Is the word "all" the most important word in the Declaration of Independence?

 

Abraham Lincoln and Jefferson Davis were interesting characters. Exactly the type of characters a novelist needs to carry a story. In writing Maelstrom, I had a scene where Lincoln addresses Congress after a recess. (As customary at the time, his address was read by a clerk.) Not much has happened during the recess. Eleven states had seceded from the Union, Fort Sumter had been bombarded and surrendered, a piece of Virginia had been occupied, and Lincoln had exceeded his executive powers to spend unauthorized money, build an army, and suspend habeas corpus among other things.

He desperately needed Congress to backfill behind him.

This was a crucial address. Important for Lincoln and the country. The address was not one of his well-known speeches, but I was struck by the clarity and simplicity of the explanation of why he took these actions.

Lincoln said it was a struggle for maintaining a form of government “whose leading object is to elevate the condition of men—to lift artificial weights from all shoulders—to clear the paths of laudable pursuit for all—to afford all an unfettered start, and a fair chance in the race of life.”

On the cusp of war, Lincoln repeatedly used the word “all.” He had previously stated that this was the most important word in the preamble to the Declaration of Independence and had reputedly written that word over and over again on pieces of paper.

I cannot think of a loftier goal for government. Perhaps in this age of divisiveness, we should all write the word “all” over and over again.

Lincoln on the Verge, Ted Widmer

Lincoln on the Verge, Thirteen Days to Washington

Over 15,000 books have been written about Abraham Lincoln, supposedly more than any other person except Jesus. This tower of books at the Ford's Theatre Center for Education and Leadership is a tribute to the man and the authors who have written about him. (This is actually a metal sculpture using replicas of about half the books.) The Center is across the street from Ford’s Theater where the president was assassinated.

Because I intend to add to the pile, I own about forty of these books. Every Lincoln author looks for a unique perspective. Some see themselves as myth busters. Others delve into a niche of his supposed psyche to unearth a differently tempered person. Responsible historians frequently zero in on a single event or unusual theme to add fresh insights. Entire books are dedicated to a single speech, battle, or political issue.

Ted Widmer made a great choice of subject matter. Lincoln on the Verge concentrates on the thirteen days it took Lincoln to journey by train from Springfield to Washington. It’s a fascinating story and it illustrates the political savvy of this supposed country bumpkin. Widmer introduces us to the president-elect as he travels across a great land he knows will soon be thrown into turmoil. What could Lincoln accomplish on this tedious trip? You’ll discover he could do quite a bit. He engineered the journey of the Presidential Special so he could more easily save the nation after inauguration.

Widmer has a clear and concise writing style that keeps the narrative moving, and his matter-of-fact presentation allows the reader to mine for new insights without being led to the trough. 

If you’re a Lincoln enthusiast, or merely curious, you’ll enjoy this book.

              (This is a research book for Maelstrom, a sequel to Tempest at Dawn.)

War on the Waters, James M. McPherson

 

With the exception of the Monitor vs. Merrimack (CSS Virginia), naval battles get short shrift in Civil War books. McPherson certainly fills that gap with War on the Waters, The Union and Confederate Navies, 1861-1865. Land battles were certainly decisive, but the Union may have lost the war without Gideon Welles and the Navy Department. McPherson even makes a strong argument that Rear Admiral David Glasgow Farragut deserves to be ranked with generals Grant and Sherman when giving credit for the Union victory.

Inventions and innovations by both the Confederate States and the United States revolutionized naval warfare. Steam-powered ships, screw propeller driven ships, ironclads, submarines, weaponry, and naval tactics all made major advancement during those four years. By Appomattox, the United States owned the largest navy in the world, and arguably the most technologically advanced.

War on the Waters does an admirable job of describing blue water and brown water (river) battles and in explaining the significance of each clash. I found the battles that required cooperation between the Army and Navy of particular interest. As an added bonus, International law on blockades is more fully described than in other history books.

McPherson’s no nonsense writing style can sometimes verge on dull, but he always pulls the reader back to the narrative in the nick of time.

I recommend this book to all those who have an interest in the Civil War, naval battles, technology advancement, or military politics. War on the Waters is informative and a good read.

(This is a research book for Maelstrom, a sequel to Tempest at Dawn.)