1. "Not Of Lizzie, But Of Her Time..."
Posted by doug65oh on Mar-25th-04 at 9:45 PM

"The Blue And The Gray"
Francis Miles Finch
(1827-1907)

By the flow of the inland river,
   Whence the fleets of iron have fled,
Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver,
   Asleep are the ranks of the dead:
        Under the sod and the dew,
            Waiting the judgment-day;
        Under the one, the Blue,
            Under the other, the Gray
These in the robings of glory,
   Those in the gloom of defeat,
All with the battle-blood gory,
   In the dusk of eternity meet:
        Under the sod and the dew,
            Waiting the judgement-day
        Under the laurel, the Blue,
            Under the willow, the Gray.

From the silence of sorrowful hours
   The desolate mourners go,
Lovingly laden with flowers
   Alike for the friend and the foe;
        Under the sod and the dew,
            Waiting the judgement-day;
        Under the roses, the Blue,
            Under the lilies, the Gray.

So with an equal splendor,
   The morning sun-rays fall,
With a touch impartially tender,
   On the blossoms blooming for all:
        Under the sod and the dew,
            Waiting the judgment-day;
        Broidered with gold, the Blue,
            Mellowed with gold, the Gray.

So, when the summer calleth,
   On forest and field of grain,
With an equal murmur falleth
   The cooling drip of the rain:
        Under the sod and the dew,
            Waiting the judgment -day,
        Wet with the rain, the Blue
            Wet with the rain, the Gray.

Sadly, but not with upbraiding,
   The generous deed was done,
In the storm of the years that are fading
   No braver battle was won:
        Under the sod adn the dew,
            Waiting the judgment-day;
        Under the blossoms, the Blue,
            Under the garlands, the Gray

No more shall the war cry sever,
   Or the winding rivers be red;
They banish our anger forever
   When they laurel the graves of our dead!
        Under the sod and the dew,
            Waiting the judgment-day,
        Love and tears for the Blue,
            Tears and love for the Gray.


http://www.civilwarhome.com/blueandgray.htm


Doug

interesting.  i've read that.  i like it -- at least, i understand it.  are you fishing for a civil war discussion or for a poetry discussion, or both?  i just wonder since i can do both.

i wonder what kept andrew out of combat.  i think it was possible to buy your way out of it, now that i'm trying to remember.

Actually I wasn't fishing - the Tennyson verse that Harry posted reminded me of this one for some reason. I had never seen nor heard of the poem until a few years back, during Memorial day ceremonies held at a Confederate POW cemetery not far from me. (If you've heard of Johnson's Island prison, that's located probably 20 minutes from me.) That is to say the cemetery is, as there's little or nothing left of the camp now.

At any rate, the Finch verse was recited by a professor who flew in specifically for that purpose. He was never able to finish the recitation dry-eyed, and it went the same way for several years.

I think the most impressive (literally stunning) sight I ever saw over there had nothing to do directly with the Finch verse, but happened one year just as things were finishing up. Folks were milling about, talking and such and getting ready to leave when all of asudden this fairly young looking gal walks by - middle 20s to 30s or so, atractive. She was dressed in full widow's garb from head to foot, mourning veil and all, and carried a small folding chair. If ever there was a sight that would make you freeze in your tracks, that's one!

She carried the chair nearby to a grave, unfolded it and sat down; from behind, where I stood, it looked as though she bowed her head, and within a very short while, the shoulders began to shake, as though she was weeping. Not a person watching moved - I don't believe anyone really thought they saw what was happening. After a few minutes I left. To this day, although I'm sure it had to be planned, I can't tell you for sure that it was. It was though, one of the most appropriate (and tasteful) reminders I have ever seen.

Moving over to Andrew, he would have been about 38.5 years old at the start of the war - a wee bit long in the tooth to go trotting away to war. On the other side of the coin though, you find men both older and just slightly younger by a few years. The cost of a substitute was as best I recollect somewhere near $300.00. It wouldn't be inconceivable that Andrew or the Borden family paid his way out. I think by the time the first conscripts were taken (July, 1863?) Sarah was dead, and there was the matter of the children to be cared for. Even so, it's an interesting question.




Doug

I'm sure Andrew J. Borden would have served in the militia of his day. All males had to. But the militia could not be sent out of state or country, by law. After the Draft was started in 1863 there was a loophole where you could buy your way out; many did. That $300 sounds close to the enlistment bonus paid to volunteer enlistees.

Most of the armed men of the Union were Volunteer Corps. Read Robert Utley's "Frontiersmen in Blue" for details now censored from the history books. Roosevelt's "Rough Riders" were the last Volunteer Corps.
...
Age alone wouldn't disqualify you from joining. The most important thing was to have all your teeth (to bite off the end of a paper cartridge). Generally, the younger the more likely to have good teeth.
Do you know how important teeth are to health in general?

(Message last edited Mar-26th-04  9:32 AM.)

A perfect example of parlor poetry, Doug! They made and can still make stirring recitations when done by a fine reader. (Of course, the converse, is true, as well.)

--Lyddie

(Message last edited Mar-26th-04  8:04 PM.)

since i'm interested in both the civil war and poetry, i appreciated the post.  i've noticed lately the civil war often pops up as a backdrop to some lizzie-related issue -- or to some tangent that happens in a thread.  i've seen photos of recently discovered artifacts from the POW camp you refer to.  (i've lost track of what is going on with the hunley, but from what i did see, what was so fascinating about that was that they are all still in there more or less intact with bodily possessions, etc.) i've never seen anything like the scene you describe at that ceremony though i'd like to -- i would have probably stood there waiting for her to de-materialize.

"...i've never seen anything like the scene you describe at that ceremony though i'd like to -- i would have probably stood there waiting for her to de-materialize."

I found myself thinking the very same thing!

What I thought of actually was, if you've seen that PBS Ken Burns series on the war near the end Shelby Foote was reading I think from Sgt. Barry Benson's memoir - the passage which describes a time when they might all meet again. The most haunting line was the double question: "Did it not seem real?? Was it not just as in the old days?" I'm still mystified to think that only 45 years have passed since the last known veteran of the Civil War passed on.

I've lost track of the archeological explorations at Johnson's Island. Last May, a new memorial was dedicated there, but I was not able to go over. The irony is that the site was chosen for its "mild climate." It starts getting cold over there just about early autumn, and only gets worse from there!



Doug