This video purports to have in it every known photograph of Mr. Lincoln. The songs in the video are Lincoln and Liberty Too, perhaps the most stirring campaign song in American history, Dixie, ironically a favorite song of the President of the Union, and the haunting Ashokan Farewell.
Something for weekend. A favorite marching song of the Union troops in the early months of the Civil War, before the tune became attached to the Battle Hymn of the Republic. That this song was sung in the Civil War that John Brown did so much to ignite, I am sure pleased his grim spirit to no end.
American history has its share of odd characters, but surely none odder than John Brown. An Old Testament prophet somehow marooned in Nineteenth Century America, John Brown preached the wrath of God against slave holders and considered himself the bloody sword of the Almighty. It is tempting to write off John Brown as a murderous fanatic, and he was certainly that, but he was also something more.
The American political process was simply unable to resolve the question of slavery. Each year the anti-slavery and pro-slavery forces battered at each other with no head way made. Bleeding Kansas was the result of Stephen A. Douglas’ plan to simply let the people of the territory resolve the issue. Where ballots cannot, or will not, resolve a question of the first magnitude in a democracy, ultimately bullets will. A man like Brown, totally dedicated to the anti-slavery cause, was only too willing to see violence resolve an issue that the politicians would not.
After his mad and futile attempt to start a slave insurrection at Harper’s Ferry in 1859, Brown was tried and hung for treason against the state of Virginia. He considered his trial and treatment quite fair and thanked the Court. Brown impressed quite a few Southerners with the courage with which he met his death, including Thomas Jackson, the future Stonewall, who observed his execution.
Brown of course lit the fuse for the Civil War. He convinced many moderate Southerners that there were forces in the North all too ready to incite, in the name of abolition, a race war in the South. The guns fired at Harper’s Ferry were actually the first shots of the Civil War.
Brown, as he stepped forward to the gallows, had a paper and pen thrust into his hand by a woman. Assuming for the last time the role of a prophet, Brown wrote out, “I, John Brown, am now quite certain that the crimes of this guilty land will never be purged away but with blood.”
Stephen Vincent Benet in his epic poem on the Civil War, John Brown’s Body, captures the man completely in this prayer: (more…)
Sometimes a work of art depicting an historical event gets most of the facts wrong but nonetheless captures completely the essense of the event. In the case of Emanuel Leutze’s masterpiece, he depicts the turning point of the Revolution as being caused by the resolution of General Washington, and he is absolutely correct. My middle school had a large black and white copy of the painting, and I never glanced at it without being moved with emotion. It is a trite saying that a work “brings history alive”. In the case of Mr. Leutze’s painting, the trite is also true.
Continuing my look at the political thought of Thomas Jefferson (part one can be found here), we will now examine what I’d call Jefferson’s “presentism.” Perhaps a better way to describe it is a disdain or disregard for the “permanent things.” Jefferson does not seem to have an abiding veneration for tradition; rather, Jefferson’s political philosophy is one that is highly sensitive to the will of the moment. This is not to say that Jefferson completely rejects tradition, but nonetheless his political theory is one that does not bind generations to the past or the future. Each generation, Jefferson holds, is independent of every other and thus no generation can bind the next, or be bound by the previous.
Such thinking is in line with that of Voltaire, Thomas Paine, and Rousseau. Voltaire writes that the codes of law in every country are poor because they were made “in accordance with time, place and needs,” and became stagnant. He adds, “when needs changed, the laws which remained became ridiculous laws. Thus the laws which forbade the eating of pork and the drinking of wine was quite reasonable in Arabia where pork and wine were harmful. It is ridiculous in Constantinople.” Laws must adapt to the times.
Thomas Paine argues vociferously against Edmund Burke in The Rights of Man, his response to Burke’s Reflections on the Revolution in France. His is a thorough refutation of Burke’s writings on tradition and permanency. Contrary to Burke, Paine does not believe a government or a parliament could bind men for all times. “Every age and generation must be as free to act for itself, in all cases, as the ages and generation which preceded it. The vanity and presumptions of governing beyond the grave is the most ridiculous and insolent of all tyrannies.” Paine goes on to – incorrectly – accuse Burke of denying the living the power to repeal any ancient laws. This is an exaggeration of the Burkean philosophy. Burke does not hold that all laws must forever be respected, but he does insist that we should respect ancient customs and adapt, but slowly.
The essential idea, however, is very important and would be echoed by Jefferson. The idea that the dead have no right to govern beyond the grave is clearly reflected in a letter to Madison:
The question Whether one generation of men has a right to bind one another, seems never to have been started either on this or our side of the water. Yet it is a question of such consequences as not only to merit decision, but place also, among the fundamental principles of every government . . . I set out on this ground which I suppose to be self-evident, “that the earth belongs in usufruct to the living;” that the dead have neither powers nor rights over it.”
Such a philosophy indicates that man is not much beholden to his ancestors, and an examination of Jefferson’s speeches and writing verifies this conclusion. In his Second Inaugural address, Jefferson discusses the problems in dealing with the Native Americans and their obstinate refusal to part with ancient customs. “These persons,” he says, “inculcate a sanctimonious reverence for the customs of their ancestors; that whatsoever they did, must be done through all time; that reason is a false guide, and to advance under its counsel, in their physical, moral, or political condition, is perilous innovation; that their duty is to remain as their Creator made them, ignorance being safety, and knowledge full of danger.” Though speaking of Native Americans, he may very well be speaking about his fellow Americans, as this calls to mind his words about “sanctimonious reverence” for the laws.
Jefferson is hostile to that which inhibits the freedom of the human mind or spirit, be they perpetual constitutions or strict laws. This belief reveals itself in Jefferson’s opposition to patent and copyright laws, which he believes prevent the spread of ideas.
That ideas should freely spread from one to another over the globe, for the moral and mutual instruction of man, and improvement of his condition, seems to have been peculiarly and benevolently designed by nature, when she made them, like fire, expansible over all space, without lessening their density in any point, and like the air in which we breathe, move and have our physical being, incapable of confinement or exclusive appropriation. Inventions then cannot, in nature, be a subject of property.
His thoughts on patent laws demonstrate his sense that it is a dangerous idea to permanently affix any law or custom on society. Ideas must flow freely in the interest of progress; similarly constitutions must be alterable in order for society to progress.
This reflects Jefferson’s fundamentally democratic outlook. Much as he puts abundant stock in the reason of man, and therefore in the governing ability of man, he then allows the democratic majority to determine the outlines of the nation’s constitution. As I will show in a future post, Jefferson’s faith in the democratic will, combined with his unfavorable view of tradition and custom, inspires a constitutional philosophy that can be summed up as one of rigid adherence to a frequently altered constitution.
In the next post I will look at the consequences of his antagonism to perpetual constitutions. He advocates frequent revisions in the Constitution, and this underlines his belief that the will of the past generation should have little or no bearing on the present. It is a philosophy that eschews the traditionalism of Burke and, for the most part, the Framers.
 Voltaire, “Pocket Philosophic Dictionary,” in Political Writings, ed. and trans. David Williams (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994), 19.
 Thomas Paine, The Rights of Man, ed. Gregory Claeys (Indianapolis: Hackett, 1992), 63.
 Ibid., 66.
 Thomas Jefferson to James Madison, Paris, 6 September, 1789, in Jefferson: Writings, ed. Merrill D. Peterson (New York: Literary Classics of the United States, Inc, 1984), 959.
 Jefferson, “Second Inaugural Address,” 4 March, 1805, in Jefferson Writings, 520.
 Jefferson to Isaac McPherson, Monticello, 13 August, 1813, in Jefferson Writings, 1291.
Few men in American history have gone from complete obscurity to being a central figure in the life of the nation faster than Ulysses Simpson Grant. Known as Sam Grant by his West Point friends, his first two initials making Sam an inevitable nickname, Grant had an unerring ability to fail at everything he put his hand to, except for war, his marriage and his last gallant race against the Grim Reaper to finish his memoirs and provide financially for his wife and children. Most great figures in our history have known success more than failure. Not so Sam Grant. He would encounter humiliating defeats throughout his life, from beginning to end. At the beginning of the Civil War, he was a clerk, barely able to support his family. This section of John Brown’s Body, the epic poem on the Civil War by Stephen Vincent Benet, chronicles the unlikely rise of a military genius who knew unending defeat except in war. (more…)
A musical tribute to the Signers of the Declaration of Independence. Here is a list of the Signers by State with short bios. The last survivor of the Signers was Charles Carroll of Carrollton from Maryland who died at 95 on November 14, 1832. Carroll also had the distinction of being the sole Catholic Signer of the Declaration.
Alexander Hamilton continues his series of papers on the nature of the legislative power concerning national defense with Federalist 26. Here he concerns himself with the idea of restraining the legislature with respect to the common defense. Though he specifically addresses the contrast between states that have placed such limits (Pennsylvania and North Carolina) and those that have not, there is an interesting theoretical undercurrent. Hamilton is concerned about striking an appropriate balance between granting extensive legislative authority and preserving liberty, something he alludes to in the opening paragraph of this essay.
It was a thing hardly to be expected that in a popular revolution the minds of men should stop at that happy mean which marks the salutary boundary between power and privilege, and combines the energy of government with the security of private rights. A failure in this delicate and important point is the great source of the inconveniences we experience, and if we are not cautious to avoid a repetition of the error, in our future attempts to rectify and ameliorate our system, we may travel from one chimerical project to another; we may try change after change; but we shall never be likely to make any material change for the better.
In the next paragraph, Hamilton hints that we are moving too far in one direction. (more…)
I normally take great pride in being an American, but there are passages in our history which all Americans should be ashamed of. During our Civil War in many prison camps, both North and South, POWs were treated wretchedly with inadequate shelter, clothing and food. The worst by far was Andersonville.
The vast tragedy at Andersonville came about for a number of reasons.
First and foremost was the breakdown of the prisoner exchange system. From the summer of 1862 to the summer of 1863, captured Union and Confederate troops would be released within 10 days after giving their parole. This was a promise not to fight until after they had properly been exchanged for a prisoner on the other side. The system operated by exchanging paroles from prisoners of equivalent ranks or of different ranks as follows: 1 general = 46 privates, 1 major general = 40 privates, 1 brigadier general = 20 privates, 1 colonel = 15 privates, 1 lieutenant colonel = 10 privates, 1 major = 8 privates, 1 captain = 6 privates, 1 lieutenant = 4 privates, 1 noncommissioned officer = 2 privates. The system worked reasonably well until the issue of the treatment of black troops came up. The Confederates refused to recognize black soldiers as Union troops under the system and reduced many of them to slavery. The Union as a result refused to abide by the system. General Grant also had suspicions that the system wasn’t being completely honored in any case. After Vicksburg he had paroled the entire Confederate army that had been captured after the fall of that city. In the fighting around Chattanooga later that year he was dismayed to find among the captured Confederate troops men who had surrendered at Vicksburg and who had not been exchanged. Realizing that the Confederates needed their prisoners back in their ranks , and that the Union had an endless supply of manpower, he thought that it was a benefit for the Union that the system had broken down and adamantly refused Confederate attempts in 1864 to revive prisoner exchanges. A good article on the exchange of prisoners is here.
Second was the series of small POW camps in the vicinity of Richmond, which, with the break down in the prisoner exchange system, were soon overflowing with Union prisoners. In November 1863 Captain Richard Widner came to the hamlet (population 20) of Andersonville, Georgia to investigate the prospects of building a large POW camp there. He liked what he saw: plenty of water near at hand, located near a railhead and situated in the Deep South, far away from the Union armies. In December of 1863 he began construction of Andersonville Prison. (The official name of the prison was Camp Sumter.) Local slaves were brought in to clear the land in January 1864 and to build the stockade. The Prison encompassed 16.5 acres with a small creek flowing through the site to provide water. No barracks were built to shelter the prisoners. The capacity of prisoners that could be held there was estimated to be 10,000. The first Union prisoners were shipped to in February 1864. With heavy fighting that began in May as Grant battled his way towards Richmond, the number of prisoners swelled to well beyond the capacity of the prison. By June the prison population had ballooned to 20,000. The boundary of the prison was extended using prison labor labor 610 feet to the north during June. By August 33,000 Union prisoners were held within the stockade of Andersonville.
Third, for security reasons, the prisoners were not given the materials to build barracks. Andersonville’s prison guards consisted of overaged men and underaged boys, and permanent barracks where the prisoners could live, and plot escape attempts unobserved, were thought by the authorities to be too much of risk with prison guards of this calibre. The Union prisoners, except for what makeshift shelters they could improvise, were exposed to the elements at all times.
Fourth, the creek flowing through Andersonville served both as a source of water and as a latrine. The Union troops, with appropriate black humor, labeled the creek “Sweet Water Branch’.
Fifth, medical care at Andersonville was basically non-existent, with the small medical staff completely overwhelmed.
Sixth, the Union soldiers were in theory to get the same daily ration as a Confederate soldier. What they received, if they were lucky, was rancid grain and a spoonful or two of peas or beans. To be fair, the Confederates during this stage of the war had a great deal of difficulty providing rations to their own troops.
Seventh, incompetence on the part of the camp’s commander Captain Heinrich “Henry” Wirz. Ironically trained as a medical doctor in Europe prior to the Civil War, the Swiss born Wirz took command of Andersonville in March 1864. Tried and executed after the war, the only Confederate to be executed following the war, Wirz has been called both an innocent scapegoat and a demon of cruelty incarnate. I will not venture into that battleground. I will note that in the face of the humanitarian disaster that developed at Andersonville Wirz did little and seemed to spend most of his time trying to get promoted, eventually getting his wish and attaining the rank of Major shortly before the end of the War.
All of these factors led to the deaths of almost 13,000 of the approximately 45,000 Union soldiers who passed through Andersonville. Surgeon Joseph Jones of the Confederate Army on an inspection tour wrote a report to the Surgeon General of the Confederacy on October19, 1864 regarding conditions at Andersonville: (more…)
In many ways Bacon’s Rebellion in Virginia in 1676 was an eerie first run, a century early, of the same type of conflicts which would lead to the American Revolution. Complaints by colonists of high taxes, a Royal Governor acting in defiance of a colonial legislature, a Virginia planter leading the forces in revolt, etc. It was also a fierce struggle for power between Royal Governor William Berkeley, and Nathaniel Bacon, a new comer to the colony from England, who was the leader of the rebels. If Bacon at 29 hadn’t died suddenly on October 26, 1676 of dysentery, it is hard to say how much larger a role he would have played in American history. Without him the revolt collapsed and Berkeley wreaked a bloody vengeance, executing 23 men. He was recalled the next year to England by Charles II, the Merry Monarch, according to tradition, quipping, “That old fool has put to death more people in that naked country than I did here for the murder of my father.”
Here is the Declaration of the People drawn up by Bacon on July 30, 1676 to explain why action had to be taken against Governor Berkeley. I have always thought Jefferson borrowed parts of the style of this document in the indictments against the actions of King George III in the Declaration of Independence. (more…)