At 9 o’clock the firing from the ships anchored in the harbor slackened and then stopped. It seemed as though the siege of the city might be over for the night.
But an hour or so later 20 small beats set out, under cover of darkness, with a driving rain pelting down. Their oars muffled, they slipped past the strong walls of the fort on the shore and approached the smaller battery on the other side.
At one o’clock in the morning the attack ships out in the harbor opened fire again, longer and louder than before. What could it mean that they would do so in the middle of the night? Why now, why such ferocity?
Despite the roar of the bombs and the thunder of the ordnance, sailing master Webster thought he heard another sound as well, the unmistakable sound of oars dipping the water. His eyes swept the river and finally caught sight of 10 or 11 dim shapes some 200 yards offshore. By two o’clock he was sure that the enemy had been trying to send a tactical group to surprise the fort. So Webster ordered his battery to fire at those dim shapes.
Several hundred yards upstream, the fort on the other side of the water responded and began firing as well. Then the great fort out on the point joined in. Now from every spot in the harbor where the enemy had anchored any kind of vessel, the night sky was filled with bombs and smoke, fire and heat.
Mr. Webster and his men, who had fired the first shots after seeing the silhouettes of the enemy boats, were soon exhausted. Handling the artillery, loading the shot, wrestling with balky gunnery, it was all taking its toll. Webster sent a young officer to the rear to get a contingent of 30 men to reinforce his efforts.
The word came back shortly: we cannot release thirty men to you. We will need them to protect you when you have to retreat, for retreat you will have to do. Webster and his efforts were net regarded as successful; the fort would surely be lost and the city would be next. It was only a matter of time before this tremendous enemy firepower, which was already shaking every building in town, would be turned against its rooftops, and the city would have to surrender or be destroyed. Not even Webster’s own comrades in arms believed that there was any chance of success.
By contrast, there was general hilarity in the enemy’s encampment on the hill. As the soldiers were roused from their fitful sleep about 3 o’clock, they assumed that their leaders were about to march them into the city, where they could pillage and burn at will. They enjoyed their last few moments before the marching orders came writing sarcastic notes on the walls of the houses they had commandeered for the night.
Then came the order to march. To their astonishment and dismay, they were ordered to march away from the city, away from their prize, away from the pillage and plundering. Their officers, incredibly, had given up the cause and had decided not to fight, although anyone would have said that they had every chance of success. Back to their ships they went, locking for safety and security rather than a fight.
As for the boatmen, those who had tried to slip by Webster’s fort but who had been seen by his sharp eyes ... the boatmen turned their weary way back to the harbor also, pausing only long enough to send up a signal flare to alert their admiral that they were returning. By 4 o’clock the whole blazing, tumultuous night seemed over; and in the predawn darkness who could know what had happened?
Who could know that the defenders, most of whom had believed that their cause was lost, had actually won? And who could know or imagine that the attackers, so superior in power, with the situation theirs for the taking, had simply walked away from victory?
On a small ship, some eight miles down the bay, well out of the fight, three men had been watching throughout the night, training their telescopes on the harbor and the fort. They had been reassured, in a measure, by the bombs going off and the rockets firing ... reassured, because if the fighting continued, it meant that the forts had not surrendered. The noise and the fire of the night gave them hope, but the quiet and darkness of the early morning gave them anxiety. What did it mean? Who had won and who had lost? Was the city still in our hands, or had the enemy taken it by now? And was our cause still alive, or had everything for which we had fought now been shattered? The men paced the deck of the ship and strained to see something, anything.
At 5:50 the sun began to peek over the horizon, but it was still too misty to see. When, however, an eastward wind sprang up, clearing the air of Baltimore’s inner harbor, Francis Scott Key raised his telescope once more, and there he saw it; standing out against the dull gray of the clouds and the hills was the flag, our flag, at Ft. McHenry! The attack had failed! The fort was still in safe hands! The victory was won!
Mr. Key scribbled a few lines on a scrap of paper, “Oh say, can you see, by the dawn’s early light; what so proudly we hailed at the twilight’s last gleaming; whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight O’er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming! And the rockets red glare, the bombs bursting in air, gave proof through the night that our flag was still there; 0 say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave, o’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?"!
From this moment in American history during the War of 1812, we learn several things, things about our history and our heritage as a nation, but things about our spiritual heritage as well:
We learn, first, as it has so often been said, that the darkness is most intense just before the dawn. Despair runs deepest just before there is a breakthrough.
We learn, second, that during the dawn’s early light we may not be able to see clearly, the outcome of battle may not be fully evident; but we can see at least enough to know that our freedom is won. Whatever else happens, there comes a moment when we know that we are going to be free. It is assured.
And then, finally, we learn that the human spirit is at its finest when we claim that freedom for others as well as for ourselves. God has intended us to be free. We simply have to commit to freedom.
On this Independence Day, it is not only the stirring words of the national anthem as penned by Francis Scott Key which I hear. It is also the staunch declaration of the apostle Paul, urging the Christians in Galatia, "For freedom Christ has set us free. Stand firm, therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery."
You see, in our spiritual lives, as in the life of the nation, there has been a battle. It was a battle for the freedom for which God intended us.
Now the essential battle has been won. It is over, for all intents and purposes. The problem is that many of those for whom it has been won don’t know it yet. They have not yet heard of their liberation.
You and I have seen the victory by the dawn’s early light, and you and I must commit to victory. We must make a commitment to freedom and must not submit again, says Paul, to a yoke of slavery.
Throughout the course of human history there has always been a battle going on for the souls of men and women. That thing called sin has always been our enemy. It shows up in many ways; it shows up as hatred, as jealousy, as violence. It shows up as racism, prejudice, sexism. It displays itself as selfishness, as egotism, as immorality. By whatever mask it wears, it is still the same enemy: it is sin.
And sin enslaves us. Sin shackles us. Sin keeps us from being all that God wants us to be.
Those who are interested in promoting sin, those who revel in sin, think that they are riding high. They believe that life is just a bowl of cherries, and that all they have to do is reach out and take whatever they want. It will be theirs for the taking.
But they are mistaken. They are sadly mistaken. They have not yet caught on. The Bible says that the wages of sin is death. Death. On our streets every day that terrible reality is being played out. The wages of sin is death, sometimes for the guilty, and sometimes for the innocent, but death nonetheless. Sin is a losing battle.
When you and I are caught in the throes of sin, even when we think we are enjoying ourselves and are living it up, the truth is that we are also destroying ourselves and hurting ourselves. We know it, but we just won’t admit it. Sin enslaves us, sin has a death grip on us.
But there is good news. There is good news. The good news is that the death grip of sin has been beaten. The slavery of sin has been defeated. All the masks sin wears, strong though they may appear … all of them are going too.
Paul says, “Before faith came, we were imprisoned and guarded under the law until faith would be revealed. Therefore the law was our disciplinarian until Christ came, so that we might be justified by faith. But now that faith has come, we are no longer subject to a disciplinarian, for in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith. As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus."
There is no longer Jew versus Greek, no longer slave versus free, you are all free. How do we know? How can he say that? In light of all the problems our world faces, how can he say that?
Remember, it is always darkest just before the dawn.
Remember too, that during the dawn’s early light things are not always
clear, but we can see enough to know that our freedom is won.
"On the first day of the week, at early dawn ... they found the stone rolled away from the tomb. ’Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen.’”
By the dawn’s early light, we can know this much: that Jesus Christ is risen from the dead. That means that our victory is assured. That means the battle is all but over. Yes, sin rules for a time, but it is over with. Yes, death is still a daily reality, but its grip is broken. And now, knowing that our freedom from sin and death is won, we can commit ourselves to shouting freedom allover this land. Seeing by the dawn’s early light his empty tomb, not only can we be free ourselves, we can call others to be free.
Come and see. See what victory God has won. Most of us had given up, thinking that sin would have the day. But now we see through a glass darkly, but then someday face to face, come and see. Come and be free.
"For freedom Christ has set you free. Do not submit again, therefore, to a yoke of slavery.”
