"Americans used to say where there's a will, there's a way. Nowadays, it's where there's a pill, there's a way out." - - Burnt Toast
Showing posts with label vicksburg. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vicksburg. Show all posts

Bang Bang Yur Dead. . .

One hundred and forty-five years ago, artillery looked like these cannons located in Vicksburg National Military Park.



Here is this modern version.

 

I never realized how bloody big these artillery guns were until these two trundled past me on Interstate 20 today near Vicksburg.  My oh my we've come a long way.

Suck it Taliban!

Read more...

Ghosts Of Mississippi. . .

A glimpse of Vicksburg National Military Park, site of the last battle of the Civil War and the final resting place of some 17,000 soldiers, of which 13,000 are unknown.


"BIVOUAC OF THE DEAD"
by
Theodore O'Hara

The muffled drum's sad roll has beat
The soldier's last tattoo;
No more on life's parade shall meet
That brave and fallen few.
On Fame's eternal camping-ground
Their silent tents are spread,
And Glory guards, with solemn round,
The bivouac of the dead.

No rumor of the foe's advance
Now swells upon the wind;
Nor troubled thought at midnight haunts
Of loved ones left behind;
No vision of the morrow's strife
The warrior's dream alarms;
No braying horn nor screaming fife
At dawn shall call to arms.


Their shriveled swords are red with rust,
Their plumed heads are bowed,
Their haughty banner, trailed in dust,
Is now their martial shroud.
And plenteous funeral tears have washed
The red stains from each brow,
And the proud forms, by battle gashed
Are free from anguish now.


The neighing troop, the flashing blade,
The bugle's stirring blast,
The charge, the dreadful cannonade,
The din and shout, are past;
Nor war's wild note nor glory's peal
Shall thrill with fierce delight
Those breasts that nevermore may feel
The rapture of the fight.


Like the fierce northern hurricane
That sweeps the great plateau,
Flushed with the triumph yet to gain,
Came down the serried foe,
Who heard the thunder of the fray
Break o'er the field beneath,
Knew well the watchword of that day
Was "Victory or death!"


Long had the doubtful conflict raged
O'er all that stricken plain,
For never fiercer fight had waged
The vengeful blood of Spain;
And still the storm of battle blew,
Still swelled the gory tide;
Not long, our stout old chieftain knew,
Such odds his strength could bide.


Twas in that hour his stern command
Called to a martyr's grave
The flower of his beloved land,
The nation's flag to save.
By rivers of their father's gore
His first-born laurels grew,
And well he deemed the sons would pour
Their lives for glory too.


For many a mother's breath has swept
O'er Angostura's plain --
And long the pitying sky has wept
Above its moldered slain.
The raven's scream, or eagle's flight,
Or shepherd's pensive lay,
Alone awakes each sullen height
That frowned o'er that dread fray.


Sons of the Dark and Bloody Ground
Ye must not slumber there,
Where stranger steps and tongues resound
Along the heedless air.
Your own proud land's heroic soil
Shall be your fitter grave;
She claims from war his richest spoil --
The ashes of her brave.


Thus 'neath their parent turf they rest,
Far from the gory field,
Borne to a Spartan mother's breast
On many a bloody shield;
The sunshine of their native sky
Smiles sadly on them here,
And kindred eyes and hearts watch by
The heroes sepulcher.


Dear as the blood ye gave;
No impious footstep shall here tread
The herbage of your grave;
Nor shall your glory be forgot
While fame her records keeps,
Or Honor points the hallowed spot
Where Valor proudly sleeps.
Rest on embalmed and sainted dead!


Yon marble minstrel's voiceless stone
In deathless song shall tell,
When many a vanquished ago has flown,
The story how ye fell;
Nor wreck, nor change, nor winter's blight,
Nor Time's remorseless doom,
Shall dim one ray of glory's light
That gilds your deathless tomb.


Read more...

A View From Above. . .

I just returned from a nice weekend of cooking, eating, drinking and general laziness in Houston with Beatrice, The Scrabble Champion (damnit!), and I thought you guys would like to see Mississippi from a different perspective. From 10,000 feet above.

Here is the Mississippi River just above Vicksburg complete with barge traffic.

And the dual bridges that traverse the Mississippi at Vicksburg. The darker bridge is the "Old River Bridge" which is currently being rehabilitated. Sections of the concrete deck are being repoured for what reason I have no idea. It is my understanding that the bridge will never be reopened to vehicular traffic. I guess it'll become a giant foot bridge.

Attached to the south face of the bridge is a rail line, which back when you could still take the old bridge over to Delta, Louisiana made for an interesting, white-knuckled ride when the train passed.


And the Ross Barnett Reservoir and Pearl River just above Jackson. 33,000 acres of open water and another 17,000 acres of park and recreation area surrounding the reservoir.

My grandfather and my father completed the centerline profile of the dam back in the 50's when it was truly a deep and dense swamp. My father always remarks about how big and thirsty the mosquitoes were down in the river basin and all he could think about was getting back to school, flying right, making good grades, etc. Anything beat doing hand auger soil sampling during the heat of the summer.

Hell, he never straightened up. Slacker! And with that being said, it just occured to me that today is Dad's birthday. Happy Birthday Dad!!!!

Looks like I'm going shopping.

Read more...

Big Gun. . .

I'll be the first one to admit that I am not much of a Civil War historian and I'll leave the discussions of the reasoning why, results and aftermath to those who care to argue amongst themselves in futility.

Personally, I think it's a very dark and disturbing chapter of America's history and if we could only turn back the clock. . .

When I come to Vicksburg I am intrigued by the history and the relics of the era. Like the giant cannon below. This thing is gigantic, nearly five feet high at the "cascabel" or the little knob-like protrusion from the rear of the barrel. I cannot even imagine having to move this thing around either by horse or man. I've hiked the hills, hollows, valleys and gullies of the terrain that makes up the Loess bluffs from Vicksburg to Natchez. There are some serious grade differences and I simply cannot fathom how they moved this thing around.




And it must have been something to touch this mother off too. In this spirit of giving, I'm certain it was better to give than receive.

There is an antebellum home in Vicksburg named Cedar Grove which bears the scars of war to this day in the form of a cannonball still lodged in a wall of the home.

The poor fellows outlined in this historical marker did not fare well either, leaving me with the bitter truth that war is truly hell.

Read more...

Heavy Flow. . .

"Oh you Mississippi River, with waters so deep and wide
My thoughts of you keep risin', just like an evening tide
I'm just like a seagull that's left the sea
Oh your muddy waters keep on callin' me"

Mississippi River Blues
by Hank Snow

Here is the river at Vicksburg as it stood this afternoon. As I'm sure you know it's been flooding to the north and all that damn water has to go somewhere. The flood stage at Vicksburg is 43 feet and they expect the river to crest above that level. You never think about it much, but when the Mississippi gets to a certain level it can constrict the outflow of some of it's tributaries, such as the Yazoo River and the Big Black River. Some are predicting potentially large crop losses due to the rapid rise of the water.


Notice the wake at the base of the bridge columns. That water is really boogieing.

Obviously, this is all a result of Al Gore's Global Warmi, er uh, Climate Chan. . .uuhh, the "I don't know what to call it anymore because the Earth has actually cooled and it snowed in Iraq and the polar bears are doing ok and the ice is thicker than ever in Antarctica and it snowed in Mississippi twice this year and the only thing bigger than my carbon footprint is my ass and I look like a fool now."

Call it what is is Al: The Royal Scam.

Read more...

Picture

Picture
Herbs!

About This Blog

StatCounter

  © Blogger template Shush by Ourblogtemplates.com 2009

Back to TOP