Lt. Gen. N.B. Forrest
Confederate Compatriot Bill Barr gave me permission to post the following in this forum. It is an excerpt from a speech he wrote concerning the exploits of N.B. Forrest which was presented at the recently held national SCV Convention:
Brethren,
My speech below was delivered last Friday at the Forrest Cavalry, one of many groups which meets annually in conjunction with the SCV National Reunion. Unable to attend at the last minute, it was read for me by my brother Jim, who is the Commander of the Illinois Division.
I thought that it might be of some interest. --Bill Barr (#109)
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Forrest: the Man, and the Myth of Fort Pillow
Throughout Henry V, Shakespeare explores the ethics of mercy to shed light upon the character of Henry, an English king at war with France.
In preparation to regain the Norman peninsula, Henry pardons a prisoner who has committed a minor offence. Immediately afterwards, he orders the summary execution at Southampton of three English nobles who are traitors to the Crown. By conspiring with the king of France against him, the condemned men must die for the "health of England." Once in France, Bardulf, a boyhood friend of Henry, is executed when the king discovers that the luckless man stole from a church. Henry shows no mercy to evil-doers. But by the end of the campaign, Henry has pardoned a man who had insulted him, demonstrating a sense of justice tempered by mercy.
Notably, Henry's mercy is shown to the inhabitants of the surrendered Harfleur, a Norman port which fell as a result of a costly siege over the course of three weeks.
Yet Shakespeare portrays Henry as bluffing the defenders of the fortified city into surrender. Expect the most dire consequences, Henry warns, unless the gates are immediately opened to him.
How yet resolves the governor of the town?
This is the latest parle we will admit;
Therefore to our best mercy give yourselves;
Or like to men proud of destruction
Defy us to our worst: for, as I am a soldier,
A name that in my thoughts becomes me best,
If I begin the battery once again,
I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur
Till in her ashes she lie buried....
Therefore, you men of Harfleur,
Take pity of your town and of your people,
Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command;
Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace
O'erblows the filthy and contagious clouds
Of heady murder, spoil and villany.
If not, why, in a moment look to see
The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand
Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters;
Your fathers taken by the silver beards,
And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls,
Your naked infants spitted upon pikes,
Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confused
Do break the clouds...
What say you? will you yield, and this avoid,
Or, guilty in defence, be thus destroy'd?
Shakespeare acknowledges that sometimes soldiers cut down the defenseless, when
The gates of mercy shall be all shut up, And the flesh'd soldier, rough and hard of heart,
In liberty of bloody hand shall range/With conscience wide as hell, mowing (down) like grass...