How would you become a political or media star in the early 1800s? Emit a stirring proclamation at an Independence Day picnic and hope a newspaper would print it. Historian James A. Kehl looks at what was on the nervous minds of Western Pennsylvanians at the time.

The unalienable right to the pursuit of happiness represents the clause in the Declaration of Independence that present-day Americans salute most enthusiastically. This clause is often interpreted as the right to be free from the workplace, to wash the family cars, to take in a ball game, to hold a backyard cookout and perhaps to squeeze in a community parade or nighttime fireworks.

The element in today's population most likely to deviate from this pattern and be alert to the truism that freedom is not always free is the National Guard and their families. During the Afghan-Iraq wars, more than any other time in the nation's history, the Guard is carrying a stressful burden.

In the early 1800s, the people who served in the militias -- the forerunner of the National Guard -- had their own anxieties. The Revolution had been won, America was a sovereign state, but everything was far from rosy. In European circles the question was pondered: Would America remain free or revert to British control or fall under the influence of another power?

Economic success required a delicate balancing act. The need to expand foreign and domestic commerce, undergird the nation's new manufacturing industries and assure the growth of agriculture prompted numerous false starts, including a second war with Britain (the War of 1812).

After that war, for the first time, Americans could celebrate the nation's birth with relative calm, because marked progress had been achieved over the first 40 years. The war had ended on a triumphant note with Gen. Andrew Jackson's victory at New Orleans. Meanwhile, the European powers turned inward to domestic affairs with the defeat of Napoleon at Waterloo.

That permitted America to be free to develop without further foreign intervention.

In Western Pennsylvania, the militias took charge of most July 4 celebrations between 1815 and 1825. Pittsburgh had four militia companies, known collectively as the Pittsburgh Volunteers.

Because they were family affairs, the July 4 celebrations were popular. With picnic lunches in hand, militia families, accompanied by members of the general public, assembled in a meadow or a public square where the militiamen performed a few close-order drills. Although some were rifle or artillery companies, nothing more elaborate was attempted.

After this brief demonstration, lunch was in order; thereafter the group was entertained with a program of speeches and toasts.

The toasts were short and far outnumbered the speeches. Their content generally reflected an attitude toward one or more of the political or economic concerns of the day.

Anyone ambitious to rise in the ranks of the militia or to use his militia status as a springboard to a political career was anxious to be chosen to offer a July 4 toast. Not only was this an occasion for significant public recognition, it also was an opportunity for newspaper publicity.

The most original and provocative toasts were printed in the local newspaper, of which Pittsburgh had at least three with an established readership. More than a half dozen others were published in the region.

A clever toast could be reprinted several times across the commonwealth, especially if the publishing editor shared the sentiments presented in the toast.

One toaster was so grateful for one journalistic outlet that he exclaimed: "The Liberty of the Press. It develops the recesses of the palace and carries light within the confines of the cottage."

With the emphasis given to toasts, the history of a region could be gleaned from the July 4 renditions; they toasted all the troubling topics of the day.

PARTY ON

The people of Western Pennsylvania, like those throughout the nation, were disillusioned by the functioning of political parties in the first years under the Constitution. Often undetected on the surface, an anti-party gene courses through the American electorate, but at no time was it more prevalent than between the 1810 and 1830.

The following Independence Day toasts dramatically attest to that fact:

"Party Spirit: Its influence appears to be arrested; may its baleful efforts never more disrupt the peace of society." (The Mercury, 1819)

"Party Spirit:. May it never mar the bosom of friendships, nor interrupt the cause of private affection." (Mercury, 1819)

"Party Spirit. Stir not its ashes, lest burning embers should appear." (Pittsburgh Gazette, 1823)

And in the era's version of term limits:

"The Reformers of Pennsylvania: Give them a loaf and a fish apiece, and you will hear no more about reform." (The Mercury, 1824)

BASH THE BANKS

In these years the value of money was ever-changing. Between 1811 and 1816 there was no national bank, and the region, like the nation as a whole, was dependent on two types of state banks, chartered and unchartered, all of which issued paper money with varying values in terms of both gold and buying power in different markets. Also since the area west of the mountains was a debtor region, money flowed to the seaboard, and banks were accused of causing a scarcity of funds for local business. All who engaged in business transactions were frustrated, as these two toasts indicate:

"Our Banks: May the time come when we shall have no tellers among us but fortune tellers." (Pittsburgh Gazette, 1818)

"Money is like manure, does no good till it is spread; there is no real use for riches, except in the distribution; the rest is all conceit." (Erie Gazette, 1822)

PROTECT OUR PRODUCTS

Of necessity during the War of 1812, the U.S. government encouraged the start-up of American industries, partly to meet the demands of war and partly to replace supplies cut off by the British naval blockade. With federal help, cities such as Philadelphia and Pittsburgh developed industrial plants and many products, but in the postwar years it was feared that similar products from the more efficient mills of Britain would flood the American markets and drive local producers bankrupt.

As the toasts reflect, Pittsburgh's economic life was dependent upon protection for the warborn industries.

"The City of Pittsburgh: May the smoke of its manufacturies never be dispelled by foreign importations." (Mercury, 1822)

"Domestic Manufactures. The best preventive of hard times." (Pittsburgh Gazette, 1819)

"Henry Baldwin, Esq [local advocate of the first US protective tariff]: The nation looks to him as the champion of her industry, and England dreads his tariff more than our ships of battle." (Mercury, 1820)

"Agriculture and Manufactures. Their interests are united, the friend of one cannot be the foe of the other." (Pittsburgh Gazette 1823)

CONFUSED BY COMMERCE

The Western Pennsylvania mind was divided and perplexed on the subject of commerce. Anxious to receive improvements to bridges, roads and river navigation, the region could not agree on how such projects might be financed. Some preferred state subsidy; others favored private subscription.

On foreign commerce, the region registered a similar ambivalence. Most believed the federal government had responded prematurely to the demands of the seaboard merchants when it voted for war in 1812. But, recognizing the inevitability of foreign commerce and hoping to pay low prices for products, the region also wanted the right to insist on exceptions; it argued to have some products protected by a tariff but couldn't agree on which ones. A certain schizophrenia is reflected in these toasts:

"Commerce: Of equal birth and equal rights, she has been made the first born and the cherished heiress of congressional bounty and privilege." (Mercury, 1821)

"Our Rivers and Roads: The veins of our wealth, and the cement of our Union." (Erie Gazette, 1820)

"Our Commerce: It demands millions for its defense, but makes us tributary to foreign nations." (Mercury, 1823)

"Foreign Commerce. It brought in its train, non-intercourse, embargo, and war, and should not now be supported at the expense of ruin to those establishments which have been acknowledged as the source of our independence." (Mercury, 1821)

For this 19th-century generation, Independence Day was a study in harsh political and economic realities. At that time in every way, America was an underdeveloped nation still facing uncertainties too ominously present to be ignored.

Through militia units, July 4 celebrations provided a significant catalyst for cross-sections of people (farmers, artisans, businessmen, the rich and the poor, established residents and those recently arrived from the East) to voice their apprehensions and project solutions.

Greatness had not yet come. Diligence on the part of those ancestors was needed to establish the foundation that has made our 2008 celebrations less stressful, despite our anxieties over war, the economy and the environment.