I decided to take a hike in the wooded area just north of Mathew’s hill. The woods were quiet and peaceful. I noticed a quick moving shadow on the forest floor, and when I looked up I saw a falcon soaring overhead. New growth was sprouting up everywhere. Yet for some reason there were a large number of up rooted trees like the one in this drawing. These fallen trees would often be supported by the trees around it as if they were trying to prop it back up. To me these fallen were the only symbols of the violent struggles that took place in these woods more than 140 years ago.
8th Georgia Infantry under the command of Lt. Col. W. N. Gardner
“Away we went straight into the teeth of the murderous fire. We entered a thicket and were within 100 yards of the enemy. Yet not a gun of ours was fired until the command ‘commence firing’ was given. Most of the men were cool as cucumbers – each would load, pick his man, and take deliberate aim. We stood the fire in that wood for 30 minutes, and had the order not been given to retire, not a man would have left his post.”
– Pvt Robert Grant July 21, 1861
11:00 AM 2nd Brigade (Bartow)
I am feeling a bit uprooted myself, as I pack up to head back to Orlando.
Old Stone House
Built in 1820 this stone house stood right in the middle of the Manassas battlefield at the intersection of 2 large supply roads. When the Union General McDowell swept his forces down Mathews Hill, he set up headquarters right behind this stone house which would be in the foreground of this sketch. The building was used as a field hospital and the floor boards became soaked with blood. It seems amazing that the building does not have a single bullet hole to scar its facade. The h0use on the hill, the Henry House, was riddled with bullet and artillery fire damage. That home saw the only civilian fatality of the battle. Judith Carter Henry, 85 years old and bedridden refused to leave her upstairs bedroom as the battle raged on in the fields around her home. Confederate snipers were using the house. Judith was killed by a Union bullet meant for one of those snipers. She is buried in the front yard and a headstone marks the spot.
Stonewall Jackson fighting at first Manassas
With the sun finally out, I decided to skip out on farm living and instead drove to the Manassas Battlefield, commonly known as the Battle of Bull Run. The battlefields were still muddy, but I walked for miles following the military drama that unfolded here on July 21, 1861.
The Federal General McDowell had the Confederate troops outnumbered, and falling back from Mathew’s Hill, at a fast retreat. Confederate units had fallen out of line and were milling about in confusion feeling they had lost the battle. Confederate Generals Johnston, Beauregard and Bee quickly reformed the troops to make a final stand. Just then Confederate re enforcements appeared from the woods behind them. It was Jackson’s infamous Virginia Infantry. Brig. Gen. Barnard E. Bee, exhorted his own troops to re-form by shouting, “There is Jackson standing like a stone wall. Let us determine to die here, and we will conquer. Follow me.” General Bee was then shot dead. This stand with the unexpected re enforcements turned the battle, and earned Jackson a lasting name in history.
Hooves
I will admit I was fascinated by the Farrier. He worked with amazing speed, I could tell I was watching a true craftsman. It also takes quite a bit of trust to grasp a horses hoof between your legs like that. This large white horse was the only one with attitude. He resisted every step of the way. Dick warned me to watch out cause this is the one horse that might kick. He had to lean into the horse forcing him up against the stall doors to keep the horse off balance and under control. Also watching was Caroline and her two grandchildren Caylee and Bailey. Apparently the kids take care of virtual horses online, but this was their first experience on a real horse farm. They got to shovel the real thing, and this was the first time either had ridden a horse. They did great, very serious and determined.
The Farrier
We woke up to cloudy, cold rain once again. Terry was exhausted and needed to sleep in. I knew the Farrier was coming to check the horses hooves, so I braved the cold and rain and made my way down to the barn. A truck backed up to the barn door and set up shop. Dick Bickel quickly got to work first trimming and filing the horses hooves then fixing any cracks or imperfections with acrylic resin. In all he worked on the hooves of five or six horses in quick succession. The last horse was the greatest challenge since he needed to rework the horse shoes. In the back of the truck was a furnace and an anvil to pound the shoes into shape. Once in a while he would hold up the red hot shoe to the horses hoof to check it for size. Sometimes he even pressed the shoe up against the hoof causing it to burst into flames in the cold morning air. I was amazed at how calm the horse remained through the whole process. Dick explained that he used to shape all his shoes from a straight bar, but with so many shoe manufacturers, that didn’t make sense anymore. I asked if his was a lost art and he said, “No there are many training opportunities for the next generation.” Debbie the owner of the bed and breakfast, also claims that Dick is something of a horse whisperer. He is able to train horses that are considered to dangerous to ride.
After the Ride
The day started cloudy, cold and rainy. Terry got up at day break so she could help out in the barn. After feeding the horses, we went inside for our own breakfast. The rain let up enough so the horses were prepared for a ride in the arena. Debbie, the owner of the bed and breakfast, actually lent us a couple of Australian slickers which really helped since it was so cold out. After the lesson, the horses had the saddles removed and they were then brushed down and put back in their stalls. I worked on small quick sketches in the barn to catch all the grooming action. I must do five or six of these a day. Virginia seems like an ideal place to live, if it wasn’t so rainy and cold. Tomorrows forecast calls for a 90% chance of more rain. I kind of miss the Florida sunshine.
Lantern Lane Farm
From Washington DC we rented a car and headed west to horse country. When we arrived at the Lantern Lane Farm we were warmly greeted at the door shown around the bed and breakfast and then immediately Terry signed a waver and went out to the barn for her first ride. I of course tagged along and kept sketching. Terry had to show off her skills in the arena so that Sheryl, her trainer, could judge her skill level. As I walked up on the arena, I was struck by these Icelandic Highlander Bulls munching grass in the foreground. That light brown fellow stared me down for a while, but he never did charge the fence. It was windy and cold. I think I might need gloves.
Mirian Anderson Tribute Concert
Mirian Anderson, a talented African American singer, was denied permission to sing at the Daughters of the American Revolution Constitution Hall in 1939. Instead she sang for 75,000 people at the Lincoln Memorial. This was a defining moment in the history of protest against inequality in America. To commemorate that historic event , Denyce Graves performed the same program at the Lincoln Memorial and even wore one of Anderson’s dresses. The defining moment in the concert for me was when the Chicago Children’s Choir and the entire audience sang “We who believe in freedom can not rest”. The whole audience was swaying and clapping its hands in unison. One feels that sense of unity and human potential so seldom. It was exhilarating. After the performance General Colin Powell helped several hundred people from 56 different countries gain their US Citizenship. The new citizens got a standing ovation from the audience. The heartwarming ceremony made me realize the civic responsibility we all have to give something back to the community . Colin’s voice broke as he read from Lincoln’s second inaugural speech: “With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in.”
Port City Java
I was supposed to meet a group of DC artists in the morning for the 21st World Wide Sketch Crawl. It was raining however and when I got to the meeting spot, a stone Japanese lantern, I found no artists, so I gave up on the crawl and spent the day visiting family. We met Terry’s niece, Allison, and stopped in this coffee shop to catch up. While we talked a group of Morris Dancers assembled outside and started jumping and spinning. The dancers were wearing lederhosen and other Tyrolean gear. A dancer would come in once in a while to use the bathroom. The bells on their legs would jangle loudly. Happy Easter.
Sleepless over Washington DC
Analog Artist Digital World is heading out to Washington DC and Virginia for a week long spring break. The flight to DC was a short hop of about two hours. Terry slept the whole time leaning on her snack tray. She woke up just in time to panic about the landing. “Why is he flying so low?” “Does he have to turn so sharply?” “Isn’t he to close to the buildings?” Though I rather enjoy flying, some of her panic manages to rub off.
I am entering type with handwriting on the tablet PC and it is slow going, so expect short captions.