The history we learned in school was written by the winners ! The True history of war is written by its warriors.
Friday, August 31, 2012
Thursday, August 30, 2012
April 1863
Well I changed browsers and it seems to be working!
Monday, August 27, 2012
Quotes ?
Tonight at my SCV meeting a handout was given to us.
Some of the quotes are questionable.
All comments are welcome !
Some of the quotes are questionable.
All comments are welcome !
Jan 1st 1863
_____________________________________________________________________
Christmas
Dinner
When Fiction
Became Fact
By
WILLIAM MEADE DAME, D. D.
One bright spot in that “winter of our discontent”—lives in my memory. It
was on the Christmas Day of 1863. That was a day specially hard to get through.
The rations were very short indeed that day—only a little bread, no meat. As we
went, so hungry, about our work, and remembered the good and abundant cheer
always belonging to Christmas time; as we thought of “joys we had tasted in past
years” that did not “return” to us, now, and felt the woeful difference in our
insides—it made us sad. It was harder to starve on Christmas Day than any day of
the winter.
When the long day was over and night had come, some twelve or
fifteen of us, congenial comrades, had gathered in a group, and were sitting out
of doors around a big camp fire, talking about Christmas, and trying to keep
warm and cheer ourselves up. One fellow proposed what he called a game, and it
was at once taken up—though it was a silly thing to do, as it only made us
hungrier than ever. The game was this—we were to work our fancy, and imagine
that we were around the table at “Pizzini’s,” in Richmond. Pizzini was the
famous restauranteur who was able to keep up a wonderful eating house all
through the war, even when the rest of Richmond was nearly starving. Well—in
reality, now, we were all seated on the ground around that fire, and very
hungry. In imagination we were all gathered ’round Pizzini’s with unlimited
credit and free to call for just what we wished. One fellow tied a towel on him,
and acted as the waiter—with pencil and paper in hand going from guest to guest
taking orders—all with the utmost gravity. “Well, sir, what will you have?” he
said to the first man. He thought for a moment and then said (I recall that
first order, it was monumental) “I will have, let me see—a four-pound steak, a
turkey, a jowl and turnip tops, a peck of potatoes, six dozen biscuits, plenty
of butter, a large pot of coffee, a gallon of milk and six pies—three lemon and
three mince—and hurry up, waiter—that will do for a start; see ’bout the rest
later.” This was an order for one, mind you. The next several were like unto it.
Then, one guest said, “I will take a large saddle of mountain mutton, with a
gallon of crabapple jelly to eat with it, and as much as you can tote of other
things.”
This, specially the crabapple jelly, quite struck the next man. He
said, “I will take just the same as this gentleman.” So the next, and the next.
All the rest of the guests took the mountain mutton and jelly. All this absurd
performance was gone through with all seriousness—making us wild with
suggestions of good things to eat and plenty of it. The waiter took all the
orders and carefully wrote them down, and read them out to the guest to be sure
he had them right. Just as we were nearly through with this Barmecide feast, one
of the boys, coming past us from the Commissary tent, called out to me, “Billy,
old Tuck is just in (Tucker drove the Commissary wagon and went up to Orange for
rations) and I think there is a box, or something, for you down at the tent.” I
got one of our crowd to go with me on the jump. Sure enough, there was a great
big box for me—from home.
We got it on our shoulders and trotted back up
to the fire. The fellows gathered
around, the top was off that box in a
jiffy, and there, right on top, the first thing we came to—funny to tell, after
what had just occurred—was the biggest saddle of mountain mutton, and a
two-gallon jar of crabapple jelly to eat with it. The box was packed with all
good, solid things to eat—about a bushel of biscuits and butter and sausage and
pies, etc., etc.We all pitched in with a whoop. In ten minutes after the top was
off, there was not a thing left in that box except one skin of sausage which I
saved for our mess next morning. You can imagine how the boys did enjoy it. It
was a bully way to end up that hungry Christmas Day. I wrote my thanks and the
thanks of all the boys to my mother and sisters, who had packed that box, and I
described the scene as I have here described it, which made them realize how
welcome and acceptable their kind present was—and what comfort and pleasure it
gave—all the more that it came to us on Christmas Day, and made it a joyful
one—at the end, at least.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Friday, August 24, 2012
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Monday, August 20, 2012
Feb 10 1862
Many of the letters I'm posting are used as a reference in this book by
Lee Wallace Jr.
Including the second paragraph in this letter.
Feb 1 1862
______________________________________________________________________________
I had a question the other day that seemed to question the validity of the letters I'm posting.
All the original hand written letters and transcripts can be found at -------
The Virginia Historical Society Call # Mss2t1896b.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Friday, August 17, 2012
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
FOUR YEARS UNDER MARSE ROBERT
FOUR YEARS UNDER MARSE ROBERT:
Stiles, Robert, 1836-1905
Surely it was not for slavery they fought. The great
majority of them had never owned a slave and had little or no interest in the
institution. My own father, for example, had freed his slaves long years
before; that is, all save one, who would not be "emancipated," our
dear "Mammy," who clung to us when we moved to the North and never
recognized any change in her condition or her relations to us. The great
conflict will never be properly comprehended by the man who looks upon it as a
war for the preservation of slavery.
Nor was it, so
far as Virginia was concerned, a war in support of the right of secession or
the Southern interpretation of the Constitution. Virginia did not favor this
interpretation; at least, she did not favor the exercise of the right of
secession. Up to President Lincoln's call for troops she refused to secede. She
changed her position under the distinct threat of invasion--the demand that she
help coerce her sister States. This was the turning point. The Whig party, the
anti-secession party of Virginia, became the war party of Virginia upon this
issue. As John B. Baldwin, the great Whig and Union leader, said, speaking of
the effect of Lincoln's call for troops, "We have no Union men in Virginia
now." The change of front was instantaneous, it was intuitive. Jubal Early
was the type of his party--up to the proclamation, the most extreme
anti-secessionist and anti-war man in the Virginia Convention; after the
proclamation, the most enthusiastic man in the Commonwealth in advocacy of the
war and personal service in it.
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