Two Bold Acts

King Richard II, giving those peasant rebels what for. Jolly good show, Richie! Cheeky blighters.

Nathan Bedford Forrest with the most awesome goatee in the Confederate Army

I ran across some articles this morning bashing the Confederacy, and I didn't like it, though I understand it. Occasionally there's something happening that drags forth articles of this sort, and I think today it was the fact that Governor McDonnell of Virginia is trying to proclaim (or has proclaimed? I don't know) April as "Confederate History Month." I think this is kinda stupid, myself, Confederate sympathizer though I am. It's amazing the sudden amount of ignorant vitriol that geysers up from who knows what depths of hidden malice--and this from Yanks and Rebs alike. Silly.

You might hate both of these men, particularly Forrest (if you're American). I understand. I myself have mixed feelings about both of them, as I do about almost every historical figure that isn't a saint. But they are children of their times and places, as are we all, and unless we are willing to learn much about both, I think it is best to remain silent.

Silent, that is, unless there're some killer stories available. And there are. I found myself thinking about both of these men this morning (I'm not sure why Richard II came to me), and I thought somebody might enjoy a thrilling tale or two, courtesy of Monica the Man. First, to Richard II.

Wat Tyler was a leader in what is called the Peasants' Revolt of 1381. It was a rebellion against the nobility in England, which had ridden the peasants hard with taxes and duties, citing the need for money and men in wars against France and Spain--what is more, the government had for some time failed to produce satisfactory results in these wars. The English peasants at this time loved their spoils, loved to see their leaders triumph and to benefit from these triumphs themselves, as they had under Richard's grandfather, Edward III. Another difficulty was that Richard was young, and many of the peasants believed that his reign was manipulated by his advisors. Many of those involved in the Revolt had been in military campaigns in France, and one of the remarkable features of this rebellion was its organization and relative discipline. Wat Tyler led a rebel army into London, and while many horrible deeds were committed there by the rebels--beheadings, burnings, lootings, drunkenness and so on--still the center held, and there was enough of an army to demand a meeting with and concessions from the king. So the king met with them. This was on a Friday, and concessions (soon after revoked of course) were granted the rebels. On Saturday, after having prayed in Westminster Abbey (from which earlier the rebels had a man dragged off and slaughtered), King Richard met again with Wat Tyler and his army. It is said that Tyler was exceedingly insolent and rude; the King's party, moreover, was understandably nervous, and it wasn't long before a fight broke out in the parlay. Tyler was slain by the governor of London and a squire, and the rebel army sent out a great shout of anger and threatened to rush on them all. But King Richard suddenly spurred his horse forward alone and cried out, "Sirs, will you shoot your king? I am your captain. Follow me." They did. He ordered them dispersed and forbade violence against them. Richard was fourteen years old.

Nathan Bedford Forrest was not a trained military man, but by the end of the War Between the States, he had established a reputation for practical ability and tactical genius. There was nothing complex or overly speculative in his theories of combat. He is famous for saying, "War means killing, and killing means getting there first with the most men." One of his most spectacular displays of bravery came after the Confederate loss and withdrawal from the field of combat at Shiloh, TN. He and about 350 cavalrymen were drawn up on a ridge to protect the retreating Confederate army, Union General Tecumseh Sherman in pursuit. Though the Union party of skirmishers outnumbered Forrest six-to-one, they could not see beyond the ridge upon which Forrest was perched. And he knew it. When the Federal skirmishers found themselves distracted in picking a path through a place called Fallen Timbers, Forrest sensed it was time to act and shouted, "Charge! Charge!" The Union party was completely broken up by the sudden severity of the attack, and even the cavalry supporting their flanks fled in a panic. Forrest kept on shouting "Charge!" but his men noticed that an entire brigade of Union troops was in front of them and withdrew. Forrest, however, kept charging. Alone. Before he knew it, he was completely and closely surrounded by Union Blue. That should have been it for him. They swarmed him about, trying to drag him from his horse or shoot him, all the while with him firing his pistol and slashing with his sword. One Union soldier even managed to press his gun against Forrest's hip and fire, and the blast lifted Forrest high in the saddle, the bullet lodging against his spine. Maybe Forrest took that as a cue for retreat, which he did, but not before yanking a Yankee up by the collar and using him as a shield as he rode back in the direction from which he came, clearing a path with his saber all the way. Once out of range of Union fire, he flung his man-shield to the ground and rode up to the ridge where the rest of his command was waiting in amazement. The Union pursuit ceased, for that time. From then on, General Sherman called him "that Devil Forrest."

Hate 'em if you want, but those are great stories. I hope you enjoyed them.