A Poem at Dawn
He was a lawyer,
not a soldier. Although his young country was at war, and the enemy had attacked
and destroyed part of the capital, his one concern that September afternoon was
the release of his friend, a doctor taken by the enemy after their raid on the
city. After successfully negotiating the doctor's release under a white flag, he
was informed rather curtly that the two would not be allowed to leave until the
next morning, owing to an impending bombardment and assault on a minor fort
along the river. Frustrated, and humiliated by the negotiation process, the
young man paced the deck of the small ship at anchor. He was upset and ashamed
at the haughty and dismissive manner in which he was treated.
He heard the enemy
naval officers make disparaging remarks about the ease by which the fort would
fall and the relatively poor showing by the American troops in the war. These
remarks were intended for the young man's ears, and with a burning shame, he
knew it. He looked afar at the small flag flying over the still peaceful fort
and wondered to himself how long it would continue to fly.
Having nothing else
to do, he watched the preparations for the assault from the railing. The enemy
bomb ketches, ships with huge squat mortars at their center, were being aligned
and sighted to lob high arching shells to the interior of the fort. Other
warships began to position themselves to fire their broadsides directly at the
walls of the small fort. Some were
even equipped with rocket batteries to deliver a series of salvos into the
beleaguered garrison. As dusk descended, the operation began.
From his distant
vantage point, the sound of the battle was muffled and delayed, a mere echo of
the flash of the cannon and mortars. What caught the young man's attention was
the visual spectacle of the battle. Unaccustomed
to military affairs, he was stunned by the visual imagery of the exploding
shells and rockets as they streaked towards their target. The brilliant flashes
of red-orange and the drifting haze of smoke gave the battle a shocking and
unearthly pall. As the young man watched in horrified fascination, he was
transfixed by a single image, illuminated again and again by the explosions and
the flash of firing cannon from the fort. It
was the small flag of his country waving defiantly as the enemy intensified the
attack.
Throughout the long
night, the battle raged. The young man saw shell after shell explode inside the
fort, and was horrified at the damage to the exterior walls as they were
illuminated by each explosion. Towards
dawn, the firing died away, and the tired young man waited anxiously during the
long pauses between flashes. He began to doubt whether the next would illuminate
the tiny flag of his country, or the flag of the enemy, signifying that the
brave fort had fallen at last.
As dawn approached,
and the sky lightened to a drab twilight, he strained his eyes through a
borrowed telescope to see a dark cloth banner being raised above the fort. His
heart sank at the vision. The flag atop the fort was noticeably larger than the
one flown the previous night. Surely the fort had fallen and the flag now flying
above was the ensign from one of the ships that sent marines to storm the
battlements. He saw a glimpse of color in the flag, vague patterns of red,
white, and blue on the limp cloth. The colors of the enemy ensign, the Union
Jack. At that moment the first rays of the sun fell on the top of the flagpole,
and the first morning breeze lifted the flag to full span.... and he saw stars.
Brilliant white stars on a field of blue with white and red stripes in the full
illumination of the sun over a fort still wreathed in shadow. No enemy ensign
had such ornamentation.
To the young
lawyer's immense joy and to the surprised consternation of the enemy officers
and sailors aboard the ship, the flag that flew over the forts was a huge
version of the tattered storm flag of the night before. Specially made a year
earlier at the request of the commander of the fort, the 15 star, 15 stripe, 42
foot long, and 30-foot wide banner fluttered proudly in the light dawn air above
the crumbled fort walls. The fort had survived the night's attack, and as an
inspiration for his men the fort's commander hoisted the larger flag just before
dawn. With an emotional shout by the young man, he saw the flag of his country
still flying free in the wind.
The lawyer's gift
to mark the event was penned within minutes of seeing the sun-illuminated flag
fly over the fort that September morning. Overcome with excitement and emotion,
he worded his account as a poem, in tribute to the vision that was forever
engraved in his memory. Within a few weeks, it was set to music. Perhaps with a
final touch of defiant irony, the lawyer chose a drinking song melody he may
have heard while aboard the ship that night. In any case, the poem and the song
became wildly popular, as did the author, Francis Scott Key.
Eventually, the
song became our national anthem; The Star Spangled Banner
Few people realize
that behind many a great poem is usually an even greater story or event. This is
not really that surprising, since good poetry is so often an expression of deep
emotion. Stirred by events witnessed or related to them, poets record their
emotions in rhyme and meter, as if implying that prose could not approach the
subject with the proper reverence of expression. In time, however, the story is
sometimes forgotten or set aside, and the poetry loses some of the impact it
once had.
Such forgetfulness
has fallen on our national anthem, the Star Spangled Banner. The words have
become something to be sung only at sporting events without really feeling the
emotion related in their poetry. Since
these emotions are not felt, they are often misconstrued and even derided at
times. It has even been suggested that our anthem is "too
militaristic", without realizing that the words are those of a civilian, in
wondrous awe of the power of perseverance shown by a beleaguered garrison, and
the hope of a new dawn for that singular and hallowed idea: freedom.
Perhaps if we knew
the story, and read the poetry as it was intended, we can share in the pride and
soaring emotion that the author felt that morning. Maybe it will help us sing
the song with a little more understanding and reverence, and cherish it as the
enduring symbol of our country and its people during times of trial and trouble.
Patrick
J. Sullivan
© 2001
The Star Spangled
Banner
By Francis Scott Key
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 thru 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 the 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, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the
gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory
reflected now shines in 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 could
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
home and the war's desolation!
Blest with victory
and peace, may the heav'n 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