Independence Day is one of the best holidays of the year, especially for those of us who love fireworks. In the first few years of our marriage we lived in and very near Washington, D.C., where there is one of the grandest fireworks displays annually, against one of the most arresting set of backdrops possible. When we lived on Capitol Hill it was a short walk to the Capitol, to watch the display at the Washington Monument, with the Lincoln Memorial and Lee’s Mansion at Arlington National Cemetery in the background. Once we hiked to the Lincoln Memorial to get the opposite view.
There are other grand displays. Baltimore annually has a grand fireworks program on Baltimore Harbor, near Fort McHenry whose shelling was the inspiration to Francis Scott Key to write what is now our national anthem. In the Norfolk area there is a fine show at the Yorktown National Battlefield site. New York City has great stuff, as do Boston, Philadelphia, and Chicago.
But the best part of the holiday is the annual retelling of the story of freedom, of the Declaration of Independence, and of its chief author Thomas Jefferson, and the friendships that included Benjamin Franklin, James Madison, George Washington, Alexander Hamilton, and especially John Adams. The story of the friendship, falling out, reconciliation and great love between Adams and Jefferson is one of the finest stories in American history. After having reconciled a few years after their great falling out during the bitter election of 1800, they continued to correspond to their deaths. The series of letters is a great explication of democracy, how to form a republic, and the duties and privileges of citizens in a free nation. To add to the poignancy, both Adams and Jefferson died on July 4, 1826, 50 years to the day that the Declaration of Independence was published. Ed Brayton of Dispatches from the Culture Wars has a fine post on the day, the Declaration, and the friendship between Adams and Jefferson, here.
Millard Fillmore's Bathtub 
Twain was troubled by the U.S.’s tactics in the Philippines — appropriately, I think. It is a section of history that is not covered well in current U.S. high school texts, and it is a part of history that Moslems remember, in my experience.
Twain saw the ideals that the U.S. could live up to, and he saw only too well that the nation was not living up to them. Twain saw the stupidity of war, and the evils of imperialism, well before it was popular.
See also Twain’s “War Prayer,” and his comments on the missionaries in Hawaii.
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With experience of a hundred years later, Mark Twain had a different take on American history and freedom.
Mark Twain in his anti-imperialist writings.
“The Flag Is Not Polluted [1901]
I am not finding fault with this use of our flag; for in order not to seem eccentric I have swung around, now, and joined the nation in the conviction that nothing can sully a flag. I was not properly reared, and had the illusion that a flag was a thing which must be sacredly guarded against shameful uses and unclean contacts, lest it suffer pollution; and so when it was sent out to the Philippines to float over a wanton war and a robbing expedition I supposed it was polluted, and in an ignorant moment I said so. But I stand corrected. I concede and acknowledge that it was only the government that sent it on such an errand that was polluted. Let us compromise on that. I am glad to have it that way. For our flag could not well stand pollution, never having been used to it, but it is different with the administration.”
http://www.boondocksnet.com/ai/twain/mtws_flag.html
“As for a flag for the Philippine Province, it is easily managed. We can have a special one — our States do it: we can have just our usual flag, with the white stripes painted black and the stars replaced by the skull and cross-bones. –To the Person Sitting in Darkness”
http://www.boondocksnet.com/twainwww/essays/twain_saluting_flag020630.html
The Battle Hymn of the Republic,
Mine eyes have seen the orgy of the launching of the Sword;
He is searching out the hoardings where the stranger’s wealth is stored;
He hath loosed his fateful lightnings, and with woe and death has scored;
His lust is marching on.
I have seen him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps;
They have builded him an altar in the Eastern dews and damps;
I have read his doomful mission by the dim and flaring lamps —
His night is marching on.
I have read his bandit gospel writ in burnished rows of steel:
“As ye deal with my pretensions, so with you my wrath shall deal;
Let the faithless son of Freedom crush the patriot with his heel;
Lo, Greed is marching on!”
We have legalized the strumpet and are guarding her retreat;*
Greed is seeking out commercial souls before his judgement seat;
O, be swift, ye clods, to answer him! be jubilant my feet!
Our god is marching on!
In a sordid slime harmonious Greed was born in yonder ditch,
With a longing in his bosom — and for others’ goods an itch.
As Christ died to make men holy, let men die to make us rich —
Our god is marching on.
* NOTE: In Manila the Government has placed a certain industry under the protection of our flag. (M.T.)
http://www.positiveatheism.org/hist/twainwp.htm
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