 |
| Thomas Smith Gilbert, Officer during the Civil War My great, great, great, great, great, great, super great Grandpa! I really don't know how many greats he is but he deserves them all, he is one of my heroes. |
I want you to look at this picture of Thomas Gilbert, really, look into his eyes. Those beautiful, piercing eyes. You do not have to be his grand-daughter to see what I see. He seems to be looking back at you from the ages, doesn't he? This picture is a treasure to me. This man's legacy is a treasure to me.
The second treasure of mine I want you to see, is the poem "Opportunity" written by Edward R. Sill. Sill was a graduate from Yale, and became a professor of English Literature. He also wrote another one of my favorite poems, The Fool's Prayer. After reading this poem, I will share with you, how this picture of Thomas Gilbert and the poem "Opportunity" are so intimately connected in my mind.
Opportunity
By Edward R. Sill
This I beheld, or dreamed it in a dream:
There spread a cloud of dust along a plain;
And underneath the cloud, or in it, raged
A furious battle, and men yelled, and swords
Shocked upon swords and shields. A prince's banner
Wavered, then staggered backward, hemmed by foes.
A craven hung along the battle's edge,
And thought, "Had I a sword of keener steel-
That blue blade that the king's son bears-but this
Blunt thing!"-he snapped and flung it from his hand.
And lowering crept away and left the field.
Then came the king's son, wounded, sore bestead,
And weaponless, and saw the broken sword,
Hilt-buried in the dry and trodden sand,
And ran and snatched it, and with battle-shout
Lifted afresh he hewed his enemy down,
And saved a great cause that heroic day.
This was my Grandpa Gilbert's sword. Magnificent isn't it? The sword has been lost over the ages, only these pictures remain, but I have often seen this sword in the hands of my grandpa as I read the poem "Opportunity", my grandpa the noble prince. How many times, have I complained about the struggles of military life. The burden of patrols, the inconvenience and frustration of over night duty. The nights my husband comes home after standing watch for two days and hasn't had more than three hours of sleep. I feel so angry at the Navy sometimes, when Josh comes home so drained from work it's all he can do to climb into bed and sleep only to wake early the next day and do it all again. I have thought many times about the wonderful life and marriage we will have once this is all behind us, I have thrown my sword into the sand and said "It's too hard, I could do and be so much more under different circumstances. I could be so much happier without all this stress."
And then, I think of my grandpa Gilbert. I pull out the pictures and stare fixated at the magnificent details of the sword he once carried onto the battlefield of the civil war. I once more gaze into those wise eyes captured by his portrait picture and think of his life, his courage, his passion, and his legacy. I read this letter, one among many cherished letters we have of his, that he wrote home to his beloved wife, Annie, during the war. I hope you will appreciate the beauty and wonder of this letter. I hope you will feel, as I do, the sacredness of it and the privilege it is to read it.
Letter Written From Camp Banks-Fredrick City Md. August 14, 1861
My Dear Annie,
I have not heard from you since we arrived here but expect to today. Lieut. Ager is due here this A.M. and then at last I shall hear from you. I suppose we are to remain here for some time to come, as government stores are being brought here from Hagerstown and Harpers Ferry; and as our long experience in guard duty eminently fits us for that service, I expect nothing else for this regiment at present.
This is a fine country in every respect, there are fine landscapes formed by the varied scenery of mountain, vale and woodland; I wish you could see it; nothing I ever saw equals it for quiet beauty. The city of Frederick is very old and historic, full of monuments of Revolutionary times in close proximity to Baltimore Washington. There are public buildings here built in 1696. The barracks where we are encamped were built by the British in 1775 and occupied by them until they were taken by the American forces under Washington. There are hundreds of muskets-canteens, cartridge boxes. etc. stored away here after the close of the war which have remained undisturbed here until now. I have secured a musket, canteen and cartridge box which some Revolutionary soldier carried in the early struggle for American Independence. I expect to send them home by express and wish them preserved to the latest generation of Gilberts to be handed down from sire to son as I am proud to think my ancestry were actors in all the wars which were honorable happening since they migrated to this continent. And now I have their ancient fame in keeping. God help me to never tarnish their glories. The time will surely come when to be known as one who fought or died to preserve the dear bought liberties of this land will ensure fame and honor.
Think of it, fighting to uphold and perpetuate the government which our Fathers fought to establish; the government founded by Washington, Adams, Monroe, Jefferson fighting against traitors, villains who would stab our liberties and blot out our history; who would reverse the decree which has made men famous for their wisdom, patriotism and virtue, and make successful villainy and infernal tyranny objects of ambition and forced respect. This cannot, ought not to be while one fine heart is left to bleed in the sacred cause of freedom, while one is left to stand in the broken wall of our union and fight for the future and the past. This is a bitter struggle but a struggle which must go right on until liberty and order triumph or be crushed out from the earth. I have no fear for the result. I hope for a complete redemption from the evils which afflict us and look for a new era of happiness and prosperity after this new and terrible ordeal shall have been gone through.
My health is good and the general health of the regiment is good. Night before last I was called upon for extra service in the way of picket duty which kept me on my feet for 30 hours in succession with a squad of men so this is a liberty day with me and I intend to enjoy it by sleeping and writing to you. Nothing would please me more than just to see you once more. I think of you all very often and feel proud of you, proud when I think how cheerfully you bear your part in the sacrifice we are called on to make for the public good. Give my love to all and believe me as ever your devoted husband.
T.S. Gilbert
"Then came the King's son, wounded, sore bestead,
And weaponless, and saw the broken sword,
Hilt-buried in the dry and trodden sand,
And he ran and snatched it, and with battle-shout
Lifted afresh he hewed his enemy down,
And saved a great cause that heroic day."
-Opportunity last stanza
My Grandpa Gilbert's sword has been lost to the generations, as have many earthly possessions he once hoped might be passed down from "sire to son" in honor of the legacy he hoped to continue. Even the Gilbert name has ended, as my great great grandmother was the last. But his battle cry to fight for that which is good and true rings on through the hearts of his descendants. His passion, his strength, his courage, his love for God and family and country are his greatest legacy. His strength reaches me, his kind words to his wife speak to my own heart, how proudly he acknowledges her cheerfulness in the face of sacrifices, so much greater than my own.
We all have battles to fight. We all have struggles to face, we all stand on the field of struggle with a sword in hand. And for each of us, there comes a moment when we must choose to save a great cause, or find the excuse which causes us to lower ourselves and creep away. To each of us is given this great and golden opportunity.
"I am proud to think my ancestry were actors in all the wars which were honorable happening since they migrated to this continent. And now I have their ancient fame in keeping. God help me to never tarnish their glories." T.S. Gilbert
No comments:
Post a Comment