
For the honor of _Liberty Tree_.

But hear, O ye swains, 'tis a tale most profane,
How all the tyrannical powers,
Kings, Commons and Lords, are uniting amain,
To cut down this guardian of ours;
From the east to the west blow the trumpet to arms,
Through the land let the sound of it flee,
Let the far and the near, all unite with a cheer,
In defense of our _Liberty Tree_.

Thomas Paine

THE RISING IN 1776.[3]

Out of the North the wild news came,
Far flashing on its wings of flame,
Swift as the boreal light which flies
At midnight through the startled skies.
And there was tumult in the air,
The fife's shrill note, the drum's loud beat,
And through the wide land everywhere
The answering tread of hurrying feet;
While the first oath of Freedom's gun,
Came on the blast from Lexington;
And Concord, roused, no longer tame,
Forgot her old baptismal name,
Made bare her patriot arm of power,
And swelled the discord of the hour.

Within its shade of elm and oak
The church of Berkeley Manor stood;
There Sunday found the rural folk,
And some esteemed of gentle blood.
In vain their feet with loitering tread
Passed 'mid the graves where rank is naught;
All could not read the lesson taught
In that republic of the dead.

How sweet the hour of Sabbath talk,
The vale with peace and sunshine full
Where all the happy people walk,
Decked in their homespun flax and wool!
Where youth's gay hats with blossoms bloom;
And every maid with simple art,
Wears on her breast, like her own heart,
A bud whose depths are all perfume;
While every garment's gentle stir
Is breathing rose and lavender.

The pastor came; his snowy locks
Hallowed his brow of thought and care;
And calmly, as shepherds lead their flocks,
He led into the house of prayer.
The pastor rose; the prayer was strong;
The psalm was warrior David's song;
The text, a few short words of might--
"The Lord of hosts shall arm the right!"

He spoke of wrongs too long endured,
Of sacred rights to be secured;
Then from his patriot tongue of flame
The startling words for Freedom came.
The stirring sentences he spake
Compelled the heart to glow or quake,
And, rising on his theme's broad wing,
And grasping in his nervous hand
The imaginary battle brand,
In face of death he dared to fling
Defiance to a tyrant king.

Even as he spoke, his frame, renewed
In eloquence of attitude,
Rose, as it seemed, a shoulder higher;
Then swept his kindling glance of fire
From startled pew to breathless choir;
When suddenly his mantle wide
His hands impatient flung aside,
And, lo! he met their wondering eyes
Complete in all a warrior's guise.

A moment there was awful pause--
When Berkeley cried, "Cease, traitor! cease!
God's temple is the house of peace!"
The other shouted, "Nay, not so,
When God is with our righteous cause;
His holiest places then are ours,
His temples are our forts and towers.
That frown upon the tyrant foe;
In this, the dawn of Freedom's day,
There is a time to fight and pray!"

And now before the open door--
The warrior priest had ordered so--
The enlisting trumpet's sudden roar
Rang through the chapel, o'er and o'er,
Its long reverberating blow,
So loud and clear, it seemed the ear
Of dusty death must wake and hear.
And there the startling drum and fife
Fired the living with fiercer life;
While overhead, with wild increase,
Forgetting its ancient toll of peace,
The great bell swung as ne'er before;
It seemed as it would never cease;
And every word its ardor flung
From off its jubilant iron tongue
Was, "War! War! War!"

"Who dares?"--this was the patriot's cry,
As striding from the desk he came--
"Come out with me, in Freedom's name,
For her to live, for her to die?"
A hundred hands flung up reply,
A hundred voices answered, "I!"

Thomas Buchanan Read

AMERICA[4]

Foreseen in the vision of sages,
Foretold when martyrs bled,
She was born of the longing of ages,
By the truth of the noble dead
And the faith of the living fed!
No blood in her lightest veins
Frets at remembered chains,
Nor shame of bondage has bowed her head.
In her form and features still
The unblenching Puritan will,
Cavalier honor, Huguenot grace,
The Quaker truth and sweetness,
And the strength of the danger-girdled race
Of Holland, blend in a proud completeness.

From the homes of all, where her being began,
She took what she gave to Man;
Justice, that knew no station,
Belief, as soul decreed,
Free air for aspiration,
Free force for independent deed!
She takes, but to give again,
As the sea returns the rivers in rain;
And gathers the chosen of her seed
From the hunted of every crown and creed.

Her Germany dwells by a gentler Rhine;
Her Ireland sees the old sunburst shine;
Her France pursues some dream divine;
Her Norway keeps his mountain pine;
Her Italy waits by the western brine;
And, broad-based under all,
Is planted England's oaken-hearted mood,
As rich in fortitude
As e'er went worldward from the island-wall!
Fused in her candid light,
To one strong race all races here unite;
Tongues melt in hers, hereditary foemen
Forget their sword and slogan, kith and clan.
'Twas glory, once to be a Roman:
She makes it glory, now, to be a man!

Bayard Taylor

THE BLUE AND THE GRAY

By the flow of the inland river,
Whence the fleets of iron have fled,
Where the blades of the grave grass quiver,
Asleep are the ranks of the dead:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Under the one, the Blue,
Under the other, the Gray.

These in the robings of glory,
Those in the gloom of defeat,
All with the battle blood gory,
In the dusk of eternity meet:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Under the laurel, the Blue,
Under the willow, the Gray.

From the silence of sorrowful hours
The desolate mourners go,
Lovingly laden with flowers
Alike for the friend and the foe:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Under the roses, the Blue,
Under the lilies, the Gray.

So with an equal splendor
The morning sun rays fall,
With a touch impartially tender,
On the blossoms blooming for all:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Broidered with gold, the Blue,
Mellowed with gold, the Gray.

So, when the summer calleth,
On forest and field of grain,
With an equal murmur falleth
The cooling drip of the rain:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Wet with the rain, the Blue,
Wet with the rain, the Gray.

Sadly, but not with upbraiding,
The generous deed was done,
In the storm of the years that are fading,
No braver battle was won
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Under the blossoms, the Blue,
Under the garlands, the Gray.

No more shall the war cry sever,
Or the winding rivers be red;
They banish our anger forever
When they laurel the graves of our dead!
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Love and tears for the Blue,
Tears and love for the Gray.

Francis Miles Finch

ABRAHAM LINCOLN[5]

Life may be given in many ways,
And loyalty to Truth be sealed
As bravely in the closet as the field,
So bountiful is Fate;
But then to stand beside her,
When craven churls deride her,
To front a lie in arms and not to yield,
This shows, methinks, God's plan
And measure of a stalwart man,
Limbed like the old heroic breeds,
Who stand self-poised on manhood's solid earth,
Not forced to frame excuses for his birth,
Fed from within with all the strength he needs.
Such was he, our martyr chief,
Whom late the Nation he had led,
With ashes on her head,
Wept with the passion of an angry grief:
Forgive me, if from present things I turn
To speak what in my heart will beat and burn,
And hang my wreath on his world-honored urn.
Nature, they say, doth dote,
And cannot make a man
Save on some worn-out plan,
Repeating us by rote:
For him her Old-World molds aside she threw,
And, choosing sweet clay from the breast
Of the unexhausted West,
With stuff untainted shaped a hero new,
Wise, steadfast in the strength of God, and true.
How beautiful to see
Once more a shepherd of mankind indeed,
Who loved his charge, but never loved to lead;
One whose meek flock the people joyed to be,
Not lured by any cheat of birth,
But by his clear-grained human worth,
And brave old wisdom of sincerity!
They knew that outward grace is dust;
They could not choose but trust
In that sure-footed mind's unfaltering skill,
And supple-tempered will
That bent like perfect steel to spring again and thrust.
His was no lonely mountain peak of mind,
Thrusting to thin air o'er our cloudy bars,
A sea mark now, now lost in vapor's blind;
Broad prairie rather, genial, level-lined,
Fruitful and friendly for all human kind,
Yet also nigh to Heaven and loved of loftiest stars.
Nothing of Europe here,
Or, then, of Europe fronting mornward still,
Ere any names of serf and peer
Could Nature's equal scheme deface
And thwart her genial will;
Here was a type of the true elder race,
And one of Plutarch's men talked with us face to face.
I praise him not; it were too late;
And some innative weakness there must be
In him who condescends to victory
Such as the Present gives, and cannot wait,
Safe in himself as in a fate.
So always firmly he:
He knew to bide his time,
And can his fame abide,
Still patient in his simple faith sublime,
Till the wise years decide.
Great captains, with their guns and drums,
Disturb our judgment for the hour,
But at last silence comes!
These all are gone, and standing like a tower,
Our children shall behold his fame,
The kindly-earnest, brave, foreseeing man,
Sagacious, patient, dreading praise, not blame,
New birth of our new soil, the first American.

James Russell Lowell

THE FLAG GOES BY

Hats off!
Along the street there comes
A blare of bugles, a ruffle of drums,
A flash of color beneath the sky:
Hats off!
The flag is passing by!

Blue and crimson and white it shines,
Over the steel-tipped, ordered lines,
Hats off!
The colors before us fly;
But more than the flag is passing by.

Sea fights and land fights, grim and great,
Fought to make and save the State:
Weary marches and sinking ships;
Cheers of victory on dying lips;

Days of plenty and years of peace;
March of a strong land's swift increase;
Equal justice, right, and law,
Stately honor and reverend awe;

Sign of a nation, great and strong
To ward her people from foreign wrong:
Pride and glory and honor--all
Live in the colors to stand or fall.
Hats off!
Along the street there comes
A blare of bugles, a ruffle of drums;
And loyal hearts are beating high:
Hats off!
The flag is passing by!

Henry Holcomb Bennett

THE SHIP OF STATE

Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State!
Sail on, O UNION, strong and great!
Humanity with all its fears,
With all the hopes of future years,
Is hanging breathless on thy fate!
We know what Master laid thy keel,
What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel,
Who made each mast, and sail, and rope,
What anvils rang, what hammers beat,
In what a forge and what a heat
Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!
Fear not each sudden sound and shock,
'Tis of the wave and not the rock;
'Tis but the flapping of the sail,
And not a rent made by the gale!
In spite of rock and tempest's roar
In spite of false lights on the shore,
Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea!
Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee,
Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears,
Our faith triumphant o'er our fears,
Are all with thee--are all with thee!

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

THE NAME OF OLD GLORY[6]

Old Glory! say who,
By the ships and the crew,
And the long, blended ranks of the grey and the blue--
Who gave you, Old Glory, the name that you bear
With such pride everywhere
As you cast yourself free to the rapturous air
And leap out full length as we're wanting you to?
Who gave you that name, with the ring of the same,
And the honor and fame so becoming to you?--
Your stripes streaked in ripples of white and of red,
With your stars at their glittering best overhead--
By day or by night,
Their delightfulest light
Laughing down from their little square heaven of blue!
Who gave you the name of Old Glory?--say who--
Who gave you the name of Old Glory?

The old banner lifted, and faltering then,
In vague lisps and whispers fell silent again.

Old Glory,--speak out!--we are asking about
How you happened to "favor" a name, so to say,
That sounds so familiar and careless and gay
As we cheer it and shout in our wild, breezy way--
We--the _crowd_, every man of us, calling you that--
We--Tom, Dick and Harry--each swinging his hat--
And hurrahing "Old Glory," like you were our kind,
When--Lord--we all know we're as common as sin!

And yet it just seems like you _humor_ us all
And waft us your thanks as we hail you and fall
Into line, with you over us, waving us on
Where our glorified, sanctified betters have gone--
And this is the reason we're wanting to know--
(And we're wanting it so!
Where our own fathers went, we are willing to go)
Who gave you the name of Old Glory--Oho!
Who gave you the name of Old Glory?

The old flag unfurled in a billowy thrill
For an instant, then wistfully sighed and was still.

Old Glory--the story we're wanting to hear
Is what the plain facts of your christening were--
For your name--just to hear it,
Repeat it, and cheer it, 's a tang to the spirit
As salt as a tear;--
And seeing you fly, and the boys marching by,
There's a shout in the throat and a blur in the eye
And an aching to live for you always--or die,
If, dying, we still keep you waving on high.
And so, by our love
For you, floating above,
And the scars of all wars and the sorrows thereof,
Who gave you the name of Old Glory, and why
Are we thrilled at the name of Old Glory?
Then the old banner leaped, like a sail in the blast,
And fluttered an audible answer at last.

And it spake, with a shake of the voice, and it said:--
By the driven snow-white and the living blood-red
Of my bars, and their heaven of stars overhead--
By the symbol conjoined of them all, skyward cast,
As I float from the steeple, or flap at the mast,
Or droop o'er the sod where the long grasses nod,--
My name is as old as the glory of God,
... So I came by the name of Old Glory.

James Whitcomb Riley

Footnotes:

[1] By Ralph Waldo Emerson, at the dedication, April 19, 1836, of the monument erected at Concord in honor of the patriots who fell in the battle of Lexington sixty-one years before.

[2] Published in the Pennsylvania Magazine, 1775.

[3] Used with the courteous permission of the publishers, The J. B. Lippincott Co., Philadelphia.

[4] From the National Ode, July 4, 1876.

[5] From the Ode recited at the Harvard Commemoration, July 21, 1865.

[6] From the Biographical Edition of the Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley. Copyright 1913. Used by special permission of the publishers, The Bobbs-Merrill Company.