USA > Virginia > City of Lynchburg > City of Lynchburg > Historic and heroic Lynchburg > Part 6
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Upon his return to Virginia his first charge was in Winchester, subsequently in Orange, Virginia, and on January 1, 1870, he became rector of St. Paul's Church, Lynchburg, Virginia, where he remained in active work for upwards of thirty years, and until his death. At that time and for years prior thereto, Dr. Carson was chaplain of the Kirkwood Otey Chapter of the Daughters of the Confederacy, and also an active member and chaplain of the Garland-Rodes Camp, Confederate Veterans, of Lynchburg. He was the dean of the convocation, and was also president of the Standing Committee of the Diocese of the Southern Virginia, of which the late Rt. Rev. A. M. Randolph was then bishop.
Dr. Carson was a man of very distinguished presence, with a deep, well trained voice, and never have the services of the Episcopal Church been more impressively conducted than by him. His sermons were clothed in scholarly diction, and delivered with a dignity of bearing and a benignity of expression which will never be forgotten by those who heard him. His scholarship and intellectual gifts were of the highest order, and in a day when slang and politics and sensationalism and vulgarity were already begin- ning to besmirch the cloth and degrade the pulpit, he disdained these self-seeking methods of gaining a hearing, and true to his exalted conception of his "high calling of God in Christ Jesus"
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held up for dying men the Cross and its everlasting hope. In his intercourse with his fellow men Dr. Carson was genial, kindly, considerate and thoughtful, always well informed and entertaining in conversation, a charming companion and a loyal friend. His manner was always courtly and elegant, knightly and gentle, and of none may it more truly be said than of him that he ever, "bore with- out reproach the grand old name of gentleman."
As was said of Alfred Tennyson whom he much admired and often quoted, "In the great silent reaction of our age from the desperate solitude of a consistent skepticism, his voice was a clear toned bell, calling the unwilling exiles of belief to turn again."
And when, after a long life of consecrated toil and achievement, he laid his armor down and answered the call to "come up higher," this white souled soldier of the South and of the Cross passed from mortal view mourned for by his people as for a Prince in Israel, and yet rejoiced for by them as for one who had finished his course and kept the faith. Again let me say then, that I count it an honor and a privilege to present to this Battle Abbey of the South, this Valhalla of the Confederacy, this portrait of one who is worthy to be here in this company of immortals.
XI.
COLONEL RAWLEY W. MARTIN
ADDRESS PRESENTING THE PORTRAIT OF DR. R. W. MARTIN, ON BEHALF OF RAWLEY MARTIN CHAPTER U. D. C., TO PITTSYLVANIA COUNTY, CHATHAM, VA., OCTOBER 22, 1927
May It Please the Court, and You, Ladies and Gentlemen :
Excited by the excesses of the Parisian mob, at the time of the French Revolution, the great orator and political philosopher, Ed- mund Burke, exclaimed, "The age of chivalry is gone, and the glory of Europe extinguished forever!"
Less than half a century later, on September 30, 1835, there was born in Pittsylvania County, Virginia, a man whose life and character were such as to refute the pessimistic exclamation of Burke, and furnish ample proof that knighthood and chivalry, in the sense that they represent the higher virtues of manhood, such as truth and honor, and valor and courtesy, have survived the vain pomp and splendor of mediaeval romance, and in all their essential attributes shine forth with a brighter lustre and a higher glory than the ancient fields of tournament ever knew.
It was the first requisite of a true knight in the days "when knighthood was in flower," that he should be man of honor. With- out this basic quality, there could be no knighthood and no chivalry. When on the field of Pavia, France had suffered one of the great- est reversals in her annals, King Francis wrote home to his mother : "All is lost save honor." To the true knight in every age, such words come with the inspiration of an evangel, for with honor saved, all is never lost; but with honor gone, nothing remains worthy of knightly character. What the world most needs today is a revival of knightly honor, a return of that "sensibility of principle, that chastity of honor which felt a stain like a wound," and "en- nobled whatever it touched." In the long and noble career of him whose portrait we unveil today, the chivalric trait of stainless honor was ever foremost and uppermost, and of none whom it was ever my privilege to know, could it more fittingly be said that he
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could utter with truth and sincerity the words placed by Shakes- peare upon the lips of the noble Brutus:
"Set honor in one eye and death in the other: And I will look on both indifferently ; For let the gods so speed me as I love The name of honor more than I fear death."
Another of the foremost qualities of the old-time knighthood was that of personal courage. In the days of mediaeval chivalry, this was considered of greater consequence than any other requisite, and in our own day, as in all times past, the quality of physical bravery is considered essential to true manhood. If there be those inclined to agree with Burke that the age of chivalry is gone, they can certainly find no basis for that opinion in the history of America, so far as fearless and desperate valor is concerned. Think, for instance, of the Revolutionary hero, Sergeant Jasper, placing the fallen flag of his country firmly upon the bastion at Fort Moultrie, while shot and shell poured in deadly hail around him. Think of Paul Jones replying to the British demand that he surrender, with the intrepid boast that he was just beginning to fight. Think of the heroes who scaled the storm-crowned heights of Chapultepec, or of the ragged immortals in gray, who, for four long years on glory-flooded fields crowned with imperishable honor and fame the name of Confederate soldier. Think of Stonewall Jackson, the peerless leader of the "foot cavalry of the valley," or of Stuart, the "flower of cavaliers," the beau sabreur, who, with the fiery zeal of a Prince Rupert and the intrepidity of a Richard Coeur de Lion at the head of his crusaders, flashes across the pages of history with all the brilliance of
"That Arthur, who, with lance in rest, From spur to plume a star of tournament, Shot through the lists at Camelot, and charged Before the eyes of ladies and kings."
All these display the spirit of the old-time bravery and valor. All these exhibit as high and fine a type of military courage and devotion as that of any Paladin of old who ever "caracoled upon the Syrian sands and courted death with smiling lips and steady
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eyes." But there is one incident of heroic bravery which to my mind is equal to any of them, and surpasses any feat of arms or deed of valor ever performed upon the field of tournament, a triumph of desperate daring and faultless courage, over which the morning stars might have sung together, fitting to rank forever with the deed done by the little band led by Leonidas at Thermopylae, over whose grave is written the legend, "Go, stranger, tell the Lacedaemonians that we lie here in obedience to their laws." I speak of that glorious day at Gettysburg, when, on July 3, 1863, the cause of the Confederacy reached its highest point of achieve- ment, but only, alas, to be thrown back, and thenceforward to recede until it went down in blood and tears at Appomattox. On that fateful day, when Pickett's division made its immortal charge, the Fifty-third Regiment, of Armistead's Brigade, was under the command of its lieutenant-colonel, and as this regiment, under his gallant leadership, went forward at "double quick" and reached the stone fence at the top of Cemetery Hill, behind which the Federals were lying, the first man to reach and mount the fence, was he whom we are gathered to honor today. Calling aloud, "Forward with the colors!" he leaped down on the other side, only to fall desperately and well nigh fatally wounded, within the Federal lines. The charge had failed, but never till the last syllable of recorded time will be forgot the glory and the heroism of the men who made it, among whom, as the "bravest of the brave," was the knightly hero, Rawley W. Martin, lieutenant-colonel of the Fifty-third Regiment, Armistead's Brigade, Pickett's Division, Longstreet's Corps, Army of Northern Virginia.
It is not to the fighting man, however, that I would give the highest meed of praise. To serve others was ever the highest aim of chivalry, and there are other deeds than those of strife and conflict which make the time chivalric, and it is for these that I would claim precedence in contending that the chivalry of today is of nobler type than that of yore. The poets tell us that "Peace hath its victories no less renowned than war," and "Peace has higher tests of manhood than battles ever knew." In these days of large humanity, heroism has become common. Out of the commonplace drapery of this era in which business is apparently the first thought that engages men's thoughts and ambitions, out of the thick folds
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of our seemingly sordid materialism, there break, ever and anon, flashes of splendor and power, gleams of grand romantic fire, far brighter than the flickering flame which burned on the bloody fields of the olden time. To the savers of men's lives, rather than to their destroyers, belongs the truer bravery and the higher glory. Theirs is the spirit of true chivalry and valor, and they may justly lay claim to the highest order of chivalrous thought and action "though they make no proclamation of trumpet, nor charge in the clanging lists." This chivalry of peace can claim among its fore- most examples the man whose memory we exalt today. When the war drums of the Confederacy throbbed no longer, and its battle flags were forever furled; when heartbroken and foot-weary, its gallant veterans turned their faces towards the dismal looking future and prepared to take up the battle of life amid the ashes of their ruined homes, among the bravest and most hopeful was the maimed hero of Cemetery Ridge. His sword forever sheathed, he took up his books instead, and with battles forever a memory, he turned his energies toward the relief of sickness and suffering. In the simple, yet heroic, role of a country doctor, he dedicated his future years to going to and fro among his impoverished people, ministering to their needs as only a true family physician can, and here at Chatham and throughout the surrounding country, he became a comforter and a friend to all who required his services, and wove his life into those of his fellow citizens with a love that still survives in the hearts of all those whose homes he entered. Later on, in 1895, he moved to Lynchburg, where his memory is cherished in love, second only, if at all, to that which remembers him here, and advanced to the very leadership of his calling in the State. All the honors of the medical profession were showered upon him in profusion-president of the Lynchburg Medical Asso- ciation, president of the Board of Medical Examiners of Virginia, member of the Board of Visitors of the University of Virginia for twenty-one years, and also of the Board of Visitors of the V. M. I., president of the Board of Health of this county, presi- dent of the State Medical Society, member of various other boards and scientific societies, in all of these capacities serving with notable zeal and efficiency. He was at the time of his death, and had been for many years, president of the State Board of Health,
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during his incumbency of which office he was largely instrumental in the establishment of the State sanatarium at Catawba, and thereby in the prevention and cure of one of the greatest scourges of mankind, the great white plague of tuberculosis.
When, at last, on April 20, 1912, in the seventy-seventh year of his age, he passed to his reward, he was followed to his grave here at Chatham by hosts of loving friends, and left behind the memory of a life devoted to the service of humanity, and a name to be inscribed high upon the shining scroll of
"The knightliest of that knightly band Who, since the days of old, Have kept the lamp of chivalry Alight in hearts of gold."
Still another quality of knighthood and one of its finest and noblest, is courtesy, by which I mean not merely politeness, but that feeling of gentle, unselfish consideration for others, springing from kindliness of nature, such, for instance, as that evidenced by Sir Philip Sidney, who, when he lay mortally wounded, gave the cup of cold water he so sorely craved to the poor soldier who had fallen by his side, saying, "Take it, friend; thy need is greater than mine." To the true knight, his kindliness is as instinctive as his valor. "The bravest are the tenderest, the loving are the daring." The men who forget themselves for the sake of others, who move out of themselves radiant with moral beauty and manly worth, these are the belt of stars which form the brightest constella- tion in the firmament of our age, and among them none shines with a lovelier lustre than the glowing star which represents the name of Rawley Martin.
If I were an artist and could paint a picture of the ideal modern knight, I would scorn to deck him out in armor of steel and greaves of brass, with visor drawn and lance on rest for the shock of tourna- ment. Rather, I would dip my brush in the sunlight and paint him as one who in the simple glory of manhood evinces that true chivalry of which Browning speaks:
"That dares the right, and disregards alike
The yea and nay o' the world."
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I would picture him as one who goes forth to the battle of life with the cry of "Honor!" on his lips, and lets not even the sheen of Arthur's bright Excalibur outvie the brightness of his sword of truth. I would delineate upon the canvas of the times a man than whom not Sir Philip Sidney nor the Chevalier Bayard himself, could be more clearly "without fear and without reproach," a man who could say, with the great Sir Galahad, "My strength is as the strength of ten, because my heart is pure." He should wear no breastplate nor casque of metal to turn aside the "slings and arrows of outrageous fortune," but on his breast he should ever bear that purest and brightest star of knighthood, "reverence and decorous regard for her, however so humble, who appears in the sacred form of woman." All in all, I would depict him as the realization of the poet's dream of the ideal knight:
"Who reverenced his conscience as his king, Whose glory was redressing human wrong, Who spoke no slander, no, nor listened to it, Who loved one only, and who clave to her Wearing the white flower of a blameless life."
And when the picture was done, I would know that there stood revealed a nobler figure than Lancelot in the lists or the Black Prince in the field-such a man as he whose portrait we shall presently unveil, and from its frame would look forth the kindly, yet noble, features of one like the gallant soldier, the beloved physician, the loyal friend, the servant of mankind, Rawley W. Martin, a pearl of modern chivalry, who "ever bore without abuse the grand old name of gentleman."
May it please Your Honor, it is with a feeling of great pride in the honor that is mine in having been selected by Rawley Martin Chapter, United Daughters of the Confederacy, to be their mouth- piece, yet with great humility in the thought that the task they have assigned me might be far more fittingly performed, that I now present on their behalf to the County of Pittsylvania, to hang henceforward on the walls of its temple of justice, this portrait of their ideal hero in war and peace-Colonel and Doctor Rawley White Martin.
XII.
MRS. LUCY MINA OTEY
AT THE UNVEILING OF THE TABLET, CORNER MAIN AND SIXTH STREETS, LYNCHBURG, MAY 30, 1932
Sir Commander, Veterans, Daughters, and Sons of Veterans, Ladies and Gentlemen :
President Jefferson Davis, the revered chieftain of the South's "lost cause," in the dedication of his great work on "The Rise and Fall of the Southern Confederacy," inscribed it in words of unsurpassed dignity and beauty, "To the women of the Con- federacy, whose pious ministrations to our wounded soldiers smoothed the last hours of those who died far from the objects of their tenderest love; whose domestic labor contributed much to supply the wants of our defenders in the field; whose zealous faith in our cause showed a guiding star undimmed by the darkest clouds of war; whose fortitude sustained them under all the privations to which they were subjected; whose annual tribute expresses their enduring grief, love and reverence for our sacred dead, and whose patriotism will teach their children to emulate the deeds of our revolutionary sires." To none of those glorious women of whom these words were written could they be more exactly applicable than to her in whose memory we today unveil this tablet. Lucy Mina Otey was a representative woman of the Confederacy and it may well be that thoughts of her individually, as well as of the host of noble Southern women of which she was the type, were in the mind of Mr. Davis when he penned this tribute, for we know that he not only was acquainted with her personally, but that he also knew and appreciated the great work she had accomplished as the organizer and head of that Ladies Relief Hospital which stood on this spot, in recognition of which he had himself com- missioned her as a captain in the Army of the Confederate States.
As we gather year by year to bedeck with flowers the graves of our Confederate soldiers and to commemorate their heroic deeds, there can be no tribute of love more worthy to be paid than that
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which we owe to the noble women of the Confederacy, whose heroism deserves equal praise and equal honor with that displayed by the men who upheld its cause by the might of arms on the field of battle. And to the end that their supreme devotion and peerless example may be suitably handed down to the ages to come, the South should see to it that a monument to their memory, of sufficient dignity and beauty to fittingly symbolize their worth, shall be erected where all nations shall behold it and all time shall not destroy it. I have long believed, as suggested years ago by my own mother, that this monument should take the form of a great educational institution where the descendants of those peerless women might learn to emulate and perpetuate their virtues, but whatever and wherever it may be erected, it should bear where all may read it, the tribute written by President Davis, as the fittest expression of our reverence, devotion and abiding love. The inspir- ing and ennobling influences of their women have ever been the mainspring of the noblest endeavors of the men of the South. During those stormy times of civil strife, when your souls were tried as God grant men's souls may never be tried again, whose hands were they, soldiers of the South, which upheld yours, even as Aaron and Hur upheld the hands of Moses, not only while the tide of battle flowed victoriously, but all the time, in victory and in defeat? And in all the glorious achievements of the South in the years which have passed since then, what have been the chiefest sources of Southern inspiration and endeavor? I am actuated by no mere desire to flatter, but only to give honor where honor is due, when I say that the glories achieved by the men of the South in peace and war could not have been achieved by the men of the South alone, and had they not been supported and assisted by the dauntless women of the South the Bonnie Blue Flag of the Con- federacy would have gone down to defeat long before the surrender at Appomattox, and after the war the South would have remained prostrate beneath the feet of its victorious invaders.
The men of the South have conquered adversity because they have had ever before them the admirable example of the women of the South, whose fair representatives lend the charm of their presence to this scene today,-women of whom the ancient Alcestis and Cornelia were but imperfect types, Christian women of a
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higher civilization and nobler mould than pagan antiquity ever knew. In the darkest hours of war, in poverty, distress and tribu- lation, they refused to be discouraged, and in the piping times of peace, amid trials that might well dismay the stoutest hearts, they have quietly and resolutely gone about their chosen work of build- ing up and maintaining, not only the truth of history and the memory of the men who made history, but the material prosperity and well being of the land where history was made. By them have the graves of our patriot soldiers been kept green, and to their patient toil and sacrifice, their invincible perseverence and unremitting effort, more than to any other cause, is due the fact that Confederate soldiers are commemorated throughout the length and breadth of their beloved Southland by statues and monuments that tell in enduring bronze and marble the story of their bravery and devotion.
A number of years ago a gallant and beloved Confederate officer whom many of you will remember, Dr. Carter Berkeley, told me that when Hunter went up the Valley of Virginia and the old men and boys who constituted the "Home Guard" went out to meet him, there was one old fellow of seventy-five who had already lost three sons in the war and had his only remaining one at home recovering from a wound. When General Imboden issued his proclamation, calling upon everybody to come out, this gallant old man happening to be in Staunton, saw the proclamation, and when he went home that night he told his wife that the enemy was coming up the Valley and he was going out to meet him, and added, "I will leave our boy at home to take care of you." The next morning he found that she had prepared them both for the front and was told by her, "Our boy can go down with you and fight, I can take care of myself." Talk about your Spartan mothers telling their sons to come home "with their shields or on them," there was as fine an example of Spartan heroism as ever was sung by poet or illumined the page of historian. No wonder the soldiers of the South could bravely suffer and calmly die. The sympathy and example of such women were enough to inspire them in all the vicissitudes they underwent from the glories of Manassas and Chancellorsville to the gloom of Gettysburg and Appomattox.
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It is most appropriate, therefore, that this tablet should now be erected to one of the noblest and most typical of those heroic women. Of her family of seven sons and a daughter, all of the sons served faithfully and gallantly in the Confederate Army, only four of them being left alive at the close of the war; and the daughter married Captain John Stewart Walker, of Richmond, "as brave an officer who ever drew sword," who was killed at the battle of Malvern Hill.
Of her work as the head of the hospital which she conducted here in the "Old Union Hotel," it would take a volume to tell the story, but that story is recorded in the hearts of the Southern people whose heroes she ministered to and comforted, and this tablet is but a symbol of a memorial that shall last forever. I feel, therefore, that I cannot better conclude these remarks than by quoting the tribute written nearly forty years ago by my mother, herself a devoted woman of the Confederacy, though only a girl in years at the time of the war; a tribute published in The Southern Literary Messenger of July, 1895:
"Beacon lights, the lives of illustrious women are, and the reflection of them will tend to throw light into the dark corners of plodding hearts, who aiming for the right amid the perplexities of the present hours, ask to be shown the way. Surely beautiful lives prove to us that indeed we may make our own sublime.
"As a Christian she is first to be considered. 'Christ all in all' was the motto of her life, over which the signal star of duty ever shed its glow. Giving throughout her life the first fruits of her labors to benevolent work, she conspicuously emulated the example of the worthy Dorcas, the beautiful Margaret Daugherty, the patient, tender Florence Nightengale, and like the Roman matron of old she placed upon her country's altar her jewels-her all. When He Who gave them claimed them for His own, she submis- missively exclaimed, Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him.'
"It was said of her during the dark days of the Confederacy that had its matchless leader been removed by death she could have guided the ship of state to its haven of success as ably as did that Virgin Queen who said, 'I am a woman, but I have the heart of a King.'
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