The Battle Cry of Freedom

The painting is of course Emmanuel Leutz's depiction of Washington Crossing the Delaware, in the depths of the revolutionary war against Britain, when hope might have been lost. It's taken from the site of the Ear Inn in Manhattan's SoHo district. James Brown, who once owned the house where the Inn now is (and which I think I got drunk in after a John Lennon day in New York once) was, by legend, an African American aide to Washington. He is depicted in the painting.

There were tears on my face this morning as I watched the nomination of Barack Obama for President of the United States by the Democratic Party. I have spent most of my life in love with an America of possibilities and decency. Its flame has been flickering if not guttering for some time. Frankly, a sort of populist fascism is abroad in the land, and not for the first time either. Yet, there it was--or at least, for once, the Democrats managed to convey it as so.

When I stole back, one dark night, to my grandfather's old house in Corby from my first year in Oxford, I had his warmth, a night shift, and a collection of books to look forward to. One was James M. McPherson's tremendous Battle Cry of Freedom, about the great war for the Union but also to end slavery. I fell even more deeply in love with the America in my head after reading that book than I was already.

My friend Dan Howe has just written another volume in the series, and over generously given me several credits in the work. I cannot recommend the book itself highly enough. I urge everyone to buy it who has any interest in America at all.

The idea of America powered me through the academic hurdles of Balliol--it got me a First in Finals--and Ireland and America and the Holy Roman and Apostolic Church ((c) New York and Chicago) got me a doctorate. It'll give some readers of this blog conniptions, but I love that Republic and it breaks my heart to see it ruining itself in stupidity and badness.

So, last night, when centuries of slavery were overturned, and when the promise of what America could be was evident--a radical promise that lifted, then disappointed, then lifted again many working-class people across Europe once--I felt like crying.

I also felt like putting a version of My Country 'Tis of Thee up on the blog. That song is to the tune of 'God Save the King', which the British use, but infinitely more uplifting. Not finding one I wanted, I looked for the Battle Cry of Freedom, which I learned in all versions--Union and Confederate-- and which I sometimes find myself humming. Here is a link to the lyrics.

That didn't seem right either. You don't go the revolution, or the constitution, to understand America fully. Nor do you embrace secondary, but beautiful songs. I may as well post Shenandoah. Instead, below, I have posted The Battle Hymn of the Republic, the American Hymn. Sung by Dionne Warwick in 1968, when all the present badness began.

May God Bless America, forever.