The Lost Adams Digging

The Lost Adams Diggings is a Southwestern treasure story that refers to the existence of a canyon rich in gold deposits somewhere in western New Mexico in the early 1860s. Read the Wiki article, about a man named Adams who found a canyon so full of gold that, as his guide described it, “it dripped from the walls.” Then, read the account by a Dr. Ron Jenson, who claims to have found the site…it sounds convincing, though I can’t imagine why he would post it rather than exploiting the site….

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The Historic King Arthur

There is a strong probability that something wonderful happened sometime around the year 510 A.D. This something was so wonderful that a name, Arthur, had to be attached to this event, and this name has resounded for almost two millennium in story and poem, representing the ideal of heroism and nobility. In fact, it might be that this man Arthur was one of the first of many to have, single handedly, saved England, Europe and Western Civilization.

 On the other hand, it is also quite possible that nothing happened in that year. The fact is, we don’t know, for sure, that anything happened, and we don’t know, for sure, that a man such as Arthur actually existed. This is the period known as the Dark Ages; if anyone was writing anything down, they weren’t saving it, and we have no records of what was happening in this period.

 Yet, we can infer much. For one thing, the Saxon Invaders wrote up a yearly record of their conquests, known as the ‘Anglo Saxon Chronicles.’ For a hundred years after the fall of Rome, in 410, A.D., the Saxons recorded fight after fight, victory after victory in Britain…but after 510, A.D., there was no record of any victory, much less any activity, in Britain. Someone beat them, and beat them so bad, that they did not come back for close to a hundred years.

 The story of the historic King Arthur is one of the most wonderful historical mysteries in the modern world. On the one hand, there is plenty of information available. On the other hand, most of that information is suspect, for one reason or another, and the big part of the mystery is deciding which information to accept. Over the years, there have been a plethora of books describing who Arthur really was. Each of these authors had all the same information available to them…and each of them have come to an entirely different conclusion as to the history of the period, and of the ‘true identity’ of Arthur. One author places him in Scotland, another in France, under the real, historical, name of Riothamus (which is probably a title, not a name). If you have any interest in history, this is a period that will keep you fascinated for years.

 So, what do we know?  

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Lincoln and Sickles After Gettysburg, or Abraham LIncoln’s Religious Faith

This pamphlet was given to me by a descendant of Major General Daniel Sickles to thank me for my spirited defense of Major Sickles’ actions at Gettysburg. It is the ONLY account on record of the conversation between Major Sickles immediately after the Battle of Gettysburg and Abraham Lincoln, the first news Lincoln had of the battle. The events reported here are not known by many historians…as I am probably the only one interested in the Third Army Corps Union, for whom this address was made.

Address of General James F. Rusling at the 46th Anniversary
of the Third Army Corps, Union. Hotel Manhattan,
New York. May 5, 1910.

Sickles and Lincoln after Gettysburg; or Abraham Lincoln’s Religious Faith.

  Companions in arms, and Comrades of the Third Army Corps

I salute and greet you tonight, and bid you one and all a hearty hail and God-speed. What the Tenth legion was to Caesar ; what the Old Guard was to Napoleon this, and more, the Third Army Corps, under Sickles, was to the Army of the Potomac, and History will keep its splendid valor and brilliant achievements memorable forever. But I am to speak to-night not so much of these, but by invitation of your Committee am to tell of a memorable interview between our distinguished corps commander, Major-General Sickles and President Lincoln, after the Battle of Gettysburg, in my immediate presence or as Virgil wrote, “Part of which I was and all of which I saw.” I hold it to be of marked historic value, as fixing absolutely the Religious Faith of Abraham Lincoln, and as such I commend it to your consideration.

It was on Sunday, July 5th. 1863 the Sunday after the Battle of Gettysburg. The battle. as you know, was fought heroically on both sides on July 1st, 2nd and 3rd. In the terrible conflict of Thursday, July 2nd, held by many to have been the real battle of Gettysburg, because of the titanic fighting and awful Confederate losses, which took the life out of Lee’s army, General Sickles, while in active command of the Third Corps, had been frightfully wounded by a Confederate ball or shell his right leg had been amputated above the knee on the field: the next day or so he was carried by his men, on a stretcher, to the nearest railroad (some miles away) and the Sunday following, arrived in Washington he was taken to a private residence on F Street nearly opposite to the Ebbit House, where he had for several months reserved a floor for his own use. Here I found him on the first floor, reclining on a hospital stretcher, when I called to see him about 3 P. M. of that day. I was then Lieutenant Colonel and Chief Quartermaster on his staff, and naturally eager to see “My General”. The only other officer present was Captain Fry, also of his staff, now long since deceased. I found the General in much pain and distress at times, and weak and enfeebled from loss of blood but calm and collected and with the same iron will and clearness of intellect, that always characterized him in those Civil War days, and apparently always will.

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William Harrison Merritt

 

William H. Merritt, his daughter, Evangeline ("Eva") and sister, Lydia...taken around 1898

William H. Merritt, his daughter, Evangeline (“Eva”) and sister, Lydia…taken around 1898

 

from pages 80-81 & 82 of “Bolivar, N.Y. Pioneer Oil Town” by: John P. Herrick, The Ward Ritchie Press Los Angeles, Cal. 1952

Of the many oil region stories told to the writer, none surpasses in human interest that of William H. Merritt, for many years a resident of the town of Genesee, Allegany County, New York0 A veteran of the Civil War, he was a farmer, an oil producer, poet laureàte of the New York’s Allegheny County – one who “lived in a house by the side of the road and was a friend of man.” And he proved that poets can succeed in business, when, in 1919, he exchanged his oil properties for one hundred thousand dollars.

His diversions were writing verse, playing the violin, attending Grand Army and Masonic reunions, oil producers meet ings State Oil Producer’s breeding Shetland ponies. His brother James, mentally ill, lived with him for some years on the home farm. Neighbors hinted that James should be placed in an institution, but they did not know that a pledge, stronger than steel, bound the brothers, one to the other.

When President Lincoln called for volunteers, William and James journeyed to the home of their brother, Welcome Merritt, in Orange County, New York. The three had agreed by letter to enlist in the same company, but Welcome, due to injuries suffered in a hunting accident, was rejected. William and James enlisted in the Orange Blossoms, as the Orange County Regiment was known throughout the war. On enlistment day they made a solemn vow that, “as long as grass grows and water runs,” come what may, they would never be separated. At the battle of Antietam, fighting side by side, Wil1iam was seriously wounded, and James carried him off the field on his back. Weeks passed before William left the hospital to rejoin his brother in camp.n the fierce fighting in which their company engaged above rock-strewn Devil’s Den at Gettysburg, the brothers were parted all day, but found each other at dusk. In searching among the dead and wounded for his missing brother that afternoon, William turned over a body he felt certain was that of James- the bearded faces were so alike – but he was mistaken. The dead man was an officer, whose sword and scabbard were taken by William and retained as war mementos.

Only three members of their company stacked guns at the rendezvous that night, so desperate had been the fighting and so heavy the toll. The third member was their tentmate, John Tucker, who years after the war, resided in the Bradford oil fields, in Pennsylvania. William twice declined promotion because it meant separation from his brother, and made entries in a diary each night, expressing gratitude to God for the preservation of their lives.

from: Bolivar, New York’s “Pioneer Oil Town” by:J.P. Herrick

William was aware of the criticism for keeping his brother at his home, but he never explained his actions, except to one close friend. He felt that he must keep inviolate his solemn pledge to James, who had braved shellfire to carry his wounded body to a zone of safety. And it was impossible for James in his mental condition, to release him from their vow.

A devoted sister, Lydia Jane Merritt, who managed the farm home for many years, knew of the bond that linked her brothers and agreed that it should continue so long as James lived. Miss Lydia lightened all the burdens of their household and played the organ accompaniment to her brother’s violin.

There came a day when William was seriously injured in a trolley wreck, and it was feared that he might never walk again. The news of the accident was at first kept from James but later he was gently told by his brother Welcome. “That is too bad, I am just a burden to William,” he said.

All day he was restless and depressed. That night the Angel of Death swooped low over the farmhouse on the hillside and wafted away the spirit of the demented brother, sundering the vow of fidelity to their pledged word. William recovered from his injuries and lived to be 86.

In the century-old cemetery at Little Genesee, New York, not far from a transcontinental highway, side by side, there are two graves. Over these mounds spring flowers bloom, summer winds whisper, autumn leaves fall, and winter snows drift – and new flags wave on each Memorial Day. The flags mark the graves of William and James Merritt, brothers and comrades in arms, faithful to their pledged word in life reunited in death.

James Merritt Grave, Genessee, NYWilliam H. Merritt Grave, Little Genessee, NY

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Sgt. Laurinda Anna Blair Etheridge, the Angel of the Third Corps

ANNA ETHEREDIGE – The Angel of the 3rd Corps.

The "Angel of the Third Corps."

The “Angel of the Third Corps.”

Anna Etheridge was a woman who was known to every man of the  3rd Corps of the Army of the Potomac. She is mentioned in numerous regimental histories that I’ve read from this corps, and I don’t think a history of the Corps can be written without talking about her.

Anna was a nurse from Wisconsin. She joined the Second  Michigan in Detroit, but she then transferred her allegiance to the Third Michigan in the field with it. She never carried a rifle, or course, but it was said that she carried pistols. She was wounded in the hand at Chancellorsville. General Kearny gave her the Kearny Cross for her devotion to the wounded at Fair Oaks, and commissioned her as a regimental sergeant. She was sometimes called Michigan Annie, and Gentle Annie.

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Thanksgiving, the Pilgrims and John Wayne

Today is our holiday of Thanksgiving. It celebrates a very famous feast, a harvest feast in the year 1621, shared by some of our original settlers, called ‘Pilgrims’ and the members of a local Indian tribe that had found advantage in allying with the Pilgrims against its own enemies. This mutual alliance, and the feast which celebrated it, has become symbolic of the founding of European civilization on the new world.

It has become fashionable these days to denigrate these symbols, and that is not a difficult thing to do. In fact, these Pilgrims were not terribly nice people. They were as religiously intolerant as were most Christians at the time. They did not come here to be friends with the local inhabitants, and some of their first acts were those of depredation, despoiling local graves, digging up caches of food that the local inhabitants had counted on for their survival, and taking land which was not theirs.

The local inhabitants were not saints, either. They were, by European standards, uncivilized. They lived in various states of constant warfare with their neighbors, and had no compunction about wiping these neighbors off the face of the Earth, if they had the opportunity.

Somehow, though, with all these faults, these two groups of people found common ground, and were able to sit down, feast, and spend a few days in games and frivolity. It is, in fact, a good symbol for this country; the ideal was the picture of the pastoral feast. The reality was all underneath, as it is, even today. We cannot pretend that we are Saints, but we keep symbols like this in our minds in order to remind ourselves of the ideals for which we are striving. There is nothing wrong with either the reality or the ideal. It is what makes us human.

This concept of symbolism should be looked at very closely. I am currently discussing John Wayne, with someone on the internet. This individual seeks to demonstrate that John Wayne was “an avowed white supremacist, a draft evader, supporter of Joe McCarthy and George Wallace, and a big booster of the Vietnam War. He in fact sharply criticized those (like himself in WWII) who avoided military service during the Vietnam War. This guy was a big conservative jerk-off”

Now, all those points are ridiculous, and I pointed that out to him, but that is not even the point he is missing at all. He was no interested in the facts of the situation, he was attacking John Wayne as a symbol. Wayne nearly always played the same character: a big, tough, but sentimental hero who talked straight and met the bad guys head on. That is his symbolic nature to millions of Americans. He is held up as an American icon, in the same mold as other such icons…Davy Crockett, George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, etc.

Was John Wayne actually a big, tough, sentimental man who talked straight, and met the bad guys head-on? Perhaps, sometimes but, in real life, it can be assumed that he actually had faults, and was nothing like the character he developed on the movie screen.

Were there many Americans who cared about Wayne’s private life? Not at all. Wayne created that image of the hard-fighting two-fisted cowboy because America wanted him to do so. The image that Wayne created was the image that Americans had of themselves, as a people. If John Wayne, the actor, had not created John Wayne, the symbol, someone else would have. It was an image people wanted. In fact, Wayne did have a connection with the American West, and the cowboys who peopled the West. One of the earliest cowboy stars of the American film industry was Tom Mix, who got Wayne his first job in films, in the prop department in exchange for football tickets. Tom Mix was a friend of one of the most famous Western lawmen of all time, Wyatt Earp, who actually met Wayne when Wayne was six years old…Tom Mix had gotten his start as a cowboy on the most famous ranch of all time, the 101 Ranch, in Oklahoma. Wayne was more qualified to put himself up as the symbol of the American West as anyone else. He was a living reminder of our Western Past.

So, here we have two symbols of America, two images of how Americans see themselves. In the one, we have Europeans sharing a meal, in peace, and thankfulness for their bounty, with their neighbors, neighbors who share almost no values, no goals, no desires or even a viable frame of reference with each other but who, in spite of that, can sit down, share a meal and enjoy some moments of togetherness and gratitude to a greater being for the bounty that has been given them.

And we have John Wayne, the symbol of our great Western expansion, which brought us from that small gathering in Plymouth, Massachusetts to the shores of California. Embodied in those symbols were all the heartaches and tragedies of life in a wilderness, of the conflicts between peoples who wanted their share of the richness and bounty that the nation could provide. In the Pilgrims, we see the sharing of the bounty of the nation, in John Wayne we see the strength and honesty of a nation naïve enough to believe that we can all share this richness, bounty, strength and honesty. If people truly want to understand this nation, they should understand these two symbols. NOT the reality of the history of the nation, but the image that these symbols represent, and that we strive to emulate. The symbols are the heart of the nation, and as long as we maintain these images as our ideals, we will be Americans.

As those of you who have followed my columns would admit, I have a love-hate relationship with America. I love America for what those symbols represent, and love those people who have striven to uphold the image of what America could be. Far too often, Americans stray from the ideals upon which this country were established, and I am disappointed. Most of what passes for anti-Americanism within this country is based on that same disappointment. People look at the images of what the country should represent, and scorn the fact that the country does not meet the ideal.

It is foolish. We are people, and subject to failure…the wonderful thing about the country that these Pilgrims started IS the image of John Wayne….is the fact that, more often than not, we do rise to the ideals. To quote Winston Churchill, “Americans always do the right thing…after trying everything else, first.” I love this country for that reason. In the end, we are a good people, and the nation reflects that goodness. Chide us for the bad, but love us for the good we do.

Enjoy your Thanksgiving, people…and do not forget to give thanks for what you have, and what you can give. We are all blessed to be living in the United States, in the 21st century. May God bless you all, and bless the United States of America.


© 2006 Steve Haas, All Rights Reserved. The author also has his own weblog, Amber.

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The American Left’s Support For Totalitarianism

The political left has a proud record on some issues. Its main claim to fame is the unionization of the working class, a hard fought battle which was, in many cases, necessary. It has a reputation of championing the cause of workers, the ‘underclass,’ defined as those who live at an economic level that is below the median income of the rest of society, and ‘minorities,’ defined, basically, as those of a different culture than the mainstream who also belong to the underclass.

In fact, though, if one examines these positions carefully, one can detect a basic, underlying theme, which changes the benevolent image of the left in a dramatic way. Unionism is, basically, anti-Capitalist. Sure, it changes the living standard of the worker, in the short term, but it forces a wage scale upon the business that has no real relationship to the realities of the market. Sure, someone has to be an advocate for those who do not have the resources to fight for themselves in a more and more complex society, but this is not where the Left focuses its energies; its main focus is attempting to siphon off capital from society to give to people who do not contribute to society in any way that justifies this capital.

In fact, the Left is totalitarian. It is the best equivalent, today of anarchist, totalitarian movements that have always plagued society. It parades itself as the champion of the underrepresented, and appeals to politically naïve young college students and adults who can see people being hurt, and want quick answers to help them, but it takes these positions simply to gain the support of these people. They are a ready pool of votes that can be appealed to with simplistic answers, and the left has a self-interest in never improving their position in life. Look at Venezuela, where Hugo Chavez is rapidly dismantling the economy of the country, with the support of the poor, to form a Communist State.

What I say, above, is not radical. It is history. If one looks at the antecedents of the modern left, today, one can go back to the Russian Revolution, and the many Socialist and anarchist elements fermenting beneath the surface of the Russian Revolution. When the Bolsheviks took control of Russian, murdering the Czar, his wife and his children, they established the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, and unleashed a reign of terror upon the world that was to last 80 years, killing many tens of thousands of its own citizens of its own people.

That has to be the logical, natural and inevitable result of the ideology of the Left, for they do not believe people will do what they think is best for them; they do not believe in Democracy. In the United States, they look to the courts to gain their issues, because they cannot get them past Congress. They believe they know what is best, and are not willing to let people decide for themselves. They are totalitarians.

There is no megalomaniacal mass-murderer that the Left has not supported, no Democracy that it has supported.

  • The Nation supported Lenin,  and still supports the enemies of the west today.
  • The dramatist Maxim  Gorky was in Russia, cheering on the Lenin killing, and later cheering on the Stalin killing. He called for the extermination of Stalin’s enemies “like lice”. He supported the gulag system, and glorified the use of innocents as slave labour.
  • The Guardian supported  Stalin, and sacked the brave Malcolm  Muggeridge for telling the West about the genocidal Ukrainian  Famine (when perhaps 7 million people were deliberately starved to death by Stalin).
  • The New York Times  supported Stalin, and denied the Ukrainian Famine was happening
  • George  Bernard Shaw (and here) despised  democracy, supported Lenin, Stalin and the Soviet purges, and denied the      Ukrainian Famine happened. He also supported Hitler, and denied the Holocaust happened
  • The Daily Mail, under Lord Rothermere, supported Hitler, Nazi Germany, Mussolini and British      fascism in the 1930s
  • The writer and critic John Middleton  Murry, editor of the pacifist Peace News, said in 1940, as Britain fought desperately for its survival against genocidal Nazi Germany: “Personally I don’t believe that a Hitlerian Europe would be quite so terrible as most people believe it would be.”
  • The pacifist Vera Brittain complained about the publicity given to the gas chambers when      they were discovered in 1945. She said they were being publicised: “partly, at least, in order to divert attention from the havoc produced in German cities by alliedobliteration bombing.”

 I could go on, but one can see the pattern, here. Today it is the Leftist politicians and intellectuals, such as Jimmy Carter, and Noam Chomsky, who are the most fervent supporters of the homicidal terrorist organizations spawned by radical Islam, and the most fervent opponents of our attempts to defend ourselves against Islam.

If one can see this pattern, one can understand much of what is going on in politics, today. While it might be that many Democratic leaders are sincere in their positions, they are controlled, at present, by far-left organizations, such as Moveon.org and la Raza,  which are not friends of Democracy. Too often we, as Conservatives, try to argue with them on a rational basis, assuming that we all want what is best for us and our country…when, in fact, we are arguing against people who want to destroy us almost as much as our more fervent enemies. They might not even know it themselves, as they are being manipulated, but we cannot assume their good intentions. They do not trust Democracy. They do not like Capitalism. They want a totalitarian State that they feel will be benevolent, under principles they establish.

We can tolerate ‘democrats’ and anarchists, under normal circumstances, but circumstances are rarely ‘normal.’ We are always under attack by those who envy the sweat of our labor, and want to take what we have worked for, here in the United States. While in our system, everyone has a right to an opinion, we cannot ever forget that some of those people with an opinion are not our friends, and are not simply ‘political opponents’ in a Democratic system, they are fascists who want to bring out system down by using the system.

We have a right, in America, to have opinions, even idiotic opinions. In fact, it is our strength that we allow whacko opinions….sometimes they turn out to be right.

I am not suggesting we round them up the Left, and put them into camps, but we, as Conservatives, have to hammer the point that these people are not our friends, not friends of our system, our heritage, our people. They might say they ‘love’ America, by the America they love is not the America that exists, but the America they want to be…and that is what we have to fight.

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Fragment of a Bill Merrit Story

I wrote this a long while ago, when I thought I could be a writer. I kind of like it…but it never went anyplace:

It is 1863, and we (James and me) have been in the army for, oh, almost a year now, within which we have fought in three major battles and marched hundreds and hundreds of miles. As I watch the steam rise from my breath in this frigid air, and watch the steam rising from the breaths of my ‘enemy’ across the way, it seems amazing to me that we survived this long. We were always in the thickest of  the fighting we participated in, except for Fredricksburg where we had a great show of our brave boys being slaughtered on Maryes’ Heights. More than once I heard the grim whistle of death as that thick pellet  of lead whistled past my head or plucked at my coat or pants. Fortunately,  neither me or James have been wounded yet. I wonder how long that will last. We have lost a passle of friends already. Will our names be joining that tragic roll within the coming years? I don’t know. I don’t know why I stay in this. It is supposed to be for God, Country, family and friends, I know. But what does that mean? Who really cares if I die here?  If I go now and hide away until they stop looking for me, I can live my life married with my wife and kids around me and, assuming my conscience lets me, have a wonderful life. If I stay here, I will probably die, and my mother and family will be grief stricken. Who would stay with those choices to be made? Yet I stay.

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Mr. Washington

Today is the anniversary of the birth of our first President, George Washington. We, as a nation, have chosen not to celebrate this day special and apart from any other President, and I would be the last to disparage the collective judgment of the American people on a subject such as this. Personally think the day to be important, and thus I would like to say a few words about a man who I consider to be a personal, albeit long dead, friend.

The fact is, I like Mr. Washington. He turned out to be the perfect choice for our first General, and our First President, not to mention the title “father of our country.” He represents, to me, everything for which this country was founded, and everything for which we, as a people, should strive. He was, in today’s parlance, a ‘righteous dude,’ a person who lived an amazing life. The sad part, to me, about the lack of interest the people of the United States show in their history is that they miss the joy of reading of the lives of such extraordinary people. We find many doubting that anyone was, in fact, extraordinary, and even try to disparage them, and bring them down to earth.

There are, however, people in history for whom the more one studies, the better that person becomes, people without peer, without fault. Winston Churchill was such a person, to me. Abraham Lincoln, another…and there are many more people can find whose lives are worth emulating. It is not that they were, in fact, perfect; I am sure Churchill, at some point in his life, picked his nose, or had impure thoughts about a woman or other…Abraham Lincoln was prone to deep depressions, and, for one year of his life, after the death of his first true love, Anne Rutledge, was most likely, from any definition, insane.

These people lived exemplary lives, nevertheless. They did not have affairs. They did not seek gain at the expense of others. They devoted their lives, heart and honor to the public good. Few of us can live up to those standards, which is why they should be held up as examples to be followed. People need those examples, to show that it is possible.

Thus we have George Washington. To me, Mr. Washington was a cross between John Wayne and David Niven; a man born to be an aristocrat, who did not shirk from living a harsh life in the wilderness, when called upon to do so, who never shrank from a fight, if there was any chance of winning, who often lost, but never gave up, and carried every enterprise he started to the end, one way or another. He is a man who I would have been proud to be, a man to whom I would have been proud to have been considered a friend, a man whose good opinion I would have treasured and honored above all.

Mr. Washington was born in 1731. At the age of 16, he was sent, as a surveyor, into the wilderness West of the Blue RidgeMountain, an uncharted land still inhabited by hostile Indians. A year later, at the age of 17, he was appointed chief surveyor of the newly formed Culpepper county. As district adjutant, which made (December 1752) him Major Washington at the age of 20, he was charged with training the militia in the quarter assigned him. Such a rise in responsibility was evidence of the regard in which he was held by his peers.

In 1753, the French and Indian War began, and Mr. Washington fired among the first shots in this war. He was sent to tell the French to leave the Ohio Valley. When they refused, he attacked a small force of Frenchmen, killing an envoy sent to demand that he leave the area…in fact, it can be said that Washington began the course of events resulting in the start of the French Revolution with this act; the death of this envoy so outraged the French that they began what later came to be known as the “French and Indian Wars.” The French lost these wars and the effort bankrupted the French government….which caused them to raise taxes which resulted, eventually, in their revolution.

In 1755, he was with a British expedition, under General Braddock, which was defeated at the Monogahela; Mr. Washington distinguished himself, having two horses shot out from under him, and his clothes holed by many bullets. His reward was, at the age of 24, to be appointed commander in chief of Virginia forces, and spent the next three years fighting a savage warfare, averaging two engagements a month with inadequate forces and few supplies.

He was, thus, the obvious choice for commander in chief of the American armies when the American Revolution came about. He had more experience commanding troops in combat than anyone else, and was respected by all who knew him.

Mr. Washington’s greatness as a military commander was not because of his skills as a military commander. He was, in fact, trounced by the British in almost every engagement where he faced organized British troops. His greatness stems from the fact that he did not quit, through some very bad times, and that he kept the army together when many counseled defeat and surrender. Though expressing discouragement, often, in his private letters, he was, in public, the soul of inspiration, a man who soldiers would follow through bitter weather and defeat. Of course, in the end, he led his army to victory against the British…and there was no one else who the nation could think to vote for the first President of the United States than Mr. George Washington. We owe him, above all others, the gratitude for the survival of our revolution.

So it is hard for me to not like the man. He was a man of the people, a man who could have lived his life in aristocratic splendor, but chose the hard life of a soldier…not for glory so much as because that was the type of man he was. He was a hard drinker, a fighter, a man who I am positive had a vigorous love life before he met his wife (what woman could resist a handsome young man such as that, who had wealth and land), but whose marriage was never stained with the hint of dishonor. His life, in fact, was never stained with a hint of dishonor. He was a man who we can and should emulate, as a people, and one whose life can stand as a symbol of the best to which we aspire to the rest of the world.

It seems shameful that there is a national holiday to another man, but none to our First President.  I can only hope that some day we choose, again, to recognize the contribution of Mr. Washington to this country by restoring, to him, a day in his honor.

Thank you Mr. Washington, for our country. May God bless you, and may your name forever be remembered by the grateful descendants of your efforts.

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Jane Grey Swisshelm

I find that, sometimes, I read so much about certain people that I feel that I know them, often as well as I know people who I am acquainted with in life. My first contribution is just such a person, one of the most prominent women feminists, one whose name is notable for its lack of recognition, Jane Grey Cannon Swisshelm.

Jane Grey Swishelm

Jane fascinates me because she was so incredibly strong-willed and unyielding. Even as a feminist, she ardently disagreed with many platforms taken by the mainstream of feminism, regarding much of the feminist movement as silly and irrelevant. For instance, one strain of feminist thought, at the time, had it that the big difference between men and women was the fact that men wore pants, so feminists were encouraged to wear bloomers, a feminine undergarment split in the middle so a woman’s legs were divided. To quote from her autobiography, “Half a Century,”

 while men were defending their pantaloons, they (i.e. feminists) created and spread the idea, that masculine supremacy lay in the form of their garments, and that a woman dressed like a man would be as potent as he.Strange as it may now seem, they succeeded in giving such efficacy to the idea, that no less a person than Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton was led astray by it, so that she set her cool, wise head to work and invented a costume, which she believed would emancipate woman from thraldom. Her invention was adopted by her friend Mrs. Bloomer, editor and proprietor of the Lily, a small paper then in infancy in Syracuse, N.Y., and from her, the dress took its name—“the bloomer.” Both women believed in their dress, and staunchly advocated it as the sovereignest remedy for all the ills that woman’s flesh is heir to.

Jane was born in 1815, to strict Calvinist family, In 1836 married James Swisshelm. The couple moved to Louisville, Kentucky and it was not long before she became involved in the campaign against slavery and became a member of the Underground Railroad. In 1848 Swisshelm established her own anti-slavery newspaper, the Pittsburgh Saturday Visiter. Swisshelm also used the newspaper to advocate women’s rights. She was also paid $5 a week by Horace Greeley for contributing a weekly article for the New York Tribune. On 17th April, 1850, Swisshelm became the first woman to sit in the Senate press gallery.

In 1858, Jane moved to St. Cloud Minnesota, where she established a newspaper called the “St. Cloud Visitor.” In 1860, her paper was sacked and burned by a pro-Slavery Mob, for her support of the Dred Scott decision and the emancipation of the Slaves who were annually brought to Minnesota by Southern tourists summering in Minnesota. She moved across the river to St. Paul, where she set up another newspaper.

In 1862 occurred the Great Dakota (Sioux) Uprising, where almost 1000 Minnesotans were killed by the Dakota Indians, upset because their promised supplies had not been delivered by the government. Once suppressed, the local military condemned 330 Indians to be hung, for depredations. President Lincoln commuted all but 33 of these, and the Minnesota Legislature voted to send Jane to Washington to argue against the commutation; though Jane was ardently anti-Slavery and ardently feminist, she hated the Indians for their depredations, and felt that they were simply freeloading off of the government.

In Washington, she was offered a position in the government. While waiting for the appointment to take effect, she became aware of the pitiable state of medical care available to wounded soldiers during the American Civil War. She became a nurse, and immediately earned the enmity of the doctors, because the rate of survival of her patients was higher than that of many of the doctors, and she had no problem upbraiding the doctors for their methods. She actually listened to the patients, treated their symptoms with common sense and, in that vein, developed new treatments for Pyaemia, Gangrene and other forms of Septicemia which were considered fatal at the time. Her treatments were adopted by some of the doctors, but opposed by many others, and if it were not for the friends she had in high office, her successes would have succeeded in having her removed as a nurse.

In all, Jane was an independent thinker, whose opinions were her own. She refused to allow popular opinion to sway her, but stood for what she believed. Her opinions were sometimes objectionable, as her advocation of the hanging of the Dakota warriors of the 1862 uprising, but they were her own opinions, and she stood by them.

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