Offsite Post: ‘Why Does the Elite Still Hate the South?’

 

It has been 157 years since the War between the States ended at Appomattox Courthouse and Southerners were brought back into the union on supposedly equal terms with their Northern cousins.  And yet, after three periods of Reconstruction (the first being especially long and brutal, and the current one – the destruction of statues, renaming of streets, buildings, etc., and suchlike – is still ongoing), the Elite (Yankee or otherwise) continue to view Southerners as ‘deplorables’.  Why is this?

It is a question worth exploring, as doing so will help us know who Dixie’s true friends and true enemies are, and what policies are fitting for us to pursue.  In order to find an answer, we will examine a poem of a great woman writer of the South, Mrs. Margaret Junkin Preston, entitled ‘Beechenbrook: A Rhyme of the War’¹, since the North’s War to Prevent Southern Independence brought into sharp relief what was best and most distinctive about the South. 

One of the first things we notice about Dixie is normal home life – mother, father, children (Alice and Douglass Dunbar, then Archie, Sophy, Beverly), their affection for one another, and their traditional roles within the hierarchy of the family structure.  In Chapter I, Alice is preparing Douglass’s gear as his departure to the Virginia army draws near:

Not a sob has escaped her all day,—not a moan;

But now the tide rushes,—for she is alone.

On the fresh, shining knapsack she pillows her head,

And weeps as a mourner might weep for the dead.

She heeds not the three-year old baby at play,

As donning the cap, on the carpet he lay;

Till she feels on her forehead, his fingers' soft tips,

And on her shut eyelids, the touch of his lips.

 

"Mamma is so sorry!—Mamma is so sad!

But Archie can make her look up and be glad:

I've been praying to God, as you told me to do,

That Papa may come back when the battle is thro':—

He says when we pray, that our prayers shall be heard;

And Mamma, don't you always know, God keeps his word?"

 

Around the young comforter stealthily press

The arms of his father with sudden caress;

Then fast to his heart,—love and duty at strife,—

He snatches with fondest emotion, his wife.

 

"My own love! my precious!—I feel I am strong;

I know I am brave in opposing the wrong;

I could stand where the battle was fiercest, nor feel

One quiver of nerve at the flash of the steel;

I could gaze on the enemy guiltless of fears,

But I quail at the sight of your passionate tears:

My calmness forsakes me,—my thoughts are a-whirl,

And the stout-hearted man is as weak as a girl.

The main supporting pillar of their family is their Christian faith.  As he readies to leave, Douglass offers a prayer to God for his dear ones:

"Father! fold thine arms of pity

Round us as we lowly bow;

Never have we kneeled before Thee

With such burden'd hearts as now!

 

Joy has been our constant portion,

And if ill must now befall,

With a filial acquiescence,

We would thank thee for it all.

 

In the path of present duty,

With Thy hand to lean upon,

Questioning not the hidden future,

May we walk serenely on.

 

For this holy, happy home-love,

Purest bliss that crowns my life,—

For these tender, trusting children,—

For this fondest, faithful wife,—

 

Here I pour my full thanksgiving;

And, when heart is torn from heart,

Be our sweetest tryst-word, 'Mizpah,'—

Watch betwixt us while we part!

 

And if never round this altar,

We should kneel as heretofore,—

If these arms in benediction

Fold my precious ones no more,—

 

Thou, who in her direst anguish,

Sooth'dst thy mother's lonely lot,

In thy still unchanged compassion,

Son of Man! forsake them not!"

This heartfelt faith becomes an important pillar of the Confederate Army as well.  The prayer of the Chaplain in Chapter VII is good expression of this:

Underneath thine open sky,

Father, as we bend the knee,

May we feel thy presence nigh, —

Nothing 'twixt our souls and thee!

 

We are weary,—cares and woes

Lay their weight on every breast,

And each heart before thee knows,

That it sighs for inward rest.

 

Thou canst lift this weight away,

Thou canst bid these sighings cease;

Thou canst walk these waves and say

To their restless tossings—"Peace!"

 

We are tempted;—snares abound,—

Sin its treacherous meshes weaves;

And temptations strew us round,

Thicker than the Autumn leaves.

 

Midst these perils, mark our path,

Thou who art 'the life, the way;'

Rend each fatal wile that hath

Power to lead our souls astray.

 

Prince of Peace! we follow Thee!

Plant thy banner in our sight;

Let thy shadowy legions be

Guards around our tents to-night."

The Christian family, and, by extension, Christianity in public life are indelible marks defining Southern life.  One often hears slavery mentioned in this context, but this is generally not an obsession with Southerners but rather with Northern apologists who need a way to justify Lincoln’s violent overthrowing of the old decentralized constitutional order and the erection of a new centralized, oligarchic superstate.  Gene Kizer, Jr., has in fact written a book with an abundance of footnotes explaining why the War was not mainly about slavery. 

If one reads what Southerners of the time actually wrote and said, he will find that their fight with the North was actually over other matters.  In all ten chapters of Mrs. Preston’s long poem, there is not one mention of the South fighting to defend slavery.  On the contrary, across the South there was an abundance of thoughts like the following, from Chapter I, with Alice speaking:

 . . .

The rest is at  https://thehayride.com/2022/05/garlington-why-does-the-elite-still-hate-the-south/.

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Holy Ælfred the Great, King of England, South Patron, pray for us sinners at the Souð, unworthy though we are!

Anathema to the Union!