dual personalities

Tag: Stonewall Jackson

“Let us cross over the river and rest under the shade of the trees.”*

by chuckofish

It is October again and time to toast our parents (tomorrow) on the anniversary of their marriage in 1950. I am grateful that they had it together enough to have three children in those post-war years and to stay together to raise them. It is more than a lot of people have, especially these days.

I finished S.C. Gwynne’s great book “Rebel Yell” about Stonewall Jackson. Although I am no fan of the Confederacy, I always admired Jackson a great deal.

The “Chancellorsville Portrait” taken seven days before Jackson was mortally wounded.

It was a terrible thing for the South when he died in 1863; but the whole country mourned his death. It is interesting to note how many strong men were moved to tears, openly sobbing in some cases, from the lowliest soldier to Robert E. Lee. Like U.S. Grant, he was not much of a success before the war. He was an unpopular professor at VMI and only came into his own when commanding men on the battlefield. When he did, he did so with a vengeance. He was a devout Christian, a Presbyterian, who believed completely in God’s providence. He knew that whatever happened, it happened because God willed it. This made him extremely courageous. He died knowing where he was bound.

Gwynne writes: “The most famous Northern view of Jackson came from the celebrated poet John Greenleaf Whittier, whose poem ‘Barbara Frietchie,’ published in 1864, became a national sensation. It described an almost entirely mythological incident from September 1862, when Jackson’s troops were passing through Frederick, Maryland, on their way to the battles of Harpers Ferry and Antietam. As Whittier told it, after Jackson’s troops had taken down all the American flags, the elderly Frietchie had retrieved one and flown it from her attic window. Seeing it, Jackson ordered his men to shoot it down, but Frietchie caught it as it fell and held it forth, crying, ‘Shoot, if you must, this old gray head/But spare your country’s flag.’ Jackson’s reaction followed:

A shade of sadness, a blush of shame,

Over the face of the leader came;

The nobler nature within him stirred

To life at that woman’s deed and word:

“Who touches a hair of yon gray head

Dies like a dog! March on!” he said.

All day long through Frederick street

Sounded the tread of marching feet:

All day long that free flag tost

Over the heads of the rebel host.

Ever its torn folds rose and fell

On the loyal winds that loved it well;

And through the hill-gaps sunset light

Shone over it with a warm good-night.

“None of this ever happened. But to the Northern nation–the wartime nation–the incident was as good as documented fact. What it said to them was that Jackson was a gentleman and a Christian and a decent person in spite of his role in killing and maiming tens of thousands of their young men. But it also said that he was, fundamentally, an American. It was his Americanness that had ‘stirred’ in him and redeemed him.”

Americans today have a hard time understanding that an enemy can be a good person, a noble person. And that being an American is a great thing.

We were sad to hear that beautiful Loretta Lynn had passed away at age ninety but we rejoice in her long, eventful life.

Loretta was the real deal who wrote songs about real people and how they felt about real things. She was a hillbilly and proud of it. This is a good article about her.

And here is a classic Loretta song, which she wrote in 1966:

Into paradise may the angels lead thee, Loretta, and at thy coming may the martyrs receive thee, and bring thee into the holy city Jerusalem. (BCP, Burial of the Dead)

And let’s not forget all those devastated people in Florida. “God is our helper who’s always with us in times of trouble. Trouble comes and goes. Hurricanes pass. But our helper never changes or leaves us. Even when our future is uncertain and our lives have been completely overturned, we know these things about God. He is almighty; he is eternal; and he loves us.”

This was a hard one!

*General Jackson’s last words.

“Let us cross over the river, and rest under the shade of the trees.”*

by chuckofish

Today is the 153rd anniversary of the death of General Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson (age 39) following the Battle of Chancellorsville, when he was shot by friendly fire on the moonlit night of May 2, 1863.

"Chancellorsville" portrait, taken at a Spotsylvania County farm on April 26, 1863, seven days before he was wounded.

“Chancellorsville” portrait, taken at a Spotsylvania County farm on April 26, 1863, seven days before he was wounded. What a face!

Here he is younger and beardless. Pretty dreamy.

stonewall-young

I have always admired Stonewall Jackson as an exemplar of the Scotch-Irish Protestants who came to this country in the eighteenth century, many of them as indentured servants, and worked and fought hard to make a home here. In fact his paternal great-grandparents (John Jackson and Elizabeth Cummins) met on the prison ship from London and fell in love. They married six years later when they gained their freedom.

The family migrated west across the Blue Ridge Mountains to settle near Moorefield, Virginia in 1758. In 1770, they moved farther west to the Tygart Valley. They began to acquire large parcels of virgin farming land near the present-day town of Buckhannon, including 3,000 acres in Elizabeth’s name. John and his two teenage sons fought in the Revolutionary War; John finished the war as a captain. While the men were in the army, Elizabeth converted their home to a haven for refugees from Indian attacks known as “Jackson’s Fort.”

Yes, the Jacksons were awesome.

Furthermore, Stonewall was a profoundly religious man and a deacon in the Presbyterian Church. One of his many nicknames was “Old Blue Lights,” a term applied to a military man whose evangelical zeal burned with the intensity of the blue light used for night-time display. He disliked fighting on Sunday, although that did not stop him from doing so after much personal debate.

Here is a poem by Herman Melville that pretty well sums up my feelings about the great Stonewall:

Mortally Wounded at Chancellorsville

The Man who fiercest charged in fight,
Whose sword and prayer were long –
Stonewall!
Even him who stoutly stood for Wrong,
How can we praise? Yet coming days
Shall not forget him with this song.

Dead is the Man whose Cause is dead,
Vainly he died and set his seal –
Stonewall!
Earnest in error, as we feel;
True to the thing he deemed was due,
True as John Brown or steel.

Relentlessly he routed us;
But we relent, for he is low –
Stonewall!
Justly his fame we outlaw; so
We drop a tear on the bold Virginian’s bier,
Because no wreath we owe.

Monument Avenue in Richmond, VA

Monument Avenue in Richmond, VA

*Stonewall Jackson’s dying words–beautiful!

Too true (this is how my brain works)

by chuckofish

“I find that a great part of the information I have was acquired by looking up something and finding something else on the way.”
–Franklin Pierce Adams

FPA made that comment back in the 1930s–what would he have made of Wikipedia?

For instance, I looked up May 10 on Wikipedia and found out that in 1863 Confederate General Stonewall Jackson died eight days after he was accidentally shot by his own troops. So I clicked on Stonewall Jackson:

I read all about Stonewall, including this fascinating bit about his ancestry:

Thomas Jonathan Jackson was the great-grandson of John Jackson (1715 or 1719 – 1801) and Elizabeth Cummins (also known as Elizabeth Comings and Elizabeth Needles) (1723 – 1828). John Jackson was a Protestant in Coleraine, County Londonderry, Ireland. While living in London, he was convicted of the capital crime of larceny for stealing £170; the judge at the Old Bailey sentenced him to a seven-year indenture in America. Elizabeth, a strong, blonde woman over 6 feet tall, born in London, was also convicted of larceny in an unrelated case for stealing 19 pieces of silver, jewelry, and fine lace, and received a similar sentence. They both were transported on the prison ship Litchfield, which departed London in May 1749 with 150 convicts. John and Elizabeth met on board and were in love by the time the ship arrived at Annapolis, Maryland. Although they were sent to different locations in Maryland for their indentures, the couple married in July 1755.

The family migrated west across the Blue Ridge Mountains to settle near Moorefield, Virginia, (now West Virginia) in 1758. In 1770, they moved further west to the Tygart Valley. They began to acquire large parcels of virgin farmland near the present-day town of Buckhannon, including 3,000 acres in Elizabeth’s name. John and his two teenage sons were early recruits for the American Revolutionary War, fighting in the Battle of Kings Mountain on October 7, 1780; John finished the war as captain and served as a lieutenant of the Virginia Militia after 1787. While the men were in the Army, Elizabeth converted their home to a haven, “Jackson’s Fort,” for refugees from Indian attacks.

John and Elizabeth had eight children. Their second son was Edward Jackson (March 1, 1759 – December 25, 1828), and Edward’s third son was Jonathan Jackson, Thomas’s father.

Stonewall’s ancestors sound awesome, don’t they? Then I saw this picture of a stained glass window depicting Jackson’s life in the Washington National Cathedral.

This took me over to the National Cathedral page:

Did you know that Woodrow Wilson, 28th U.S. president and a Presbyterian, is the only American president buried in the Cathedral and, in fact, the District of Columbia? His grandson, Francis Bowes Sayre, Jr., later became dean of the Cathedral and was also buried here. I also found out that “Stuart Symington, U.S. senator, presidential candidate” and the grandfather of a boy who was in my Sunday School class, is buried there.

I went back to Stonewall Jackson’s page.

Stonewall” Jackson statue, Manassas National Battlefield Park

Very cool indeed. But where were we? Oh yes. May 10! Lots of interesting people from Karl Barth and Fred Astaire to Dimitri Tiomkin and Maybelle Carter have birthdays today. Well, you see how it goes. Have a good day.