Christmas Day 1776

Today, most Americans under 40 know very little about George Washington’s crossing of the Delaware River on Christmas Day in 1776. They may have seen photos of Emanuel Leutze’s famous painting which managed to capture the American spirit but not accurate physical details of the crossing.

In 1988 Benjamin Hart published Faith and Freedom from which I’ve excerpted his account of Washington’s momentous crossing, which we would do well to remember and to teach our children and grandchildren.

From Faith and Freedom, by Benjamin Hart:

[George Washington had suffered a series of humiliating defeats in addition to backbiting among his men, including Charles Lee, who sought to run down his reputation whenever he had a chance to talk with members of Congress. British General William Howe had executed devastating attacks against the Americans and now had only to cross the Delaware River to capture Philadelphia. But Howe was foiled by Washington, who made his fabled crossing of the half frozen Delaware River that 1776 Christmas night — RMB]

“The Patriot forces had to endure a terrible storm. But … the operation would not have succeeded without help from the weather. The storm actually was a godsend. The British forces encamped in Trenton, mainly German mercenaries, did not believe any army could function under such conditions and so ignored reports that Washington was planning an attack. In sub-freezing and blizzard conditions Washington packed onto a fleet of 40-feet longboats 2,400 troops, in addition to horses, artillery, ammunition, and supplies. Soldiers who got wet found themselves encased in frozen clothing; floating ice chunks in the river threatened to smash the boats; and progress was slow. Washington hoped to attack at night. But it became clear that it would be broad daylight by the time they reached enemy encampments.”

“When the final march actually began, the storm was at its worst. Two Americans dropped and froze to death during the march. But the blizzard and howling winds also concealed American troop movements …. The German (Hessian) mercenary forces were surprised [they never expected the Americans to ‘keep their powder dry’ under such conditions; the battle was actually an anti-climax in comparison to the horrible deprivations of the journey].  Blinded by the snow and unable even to discern from which direction Patriot shots were being fired, 1,500 Hessians surrendered….”

“American casualties: two men had frozen to death on the march, and three more were wounded during the battle. This was a staggering victory for Washington, and greatly boosted American spirits.”

“A week later, Washington repeated the feat, this time in the Battle of Princeton. He crossed the Delaware again and was almost trapped by Lord Cornwallis’ forces. In well-ordered fashion, the British formed their customary battle lines and were about to slice the Patriots into ribbons. Washington, seeing confusion among his ranks, galloped to the front in an attempt to steady the nerves of his wavering recruits. On his huge white horse, with his 6-foot 3-inch frame, he was a conspicuous target. He stopped only 30 yards from the first British line, and directed his men to take aim. Miraculously, he survived the first volley. As historian J. T. Flexner recounts the episode: ‘When the two forces came in range, both fired; Washington was between them. An aide, Colonel Richard Fitzgerald, covered his face with his hat to keep from seeing the Commander in Chief killed. When Fitzgerald lowered the hat, he saw many men dead and dying, but the General was sitting untouched on his horse.”

George Washington has been the object of cowardly attack since the mid-20th century. As Alexander Solzhenitsyn wrote, “To destroy a country, you must first cut off the roots.” And George Washington is very much a part of our roots. So the usual suspects seek to destroy him.

However, the historical record is available for all who care to exert themselves just a bit and see for themselves.

He wrote about his admiration for his men, “Naked and starving as they are, we cannot enough admire the incomparable patience and fidelity of these soldiers.” His exhortations included, “To the distinguished character of a Patriot, it should be our highest glory to add the more distinguished character of Christian.” 

The Reverend Henry Muhlenberg had the opportunity to observe Washington’s conduct: “Washington rode around among his army yesterday and admonished each and every one to fear God. This gentleman … respects God’s word, believes in atonement through Christ, and bears himself in humility and gentleness.”

Regarding that Christmas night in 1776, after the ensuing battle the following day, Washington ordered his men to treat the Hessians “with humanity”. This was totally unexpected, for the Germans had behaved despicably toward American farmers and homes and had massacred prisoners just a few weeks prior. The German prisoners wrote letters home to Germany praising the Americans. Many Germans emigrated to America after the war.

In his farewell address, long ignored, but which used to be studied in high school and college, Washington stated what for long was assumed but is now mocked, “Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to political prosperity, Religion and Morality are indispensable supports.”

He also was quoted by Ashahel Green, “Religion and Morality are the essential pillars of civil society.”

Finally, in his speech to the Delaware Chiefs in 1779, he said, “You will do well to wish to learn our ways of life, and above all, the religion of Jesus Christ. These will make you a greater and a happier people than you are.”

This Christmas season, we are grateful for God Who sent forth His Son born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem us from our sins. And we are grateful for our history, in which George Washington played a large and indispensable role and who, as his friend, Henry Lee summarized, was “First in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen.”

His example and faith deserve to be rediscovered and the Christmas season is a good time to ponder thereon.

The American spirit is captured well in Emmanuel Leutze’s 19th Century painting of Washington’s crossing the Delaware on Christmas Day, 1776.

Papito

With deep sadness we saw the rapidly deteriorating physical condition of Cousin Louis (Papito) Max Rodriguez. He had been stricken with a type of bone cancer which was unforgiving, but which was also all in the the hand of our Sovereign Lord Who called Louis home early this morning, Tuesday, December 20, 2022, exactly 7 years to the day after the passing of his mother, Aunt Sarah, and one year plus one day after the passing of Cousin Max (Papaito). 

Louis, the eldest of the Barnes/Rodriguez cousins, was born in Miami, Florida, July 13, 1949.

His mother, Aunt Sarah, was and continues to be an ever-present influence on us all: dearly loved and honored. I’ve written about her before, such as her insistence on having us faithfully attend church, including Easter sunrise services, as well as participate in outings. These events had lasting emotional as well as educational — not to mention spiritual –impacts on me and I’ll be forever grateful.

Louis was her first child and she loved him as a devoted mother can love her firstborn. He would be the first to tell you he went through some rough patches in life; however, his mother never ceased to pray and to care for him and, over time, Louis remembered the old paths she had pointed to him in times past.

In times like these, memories flood the mind.

His visit with us in El Pao in the early 1960s. One evening, in the early 1970s, he talked garrulously about that visit and the friendships he made with Herman Gerbracht and John Thuoy, both of them among the “big boys” that I looked up to whenever they returned to the mining camp for summer or Christmas. 

He also got many years worth of mileage having seen me run to catch a fly ball, going over a steep incline at the end of the field, and promptly slapping a nest teeming with angry picaojos (“stingeyes”). In Louis’ version, I first disappeared over the edge, and then bounced right back and ran like the wind towards the house, slapping my face, yelling at full volume. I know he was concerned, like the rest, but after I went to the hospital and was put on some medication and therapy, knowing all would be well, he began his years’ long, hilarious narrative of the event.

His recollections helped me remember some incidents and relationships centered around El Pao — here again, that mining camp is present with us a lifetime later. I most certainly would have forgotten some of these forever had he not mentioned them on that early 70s evening.

His invitation to visit Fisher Island with him in the late 1980s. Having breakfast in the cafe, we ran into Bryant Gumbel, whom we only knew from sports news broadcasts, but who was right at home doing whatever he was doing on the island. Neither we nor Louis were anywhere near the per capita income levels of the inhabitants, yet Louis was right at home, unpretentious, loquacious, and helpful as always.

His invitation to go sailing with him when we had a one-day layover in Miami in 2001. There were 12 of us then plus a Great Pyrenees puppy. “Bring him on board! Plenty of room!” And so we did, along with Aunt Sarah who had prepared a paella that I can still taste, some 21 years later. We had a ball and the event was stamped on my children’s minds. And mine.

His telling us about Shake-A-Leg charity for children with disabilities, a work he thoroughly enjoyed and for which he was well suited as it combined sailing with working with children.

The last time we saw him was in late 2015, shortly before Aunt Sarah’s death. A small group of us had lunch together at a Cracker Barrel north of Miami. He had been as jovial as always but then suddenly turned to me, and to my astonishment, “Hey, Rick, I wasn’t too hard on you as we grew up, was I? I mean, do I owe you an apology?”

Stunned, I first looked at his face to see if this was a joke, but he was serious. Then I searched my mind and heart to try to remember if I had ever held anything against him. And nothing coming to mind I replied, “No, Louis. You’ve been a good friend and I am enjoying spending time with you today.”

He was content. And that incident said more to me about Cousin Louis than a well written and researched encomium could ever do, not least his childlike inquiry seeking to ensure all is well.

My second to last conversation with him took place about four weeks ago, shortly before Thanksgiving: “I look forward to coming to see you soon when I get out of here…how is Lillie? How are the children?” Over the phone, his voice was strong and energetic. But we both knew the condition was serious.

Then, about a week later, I called him to see if he was OK to have some of my children drop by to say hello as they were in the state. His voice was not as strong and he politely demurred, saying to visit in the clinic was a hassle and it was quite a bit out of their way. Of course, I fully understood and so did my sons and daughters. I wished him well and we agreed to speak again.

The last time I spoke with him, last night, he was unresponsive, but I agree with his sister, Cousin Vivian, who believes that one should assume a patient in such a condition can somehow hear. I spoke to him, assuring him of our prayers and love. And then I prayed with him. Later, Lillie and the children gathered around the phone to sing Silent Night as Vivian had the phone on speaker for him to listen.

My sadness cannot be compared with that of his surviving sisters, Janis and Vivian, and their husbands, Pete and Rick, and their children — Louis’ nieces and nephews — to all of whom I extend my deepest sympathies and love.

This is not an adiós but an hasta luego, for we sorrow not as others which have no hope (I Thess. 4:13).

All is well with you now, dear cousin. Rest in peace.

From left: Sarita Barnes, Janis Rodriguez, Eileen Barnes, Louis (Papito) Rodriguez, Max (Papaito) Barnes, Vivian Rodriguez

Louis (Papito) at left and Aunt Sarah, seated in front of him, along with Janis and Pete, Vivian and Rick and their children

Louis with Charles Barnes (2) and Lillian Barnes, Fisher Island, Florida, circa 1987

Cousin Louis (Papito): 1949 – 2022

Seeds Planted

(Note: This post largely extracts a letter I wrote 22 years ago, which is even more relevant today)

We’ve heard it said that seeds planted in a given century come to fruition in the next. If so, it may be helpful to look at 19th century seeds which gave the 20th and the 21st (so far) centuries a harvest of depravity unknown to the first 1,800 years of the Christian calendar.

We begin (without seeking to offend our neo-Darwinian friends) with Darwin’s (1809-1882) On the Origin of Species, which purported to explain why some “races” are superior to others (this purpose, actually in its original subtitle, is rarely mentioned today, and new editions omit it. The full title is: On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection, or the Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle For Life). 

The book was published in 1859; its first 1,250 copies sold out overnight. It was not the common folks, but rather the intellectual elite, which bought it out and began to apply it, for it gave a patina of scientific support (emphasis on patina) to the ancient desire to divorce oneself from the claims of a Creator. Claims seen in political documents until then, such as the Declaration of Independence, which presupposed that we are created men and women with God-given (inalienable) rights. (The authors of the declaration knew pagan history; they knew the pagan idea of the eternity of matter and ascending circles of existence. This preceded Darwin by millennia. Yet, though knowing this, the Founding Fathers rejected it. They knew that inalienable rights could not be grounded on a la-la theory.)

Another 19th century seed, Karl Marx (1818-1883), first dedicated Das Kapital to Charles Darwin, who, in a rare fit of prudence, declined the honor. Darwin could never fully shake off his Christian heritage. His doubts pursued him to the grave. That was not the case with Marx. For more on this monster, known for “howling gigantic curses”, we would recommend Paul Johnson’s Intellectuals. For our purposes, suffice it to say that this seed reaped a more overt harvest than Darwin and Nietzsche (see below). Darwin and Nietzsche’s harvests are obvious to anyone who pauses but a moment. But to see Marx’s harvest doesn’t require a pause; it merely requires that one be sentient. His assertion that man is a mere economic animal fits nicely, as intended, with Darwin’s theory. In both, man is declared to be an animal.

The third seed, Frederick Nietzsche (1844-1900), whose most famous work was Thus Spake Zarathustra, was grossly antichristian. His most salient ideas were a despising of the weak, the mediocre, and the altruistic. He exalted war and chaos as a stimulus for energy and the triumphant life. He was hostile to Christian morality. To him, each individual — not a transcendent Creator — defines his or her identity, not to mention morality. But he did preach a morality of the lords and a morality of the slaves. The former, a superior morality, is characterized by power and dominion; the latter, a weak morality, is characterized by compassion, humility, and patience. He died a madman.

We hardly need to comment on the 20th century harvest from these seeds. The thoughtful reader will recognize how the above philosophies prevail in today’s political and corporate life. As illustration, we will simply summarize that harvest in terms of a basic rule: the good tends to life; the evil tends to death. Clearly the harvest of the 20th century  has tended to death. And the progress so far of the 21st has not abated that tendency much. 

The following statistics are conservative estimates. More data continues to become available which reflects numbers far higher than these (for example, The Black Book of CommunismMao: The Unknown StoryHungry Ghosts, etc.). Nonetheless, the data below will suffice for our purposes. It declares the 20th century tale of deaths caused by deliberate state policy:

95.2 million deaths; 477 per 10,000 population — Communist states (international socialism)

20.3 million deaths; 495 per 10,000 population — Fascist states (national socialism)

3.1 million deaths; 48 per 10,000 population — Partially free

8 million deaths; 22 per 10,000 population — Free

The above figures exclude the 60 million estimated deaths caused by abortions since 1973 in the United States and their territories; the 35.7 million estimated deaths caused by 20th century wars; and the 15 million deaths caused by the state-sponsored Ukraine famine of the early 1930s. Be reminded: the first two state systems in the list above are/were atheistic, antichristian systems, whose first order of business was to suppress the Bible and the Christians. This is well documented and overt, but hardly ever stated in polite company. If the Spanish Inquisition of a few centuries back deserves censure, then surely the regimes alluded to above deserve opprobrium. But the public elite has never been known for consistency … or honesty.

The biggest characters (using that term deliberately) associated with the statistics above, were ALL disciples of the ideas of Darwin, Marx, and Nietzsche.

Is there cause for optimism in the 21st century? Well, if evil seeds can be expected to germinate in subsequent centuries, then surely good seeds will do the same. On that basis, we can be cautiously optimistic, although the harvest may be more fully enjoyed by our children and grandchildren. We’ll mention only one such seed, but a most critical one: the great shift in education from a state sponsored function back to a father and mother duty.

This tectonic redirection was clearly seen in the latter part of the 20th century but was accelerated after the draconian measures imposed by most — though thankfully not all — “First World” governments since early 2020. These mandates — very few were formally passed into law by legitimate legislatures — ironically exposed the philosophies pushed by state education systems to horrified parents who promptly removed their children from government schools and either began to educate them at home or, at great financial sacrifice, in private religious schools.

This is a consequential shift back to first principles. We are already seeing some impact in that major universities are actively seeking home-educated children or at least those whose education has been closely overseen by their parents. In sharp contrast to the Zeitgeist since the mid-19th century, the late 20th and early 21st centuries mindset of many is that the child is on loan to the father and mother by God. And it is the family’s duty, not the state’s, to educate him or her. We are convinced this shift tends to life and, therefore, will result in a more compassionate and a more life-supporting and life-affirming 21st and 22nd centuries. May our children and grandchildren see that day!

Declaration of Independence, original (“engrossed copy”) on display in the National Archives

Charles Darwin, 1809-1882

Karl Marx, 1818-1883

Frederick Nietzsche, 1844-1900