Sunday Musings on the War Between the States

It is really just a coincidence that in World War 1990, President Bush is exhausted and so was Lincoln at the end of his war.

['His war?' Ok, your flirtation with Southern Nationalism has gone too far-Ed]

Quite right. Honestly we had Grant and his pre-Appomattox migraine in mind when writing about Bush being given a handful of T-3 every night. 

This week we learned two things about Appomattox. First we had no idea Lincoln and Grant were absolutely terrified Lee would order the Army of Northern Virginia into the mountains. They were anxious, sick with worry. Lincoln seems to have felt only relief when news of the surrender reached the White House. Second, we knew the Army of Northern Virginia was in desperate straights, but we had no idea Lee was basically conducting his own version of the Bataan Death March on the road to Appomattox. We've enjoyed reading the back and forth correspondence between Lee and Grant. A poignant scene: Longstreet reading Grant's message offering surrender, handing it back to Lee and saying simply, 'Not yet.' We can add nothing to the actual meeting between the two men, the victor destined to become his nation's next president. Lee would have been called and served out of duty, right? Wow.

For European reader(s), a member of this blog's Confederate readership mentioned something about race relations, something we've always believed ourselves. Race relations are better in the south than in the north, because, frankly, the south had to confront it head on, while us Yankees could always claim we didn't have Slavery and Jim Crow. No Jim Crow maybe, but northern cities had de-facto segregation and to this day still have black neighborhoods. No amount of block breaking and directives from the DOJ will ever change that.  Back in the 80's, man, a Westchester County New York  judge ordered radical desegregation plans and locked up the mayor of Yonkers who refused to comply. In our own four town school district, African Americans knew there was one town they couldn't go into. We won't name it. Heck, just a few weeks ago an African American family moved into the neighborhood, and that still merits a 'huh'. Southern Black and Southern white understand one another, or used to, in a way a Yankee can see, but never quite grasp. We saw it with our own Louisiana born grandmother who preferred a 60ish black hospice nurse from Georgia. They just knew one another.