Why history matters... and how

Here's a wonderful talk by historian David McCullough from 2003, just sent to me by Nick Zahn. I strongly recommend it for such insights as "When the world is storm-driven and the bad that happens and the worse that threatens are so urgent as to shut out everything else from view, then we need to know all the strong fortresses of the spirit which men have built through the ages." Now that's history as it should be done. And as we need it in these characteristically troubled times. McCullough draws together all kinds of things in this talk including the famous 1819 painting Declaration of Independence by John Trumbull which has been on display in the U.S. Capitol since 1826. It's not an accurate depiction of an actual historical event, yet somehow it embodies the meaning of the Declaration in a way that continues to compel and attract attention almost 200 years later.

McCullough also describes George Washington's fascination with architecture and interior design, expressed particularly in his renovation of his Mount Vernon home in the midst of the pressing public concerns that led to the Revolutionary War. "He cared about every detail -- wall paper, paint color, hardware, ceiling ornaments -- and hated to be away from the project even for a day."

Which makes this a good moment to remind people of Brigitte's new C2C Journal piece The Political Power of Art. Such matters are not only a fitting concern for conservatives, they are an indispensable one, because as McCullough says, "it is in their [the American Founders'] ideas about happiness, I believe, that we come close to the heart of their being, and to their large view of the possibilities in their Glorious Cause."

Their ideas about happiness were not narrow and cramped. But nor were these men without flaws. McCullough's talk is the 2003 Jefferson Lecture in the Humanities, a series created by the National Endowment for the Humanities in 1972 and described by the NEH as "the highest honor the federal government confers for distinguished intellectual achievement in the humanities." And of course McCullough is not blind to the various Founders' failings including that Jefferson was "evasive, at times duplicitous" and like many others a "stunning" hypocrite in championing liberty while holding slaves.

These men were human, all too human. As are we. History is our story. For as McCullough also wisely notes, "One might also say that history is not about the past. If you think about it, no one ever lived in the past. Washington, Jefferson, John Adams, and their contemporaries didn't walk about saying, 'Isn't this fascinating living in the past! Aren't we picturesque in our funny clothes!' They lived in the present. The difference is it was their present, not ours. They were caught up in the living moment exactly as we are, and with no more certainty of how things would turn out than we have."

I won't reprint the whole thing here; I hope I have excerpted enough to send you to read it. It is wise and thoughtful and full of fascinating details about these real human beings including Washington's preoccupation with design of which I confess I was not aware. But I will conclude with one more crucial quotation from it: "Daniel Boorstin, the former Librarian of Congress, has wisely said that trying to plan for the future without a sense of the past is like trying to plant cut flowers."

This lecture shows how history should be done. And why it matters.

Arts & culture, Government, History, Life, Politics, United StatesJohn Robson
Up a tree in the name of liberty

Charles II of England was up a tree after the Battle of Worcester. No. Really.

The battle, on September 3 1651, was a decisive defeat for the last intact Royalist army, mostly Scottish, by Cromwell’s New Model Army, mostly Puritans. And the king watched it from the spire of Worcester Cathedral which I suppose is as good a place as any from which to watch your army and hopes be crushed unless, of course, you wanted to be among them and risk sharing their fate. (And no, Charles II in 1651 is not a typo – he claimed the throne as soon as his father was beheaded in 1649, even if he didn’t sit in it until Cromwell had died and his son “Tumbledown Dick” had tumbled off the stage (see the May 25, 2016 It Happened Today.)

As for the tree, he climbed it later, during his flight first north and then to France where he spent nearly a decade. It was a massive oak called the Boscobel Oak or more often The Royal Oak, popular in pictures including on plates and yes, that does explain why so many pubs have that name. But let us return to Worcester, a suitable place for a Royalist last stand because the region had been firmly pro-King since the days of King John and Magna Carta. And we actually were at the site on Fort Royal Hill where the battle ended and seen the spire of the cathedral.

We also saw a plaque that quotes the words future U.S. President John Adams wrote after visiting in 1786 along with another future president, Thomas Jefferson, back when they were friends before they became bitter enemies and then in old age friends again.

“Edgehill and Worcester were curious and interesting to us, as scenes where freemen had fought for their rights. The people in the neighborhood appeared so ignorant and careless at Worcester, that I was provoked, and asked, ‘And do Englishmen so soon forget the ground where liberty was fought for? Tell your neighbors and your children that this is holy ground; much holier than that on which your churches stand. All England should come in pilgrimage to this hill once a year.’ This animated them, and they seemed much pleased with it. Perhaps their awkwardness before might arise from their uncertainty of our sentiments concerning the civil wars.”

I am no fan of Cromwell, who disposed of one tyrant with the aid of an army before making himself another using the same instrument. It was much better that the ancient institutions be restored and refurbished, as they were after 1660 and especially 1689. And I think Adams spoke a bit slightingly of English churches. But he was right that when they have been trampled, the people must recover and restore them. And then remember, as the English then did.

It is from such people that Canada claims its political descent. So we should remember it too. As our Right to Arms documentary (www.arighttoarms.com) will remind people when it is finished later this fall. Complete with footage from Fort Royal Hill.

It happened todayJohn Robson
Lend me your ears... and the head attached

Cicero Denounces Catiline, fresco by Cesare Maccari, 1882–88 (Wikipedia)

Who is Cicero? The short answer is he’s like this famous orator who um well he was a Roman and he talked real good. A slightly longer answer is a man on the wrong end of whose tongue or pen you would not want to be, because his oratory was famously polemical. Hence on September 2nd we should remember, and to some extent celebrate, the first of the “Philippics” that made him famous and dead.

Huh? Dead. Yup. I’ll get to that. But first the Philippics.

It’s a term for a singularly harsh political denunciation. Or at least it used to be. And as you may notice, I’m sidling up to a commentary of the O Tempora O Mores kind about declining cultural standards in which we no longer remember such things and as a result our politics is at least as abusive but far less eloquent. Where’s any sort of Cicero today? Or Demosthenes?

I bring him in because the term “Philippic” originated with his denunciations of Philip of Macedon. Which didn’t work. Thanks in part to Demosthenes, Athens and Thebes did revolt against the dominance of Macedon but got walloped at Chaeronea in 338 BC and for all practical purposes lost its independence permanently.

Somebody assassinated Philip two years later for reasons that are unclear but apparently weren’t related to Athens. Demosthenes again persuaded the Athenians to revolt and again it failed, and with Macedonian agents hot on his heels Demosthenes committed suicide. History remembers him more favourably and rightly so. But his tongue was a double-edged weapon.

Still, I’m meant to be killing Cicero, right? So here we go.

He unleashed his tongue on Mark Antony, the guy who came to bury Caesar not praise him in Shakespeare. Cicero actually objected to the fact that Mark Antony hadn’t helped murder Caesar. And he gave him what for in classic style, even classical, including deliberately adopting Demosthenes’ own Philippics as a model.

He went on and on, 14 of these things in less than two years. And it rather backfired, I have to admit. For one thing, Mark Antony had him killed and his head and hands displayed in the forum to frighten opponents of Antony and his new buddies Octavian and Lepidus. For another, Cicero got so carried away over Mark Antony that he overlooked the danger of Octavian, even endorsing his raising of a private army.

In the end Mark Antony also overlooked the danger of Octavian, who defeated Antony and drove him to suicide, and shuffled Lepidus off into obscurity in which he at least lived out his days in humiliating peace.

As for Cicero, well, he sure gave a great speech. The sort we should imitate. Starting by being aware of it, and even studying it in schools. While also giving a little attention to the need to be a little more prudent about practical matters.

It happened todayJohn Robson
Wish I'd said that - September 2, 2016

“Unhurt people are not much good in the world.”

Irish literary critic Enid Starkie, quoted in “Social Studies” in the Globe and Mail Dec. 11, 2007 (parenthetically, I would not have thought there were enough of them for it to matter)

Famous quotesJohn Robson