Civil Warriors

Some photos from a rainy visit to Valmy last week with my wife and daughter. The photo below on the left is of me and Corinne at the Kellerman monument; the photo on the right is of the famous Moulin de Valmy, a major landmark on the 20 September 1792 battlefield that was reconstructed a few years ago. Further down is a photo of the rear of the Kellerman monument looking toward the windmill.

Perhaps the most notable participant in this battle, aside from General Francois Kellerman (later given the title the Duc de Valmy), who famously rallied the French army by shouting “Vive la Nation!”, was Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. Goethe later wrote of his experience:

I had now arrived quite in the region where the balls were playing across me: the sound of them is curious enough, as if it were composed of the humming of tops, the gurgling of water, and the whistling of birds. They were less dangerous by reason of the wetness of the ground; wherever one fell, it stuck fast. And thus my foolish experimental ride was secured against the danger at least of the balls rebounding.

In the midst of these circumstances, I was soon able to remark that something unusual was taking place within me. I paid close attention to it, and still the sensation can be described only by similitude. It appeared as if you were in some extremely hot place, and, at the same time, quite penetrated by the heat of it, so that you feel yourself, as it were, quite one with the element in which you are. The eyes lose nothing of their strength or clearness, but it is as if the world had a kind of brown-red tint, which makes the situation, as well as the surrounding objects, more impressive. I was unable to perceive any agitation of the blood; but every thing seemed rather to be swallowed up in the glow of which I speak. From this, then, it is clear in what sense this condition can be called a fever. It is remarkable, however, that the horrible uneasy feeling arising from it is produced in us solely through the ears. For the cannon thunder, the howling and crashing of the balls through the air, is the real cause of these sensations.

After I had ridden back and was in perfect security, I remarked, with surprise, that the glow was completely extinguished, and not the slightest feverish agitation was left behind. . . .

At last I was called upon to say what I thought of the engagement, for I had been in the habit of enlivening and amusing the troop with short sayings. This time I said, “From this place and from this day forth commences a new era in the world’s history, and you can all say that you were present at its birth.”

This passage was evidently on David L. Thompson’s mind when he recalled in an essay in Battles and Leaders that during the 9th New York’s attack at Antietam: “the air was full of the hiss of bullets and the hurtle of grape-shot. The usual strain was so great that I saw at that moment the singular effect mentioned, I think, in the life of Goethe on a similar occasion–the whole landscape for an instant turned slightly red.”