Paintings Group • 6
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Title: Master Ellicombe • Was He or Wasn’t He?
Sub Text: The son of Union Army Captain Robert Ellicombe never existed, neither did the captain. Mr. Ripley concocted the bittersweet story of the birth of “Taps” in 1949 and America was left to ...”believe it or not”. Fact proves that it was adapted by General Daniel Butterfield and in truth first played to signal the end of day at Harrison’s Landing in 1862. The place and event were the same but the truths were not. Mr. Barnum and Mr. Ripley, separated at birth it would seem, both believed “one” was born every minute. We certainly have proof of that as well. But everybody loves a good story true or not. Category: Painting Date of Work: February 2011 - 2014 Size Framed: 18‘ x 18” Size Unframed: 13” x 13” Medium: Oil Substrate: Gessoed Panel Further Information: The House is Berkeley Plantation near Harrison’s Landing, Virginia The cake represents the sweetness of the Ripley story The floating coffin covered with a Union flag adds poignancy to the story The cemetery represents the terrible sadness of the war Available |
LEGEND - It all began in 1862 during the Civil War, when Union Army Captain Robert Ellicombe was with his men near Harrison's Landing in Virginia. The Confederate Army was on the other side of the narrow strip of land.
During the night, Captain Ellicombe heard the moan of a soldier who lay mortally wounded on the field. Not knowing if it was a Union or Confederate soldier, the captain decided to risk his life and bring the stricken man back for medical attention. Crawling on his stomach through the gunfire, the captain reached the stricken soldier and began pulling him toward his encampment. When the captain finally reached his own lines, he discovered it was actually a Confederate soldier, but the soldier was dead.
The captain lit a lantern. Suddenly, he caught his breath and went numb with shock. In the dim light, he saw the face of the soldier. It was his own son. The boy had been studying music in the South when the war broke out. Without telling his father, he had enlisted in the Confederate Army. The following morning, heartbroken, the father asked permission of his superiors to give his son a full military burial despite his enemy status. His request was partially granted. The captain had asked if he could have a group of Army band members play a funeral dirge for the son at the funeral. That request was turned down since the soldier was a Confederate. Out of respect for the father, they did say they could give him only one musician.
The captain chose a bugler. He asked the bugler to play a series of musical notes he had found on a piece of paper in the pocket of his dead son's uniform. This wish was granted. This music was the haunting melody we now know as "Taps" that is used at all military funerals.
REALITY - It's hard to feel surprised when a melody as hauntingly beautiful as 'Taps' picks up a legend about how it came to be written — it's too mournfully direct a piece for the mere truth to suffice.
Taps was composed in July 1862 at Harrison's Landing in Virginia, but aside from that basic fact the fanciful e-mail quoted above, which dates at least to the 1930s, in no way reflects the reality of its origins. There was no dead son, Confederate or otherwise; no lone bugler sounding out the dead boy's last composition. How the call came into being was never anything more than one influential soldier deciding his unit could use a bugle call for particular occasions and setting about to come up with one. If anyone can be said to have composed 'Taps,' it was Brig. Gen. Daniel Butterfield, Commander of the 3rd Brigade, 1st Division, V Army Corps, Army of the Potomac, during the American Civil War. Dissatisfied with the customary firing of three rifle volleys at the conclusion of burials during battle and also wanting a less harsh bugle call for ceremonially signaling the end of a soldier's day, he likely altered an older piece known as "Tattoo," a French bugle call used to signal "lights out," into the call we now know as 'Taps.'
Summoning his brigade's bugler, Private Oliver Willcox Norton, to his tent one evening in July 1862, Butterfield (whether he wrote 'Taps' straight from the cuff or improvised something new by rearranging an older work) worked with the bugler to transform the melody into its present form. As Private Norton later wrote of that occasion: General Daniel Butterfield ... showing me some notes on a staff written in pencil on the back of an envelope, asked me to sound them on my bugle. I did this several times, playing the music as written. He changed it somewhat, lengthening some notes and shortening others, but retaining the melody as he first gave it to me. After getting it to his satisfaction, he directed me to sound that call for 'Taps' thereafter in place of the regulation call. The music was beautiful on that still summer night, and was heard far beyond the limits of our brigade. The next day I was visited by several buglers from neighboring brigades, asking for copies of the music, which I gladly furnished. I think no general order was issued from army headquarters authorizing the substitution of this for the regulation call, but as each brigade commander exercised his own discretion in such minor matters, the call was gradually taken up through the Army of the Potomac.
'Taps' was quickly taken up by both sides of the conflict, and within months was being sounded by buglers in both Union and Confederate forces. Then as now, 'Taps' serves as a vital component in ceremonies honoring military dead. It is also understood by American servicemen as an end-of-day 'lights out' signal. When "Taps" is played at a military funeral, it is customary to salute if in uniform, or place your hand over your heart if not.
Read more at http://www.snopes.com/music/songs/taps.asp#QVP4ZdHpczMza6IY.99
During the night, Captain Ellicombe heard the moan of a soldier who lay mortally wounded on the field. Not knowing if it was a Union or Confederate soldier, the captain decided to risk his life and bring the stricken man back for medical attention. Crawling on his stomach through the gunfire, the captain reached the stricken soldier and began pulling him toward his encampment. When the captain finally reached his own lines, he discovered it was actually a Confederate soldier, but the soldier was dead.
The captain lit a lantern. Suddenly, he caught his breath and went numb with shock. In the dim light, he saw the face of the soldier. It was his own son. The boy had been studying music in the South when the war broke out. Without telling his father, he had enlisted in the Confederate Army. The following morning, heartbroken, the father asked permission of his superiors to give his son a full military burial despite his enemy status. His request was partially granted. The captain had asked if he could have a group of Army band members play a funeral dirge for the son at the funeral. That request was turned down since the soldier was a Confederate. Out of respect for the father, they did say they could give him only one musician.
The captain chose a bugler. He asked the bugler to play a series of musical notes he had found on a piece of paper in the pocket of his dead son's uniform. This wish was granted. This music was the haunting melody we now know as "Taps" that is used at all military funerals.
REALITY - It's hard to feel surprised when a melody as hauntingly beautiful as 'Taps' picks up a legend about how it came to be written — it's too mournfully direct a piece for the mere truth to suffice.
Taps was composed in July 1862 at Harrison's Landing in Virginia, but aside from that basic fact the fanciful e-mail quoted above, which dates at least to the 1930s, in no way reflects the reality of its origins. There was no dead son, Confederate or otherwise; no lone bugler sounding out the dead boy's last composition. How the call came into being was never anything more than one influential soldier deciding his unit could use a bugle call for particular occasions and setting about to come up with one. If anyone can be said to have composed 'Taps,' it was Brig. Gen. Daniel Butterfield, Commander of the 3rd Brigade, 1st Division, V Army Corps, Army of the Potomac, during the American Civil War. Dissatisfied with the customary firing of three rifle volleys at the conclusion of burials during battle and also wanting a less harsh bugle call for ceremonially signaling the end of a soldier's day, he likely altered an older piece known as "Tattoo," a French bugle call used to signal "lights out," into the call we now know as 'Taps.'
Summoning his brigade's bugler, Private Oliver Willcox Norton, to his tent one evening in July 1862, Butterfield (whether he wrote 'Taps' straight from the cuff or improvised something new by rearranging an older work) worked with the bugler to transform the melody into its present form. As Private Norton later wrote of that occasion: General Daniel Butterfield ... showing me some notes on a staff written in pencil on the back of an envelope, asked me to sound them on my bugle. I did this several times, playing the music as written. He changed it somewhat, lengthening some notes and shortening others, but retaining the melody as he first gave it to me. After getting it to his satisfaction, he directed me to sound that call for 'Taps' thereafter in place of the regulation call. The music was beautiful on that still summer night, and was heard far beyond the limits of our brigade. The next day I was visited by several buglers from neighboring brigades, asking for copies of the music, which I gladly furnished. I think no general order was issued from army headquarters authorizing the substitution of this for the regulation call, but as each brigade commander exercised his own discretion in such minor matters, the call was gradually taken up through the Army of the Potomac.
'Taps' was quickly taken up by both sides of the conflict, and within months was being sounded by buglers in both Union and Confederate forces. Then as now, 'Taps' serves as a vital component in ceremonies honoring military dead. It is also understood by American servicemen as an end-of-day 'lights out' signal. When "Taps" is played at a military funeral, it is customary to salute if in uniform, or place your hand over your heart if not.
Read more at http://www.snopes.com/music/songs/taps.asp#QVP4ZdHpczMza6IY.99
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Title: “Man Against Nature - September 1925”
Sub Text: George (Washington was his middle name), though a sensible farmer, fancied himself in a grander situation. In his mind his two story farmhouse resembled Mount Vernon and his 100 acre farm was every bit the estate that his name sake had lorded over. When George of the 20th century, envisioned his own portrait, even the 18th century drapery was there. His image, captured on a “battle day” was surrounded by implements of war and foes to be vanquished. Wild flowers, alfalfa caterpillars, birds, rabbits and deer, all were fair game. George was lord of his own manor and the architect of his own destiny. Creatures of the earth and air took notice and prepared to evacuate. The only soul undaunted was the Turkey Vulture. He sat patiently awaiting the outcome of the combat. Category: Painting Date of Work: February 2004 Size Framed: 43" x 37" Size Unframed: 36" x 30" Medium: Oil Substrate: Canvas Further Information: The Wildflowers are: Eupatorium coelestinum - Mistflower Rudbeckia laciniata - Wild Golden-glow Eupatorium maculatum - Joe-pye-weed Agalinis (Gerardia) purpurea - Purple Gerardia Ipomoea pandurata - Wild Potato Vine The Birds are: Cathartes aura - Turkey Vulture Coccyzus americanus - Yellow-Billed Cuckoo The photo of the unidentified subject was taken in Transylvania County, North Carolina in 1925. The photographer is also unidentified. Available |
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Title: “Edgar Mending Nicely”
Sub Text: A few weeks after the accident with the tractor and some surgery, Edgar was mending nicely. His uncle Alan in New York had sent him a set of Victor 78 recordings of Lucia Di Lammermoor with Lily Pons performing the role of Lucia, and he fell in love. Lily and Lucia were to him, one in the same. He ate lots of peanut butter and oatmeal because it was painful to chew but dreaming of Lily made both his soft diet and recuperation bearable. Lost in Indiana and longing for New York the fifteen year old Edgar could only make a pledge to his dream. A te vengo o bell’alma. Category: Mixed Media Date of Work: 2011 Size Framed: Size Unframed: Medium: Collage, Pencil, Gouache, and Watercolor Substrate: SOLD |
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Title: “Andre - a Swiss boy serious about sweets.”
Sub Text: Category: Andre was a Swiss boy serious about sweets. His career began in the family kitchen at Morges on the north shore of Lake Geneva. At 13 he was baking masterful apple tarts. Later he would become a pastry chef at a grand hotel on Lake Lucerne in the Alps. He was bounded on one side by simple apple tarts and on the other elegant petit fours. Throughout his transition he maintained a sense of humor. The boy who sat for a photo with a comb in his hair was still playing tricks and inducing laughter till the end of his days. Date of Work: January 21, 2011 Size Unframed: 11.75” x 11.75” Medium: Oil Substrate: Gessoed wood panel Further Information: From a photo by Armand Derail Sold - 2014 - SWAN HOUSE GALLERY |
