Friday, February 3, 2017

Samuel Woodworth’s The Champions of Freedom and the End of the Early American Novel


Even compared to other early American novels, Samuel Woodworth’s The Champions of Freedom (1818) is a real mess. Set in the wake of the War of 1812, it is—among other things—a factual history of the War culled from Woodworth’s newspaper; a compilation of biographies of the War’s heroes; a series of meditations on nationalism and patriotism; a sentimental romance; a sequence of seduction plots; a medley of plays; and a coming-of-age story, advised by a “Mysterious Chief,” who may or may not be the ghost of George Washington. According to the few considerations of the novel, this messiness is due to the work’s position as a first, the first historical romance written by a US citizen (Michael T. Gilmore); a first attempt at developing a modern national culture (Joseph J. Letter); a first example of “ghosting” Native Americans (Renée Bergland). As a “first,” the novel is necessarily messy. The Champions of Freedom is a helpful starting place because, really, it can only get better from here.



Of course, as Karen A. Weyler and Michelle Burnham, this seminar’s organizers, have recently argued, “origin stories matter: beginnings beget endings” (655). And The Champions of Freedom is a natural—if messy—beginning to stories that end with the rise of the US historical novel, with American nationalism, or with Jackson’s policies on Native Americans. However, I am not only interested in Woodworth’s novel as a starting-point. I’m also interested in how The Champions of Freedom is the endpoint of the eighteenth-century US novel, that is, the fiction written and published in the US between 1790 and 1820.



I argue here that the novel is messy because it’s a nineteenth-century text written by someone in an eighteenth-century profession. Put another way, Woodworth—like most other novel-writers of the eighteenth century—is not a novelist so much as he is an intellectual. The term “intellectual” recognizes the pre-professional role of writers of early US novels before the novel became a lucrative endeavor. It also appreciates the range of intellectual work across a diverse array of genres and formats of publication. Additionally, the term—which recalls Antonio Gramsci’s “organic intellectuals”— acknowledges Woodworth’s commitment to the Democratic Republican party, the coalition that became hegemonic following the declension of the Federalists. As such, The Champions of Freedom not only lays the groundwork for the nineteenth-century historical novel, but also helps to crystalize the position of the novelist and the novel genre before the professionalization of authorship.



If we read The Champions of Freedom as the endpoint of the early American novel, we must acknowledge that while Woodworth may be the “native precursor” to James Fenimore Cooper, his professional position was quite distinct from his successor (Gilmore 642). Cooper and Washington Irving are generally recognized as the first financially successful novelists in the US. For a variety of reasons—some legal, some technological, some aesthetic—no novelist before 1820 realized anything like Cooper’s financial success. And none of the most successful and prolific early American writers devoted themselves to primarily to writing novels. Rather, most did what Woodworth did; they had alternate professions and wrote across a range of genres and formats of publication. Indeed, Woodworth was not, or even primarily, a novelist. He was also a journalist, printer, poet, song lyricist, playwright, editor, and publisher of various newspapers and magazines.



Moreover, when we consider Woodworth’s various publications as a whole, a clear ideological project emerges. Of course, some of his best-known work appears nonpartisan. The song “The Bucket” (1818), for example, is a brief piece of youthful nostalgia in which the narrator remembers his idyllic childhood on the farm, drinking from the old-oaken bucket that hung from the well. Diving deeper into his corpus, however, reveals Woodworth’s deep commitment to the Democratic Republican party. His first known poem “New Haven, A Poem, Satirical and Sentimental” (1809), for example, features an ironical muse who mocks the Federalist bastion and takes shots at Yale and the Hartford Wits. His play The Forest Rose; Or, An American Farmer (1825) also promotes many prominent Democratic Republican themes. It tells the story of a countrywoman who, pursued by an urbane English villain, is saved by Jonathan Ploughboy, a stalwart American farmer. Perhaps most telling is Woodworth’s short-lived The War (1812-1814), a newspaper dedicated to espousing pro-war rhetoric and condemning anti-war Federalists as internal enemies.



In this way, then, The Champions of Freedom is an attempt—not unlike his poetry, plays, and newspaper writings—to codify and disperse the ideology of his intellectual network. However, whereas the reading audience of his poetry and newspaper writings was perhaps more limited, the novel genre had the potential of reaching a larger, more general, audience.



Indeed, it is clear from the novel’s preface that Woodworth has his audience in mind. He writes that although the history of the War of 1812 is an important “monument to American patriotism and bravery,” it will likely be for many readers “a disagreeable and tiresome monotony” (v). For this reason, his novel is an attempt to make this history more readable. “In many respects I have studied the interest of the reader alone,” he writes, “by making short paragraphs, lessening the length of a chapter when its subject is dull, and increasing when the incidents are interesting” (viii). More important, however, is the commingling of “Romance” with the “most correct and History of the War, that has yet appeared.” Combining the two, he explains, will help “to furnish…relief without alluring from the subject—to soften the rough notes of the bugle by the gentler tone of the lyre—to mingle the flowers of fancy with the laurels of victory—and to shift the scene occasionally from the hostile camp to the mansion of love” (v). The novel, in other words, is a kind of compromise: the fictional exploits of the protagonist will ultimately make the average reader more likely to appreciate the historical accounts of the War.



The Champions of Freedom, in the words of Cathy Davidson, is thus “an attempt to sell history” (103). And it is a particularly partisan history that minimizes defeat and dissent—two sentences are dedicated to describing the burning of Washington while only one discusses the Hartford Convention—while concurrently amplifying victory, especially naval victories and Jackson’s battle of New Orleans. It is important to note, however, that the novel claims to sell a national—rather than a Democratic Republican—form of history. In fact, the novel’s protagonist is often warned against becoming “the slave or the tool of a sect or party” (87).



Again, this is why the novel is such an instructive “first.” As one of the first historical novels, it appears as an initial attempt to shape and define the surge in nationalism following the War. Incidentally, it also helps to reveal the US historical novel’s ideological origins. In addition to Woodworth, Cooper and James Kirke Paulding were advocates for the Democratic Republican party. As such, the US historical novel emerges as a bid for cultural hegemony less concerned with creating an encompassing nationalism than with making their coalition’s ideology appear universal.



But what if we again consider it, again, not only as the first US historical novel but also as one of the last early American novels? It would require us, for one, to view it in comparison to the cluster of other novels written before 1820 focused on the War of 1812.



In sum, many of these novels are written by intellectuals for the opposing Federalist Party who are critical of the War and view the nation as fundamentally divided. These include William Jenks’s Memoir of the Northern Kingdom (1808) wherein the narrator gives an alternative history of the United States as one divided between an aristocratic Northern Kingdom and a republican Southern Kingdom; The Adventures of Uncle Sam in Search of His Lost Honor (1816), in which the difference between the North and South is personified in the figures of Tom Boston and Salgado, respectively, who both try to influence Uncle Sam regarding the upcoming War with John Bull; and The Yankee Traveller (1817) and Thomas Bigelow and Nathan Hale’s War of the Gulls (1812), which both feature similar internal divisions.



Ultimately, this comparison, in which The Champions of Freedom is a clear outlier, helps to demonstrate why the novel’s messy position is particularly illuminating. On the one hand, Woodworth’s is an eighteenth-century intellectual, rather than as a nineteenth-century novelist. In this way, his profession mirrors his better-known eighteenth-century counterparts. Most held other occupations including law (Hugh Henry Brackenridge and Royall Tyler), ministry (Jeremy Belknap and Enos Hitchcock), and education (Susanna Rowson and Hannah Webster Foster). And while they are now remembered for their novels, like Woodworth, they all wrote across a range of genres (essays, histories, dramas, poems, sermons) and formats and publications (magazines, newspapers, and public performances).[1]



On the other hand, as an intellectual for the Democratic Republicans, Woodworth is an outlier among these better-known intellectuals. Indeed, most eighteenth-century intellectuals belonged to an urban bloc that coalesced following the suppression of Shays’s Rebellion, achieved hegemony with the ratification of the Constitution, and came to call themselves the Federalist Party. Though he is best-known today as the author of The Power of Sympathy (1789), William Hill Brown was most famous in the eighteenth century for his poetry, which included “Shays to Shattuck”(1787), which depicts the leader of Shays’s Rebellion as a manipulative demagogue and “Yankee Song” (1788), which celebrates the drafting of the Constitution. Before penning The Algerine Captive (1797), Royall Tyler served as an officer in General Lincoln’s anti-Shaysite militia, and The Contrast (1787) mocks Shaysites in its portrayal of Yankee Jonathan. Similarly, following the serial publication of The Foresters (1787-1788), Jeremy Belknap criticized an uprising similar to Shays’s Rebellion in Exeter, New Hampshire in The History of New Hampshire (1791). The suppression of the Exeter uprising was mobilized by Nathan Gilman, the father of Tabitha Gilman Tenney, whose Female Quixotism (1801) also parodies backwoods agrarians. In addition, the majority of other intellectuals demonstrate a conservative agenda: Samuel Relf, author of Infidelity (1797) later edited the Federalist Relf’s Gazette, and Judith Sargent Murray’s serialized novel Margaretta (1792-1794) endorses the Adams administration. This trend continues into the 1800s: William Jenks, Thomas Hale Pettengill, Martha Meredith Read, Samuel Lorenzo Knapp, Caroline Warren Thayer, and many others were New England conservatives even as this position became more tenuous following, first, the Revolution of 1800, and, then, the War of 1812. In this light, then, The Champions of Freedom is another “first,” one of the first novels to be written by an intellectual committed to the Democratic Republicans following the collapse of Federalism.



The Champions of Freedom’s position as a nineteenth-century novel written by an eighteenth-century intellectual is one of the main reasons it is such a mess. However, it is also what makes it such a revelatory text. Indeed, Woodworth, as one of the last eighteenth-century intellectuals helps to crystallize the position of the so-called “novelists” of the eighteenth century, revealing them to be committed to a particular ideology that attempts to disperse it across a range of genres and formats of publication. Additionally, its position as one of the first historical novels helps to reveal the ideological origins of post-War of 1812 nationalism. Lastly, and more broadly, it demonstrates how the early American novel was an integral piece of the volatile class conflicts of the early national period.





Works Cited


Bergland, Renée L. The National Uncanny: Indian Ghosts and American Subjects. Hanover: U of Dartmouth P, 2000.



Davidson, Cathy. Revolution and the Word: The Rise of the Novel in America. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2004.



Gilmore, Michael T. “The Novel.” The Cambridge History of American Literature. Vol. 1. Ed. Sacvan Bercovitch. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1994.



Letter, Joseph J. “Reincarnating Samuel Woodworth: Native American Prophets, the Nation, and the War of 1812.” Early American Literature 43.3 (2008): 687-713. 



Weyler, Karen A., and Michelle Burnham. “Reanimating Ghost Editions, Reorienting the Early American Novel.” Early American Literature 51:3 (2016): 655-664.



Woodworth, Samuel. The Champions of Freedom; or The Mysterious Chief. New York: Charles N. Baldwin, 1818.




[1] Many so-called “novels” of the early national period are such a hodgepodge of generic conventions published in a variety of formats that they bear only a passing resemblance to what we would call novels. The term “intellectual” thus eases the burden on defining these works as novels.

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