The poem “The American Boy,” which I discovered in an 1838 newspaper, is an evocative piece reflecting the patriotic fervor of its time. The poem features a dialogue between a father and his son, with the son admiring the national flag and expressing a desire to participate in the celebrations of freedom. The father, though aged, encourages his son’s burgeoning patriotism, underscoring the importance of cherishing and defending their homeland.
Despite its poignant content and the era’s rich literary landscape, the specific authorship of “The American Boy” remains unverified. During the 19th century, it was not uncommon for poems and songs to circulate widely without clear attribution, especially when published in newspapers or periodicals. This lack of attribution makes it challenging to identify the original author definitively.
The poem’s themes of national pride and the intergenerational transmission of patriotic values resonate with the sentiments prevalent in pre-Civil War America. Such works often aimed to instill a sense of unity and national identity among readers, reflecting the cultural milieu of the time.
The American Boy
“Father, look up and see that flag,
How gracefully it flies;
Those pretty stripes—they seem to be
A rainbow in the skies.”
“It is your country’s flag, my son,
And proudly drinks the light,
O’er ocean’s wave—in foreign climes,
A symbol of our might.”
“Father, what fearful noise is that,
Like thundering of the clouds?
Why do the people wave their hats,
And rush along in crowds?”
“It is the voice of cannonry,
The glad shouts of the free,
This is a day to memory dear—
‘Tis Freedom’s Jubilee.”
“I wish that I were now a man,
I’d fire my cannon too,
And cheer as fondly as the rest—
But father, why don’t you?”
“I’m getting old and weak—but still
My heart is big with joy;
I’ve witnessed many a day like this—
Shout ye aloud, my boy!”
“Hurrah for Freedom’s Jubilee!
God bless our native land;
And may I live to hold the sword
Of Freedom in my hand!”
“Well done, my boy—grow up and love
The land that gave you birth,
A home where Freedom loves to dwell,
A paradise on earth.”
And that’s not all. With her are three maids, by courtesy French, a first, a second and a third attaché, a marshal, a courier, a butler, a chef and for good measure three or four other men servants.
All these, princess, suite, menagerie and impedimenta, at the Willard. They arrived from Hot Springs, Va., at 3:45 this afternoon in the private car Magnet, attached to a regular Chesapeake & Ohio train. They proceeded to the hotel after some delay, in half a dozen carriages, and after considerable excitement on the part of the hotel employees, her highness was finally established in a suite which comprised almost the entire southeast wing of the second floor. The princess had ordered a room with a balcony and was justly indignant when she found she had been relegated to the fourth floor, where there was no balcony.
