The Washington herald., 1912-07-28
THE HISTORICAL MYTH
OF BARBARA FREITCHIE
True Story of Stonewal Jackson, the Aged Loyalis1
of Frederick, Md, and the Flag Which Was
Distorted in Whittier's Famous Poem

The people of Frederick. Nd. gathered
one day recently to honor the memory OF
the towns most distinguished citizen,
Barbara Freitchie. memorial was un-
veiled In the town square where pos
terity may look upon it; succeeding gen.
erations viii stand before it. and the re-
cital of tales of Dame Barbara's loyalty
will impart the thrill that American
children have ever felt.
In short. II becomes one of America s
most historical shrines-this little spot in
old Frederick-just as the old home of
Barbara is the objective Of thousands of
tourists every year, just as Barbara s
grave in the Lutheran Cemetery near by
is covered with flowers from the hands
Of strangers, covered so lavishly that at
times the tributes Of blossoms run over
onto the grave of John Fritchie. glover,
whose fame rests on the fact that he was
the husband Of Barbara.
Nor 1t is not the purpose of this article
TO in any way detract from the glory of
Barbara Freitchie. Her loyalty. that she
kept amid the choking voices of sedi-
ton. was SUFFICIENT to earn her the hon.
age of posterity. More than that-she
impaired loyalty to the hearts of others,
and. doubtless the Unions cause was
stronger in Frederick because of the
Eray-haired old missionary, who dissent
mated her doctrine through the quaint
streets of the old border war town.
But. like many heroes of the past,
barbara Freitchie is more or less a figure
of idealization. She was more creation
of the poet than otherwise. 1t becomes
apparent beyond a doubt that Mr.. Whit
tier vested her with heroisms because
they rhymed' and without special regard
for historical accuracy. In justice to Mr..
Whittier, though, there Is some reason 10
believe that he was misled by an impul-
sive woman. whose recital of Dame Bar
bara's loyalty, a partial fabrication, In
spired his pen to write an impertshabie
poem on ths spur. of the moment. poem
he would have gladly recalled a week
later when he Investigated and found his
information erroneous. By that time,
however, its lyrical qualities had carried
IL far beyond Mr.. Whittier's jurisdiction;
1t could not then be recalled.
Accepted ms True.
Now, curiously enough, the story OF
Barbara by Whittier is accepted as
true by Americans. Even in Frederick
itself there are few who knew that the
poet, unintentionally or not, took mon
umental liberties in rhyming the hero
ism of the towns old Loyalist. In some
way. either by design or Inadvertently,
sat thing called poetic license" with
which poets salve their conscience, has
been used by Mr. Whittier to almost
ar unparalleled degree.
Perhaps the best way to visit Bar
bars old neighbors, who knew and
remembered Barbara precisely as she
was. is to come with the news repre-
sentative on a bright Maryland morn
ing and canter horseback over the
quaint cid town where Barbara lived.
Up from the meadows rich with
Clear n the cold September morn,
The clustered spires q Ftederiek stand
1t is not difficult when. scanning the
broad fields and the fruited orchards
to imagine that the prospect looked as
Fair as the gardens of the Lord
To the eyes Of the famishcd rebel horde.
Frederick still retains much OF its
wartime aspect-quaint old homes, wide
spreading shade. placid indiffer-
ence to the work and turmoil Of thai
world, generally. 1t somewhat exhiI-
arates one to imagine that he is riding
over the same turnpike as StonewalI
Jackson led his men on their famous
raids No more the bivouac Or the field |
rations as in Stonewalrs time. however. |
Now IL one may supersede the auto |
mobile pafties from Washington, he |
finds good accommodations for man !
and beast at the City Hotel where the |
sray-haired clerk takes a laudable in
study the towns historical aspects.
Dame Bnrbars's NeiGhbor.
rs it possible" ! asked. that there
is any one still alive who remembers
barbara Freitchie?''
I don't know how many times the clerk
has been asked that question. A SUM-
cient number of times. / dare say, to JUS
tify stereotyping an answer.
Yes: down the yOnder UhAre |
you will find Henry Nixdorf. and II he
amt asleep 1 reckon he can tell you-all |
about Barbara Freitchie.''
Ten to one you will find Uncle Henry
sound asleep in his splint-bottomed chair
in the rear OF his little notion store
years and a hot Maryland day
are sufficient to Justify sleep even at the
sacrifice Of business. II you do as did
snu will return IN an hour. and II you are
as fortunate as was, you will find Uncle
Henry awake with real Maryland well
come TO a stranger. and with a disposition
TO sit in his easy chair and talk Of the
lays long gone
When all day long through Frederick Street
Sounded the tread Of marching feet
Did you know Barbara Freitchier, I
asked; after explaining my mission to
Frederick.
Yes, sir I recollect Aunt Freitchie
light well. Her husband John was a
glover, and he had that store yonder.
light cross the street from me- He made
The best buckskin eallusses that any one
'ver made. and he was a good, honest
man,"
DO you know, Mr.. Ntxdorf, whether
hr. Whittier's poem about Barbara Freit-
,hie is true?'
Uncle Henry Nixdorf smiled a sort of a
Itereotyped smile, a smile that he has
doubtless smiled a thousand time in re-
ply to the same question, and he said
gently:
Well. no. sir. ] would not call il true:
'ut 1t is SO pretty that reckon no one
would have II unwritten. would they?"
Pressed for the circumstances that jus-
ifed Mr.. Whittier's poem, Mr.. Nixdorf
aid:
The day that StonewaiI Jackson ana 1
us troops came into Frederick, Gen. I
Jackson left his troops on the edge of q
he town and rode roundabout to visit .
ome friends Of his named Ross. who
ived on side street. Not finding them =.
p, ne left note under the door and =
oineo MS troops on this street Just be-
'ond my store. '
The Real Story. n
7 was standing here In the doorway '
nd witnessed the passing of the Stone =
1aH jackson brigade. After taking his Q
lace At the head OF the. column, Gen.
ackson looked up and saw the stars O
nd Stripes waving from Aunt Barbara.s =
Findov. Turning to one Of the mem !
ers OF his STAN whose home was in !.
'rederick, he asked who resided there
eA< <H NJ