<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" standalone="yes"?><oembed><version><![CDATA[1.0]]></version><provider_name><![CDATA[The Mitrailleuse]]></provider_name><provider_url><![CDATA[http://mitrailleuse.net]]></provider_url><author_name><![CDATA[J. Arthur Bloom]]></author_name><author_url><![CDATA[https://mitrailleuse.net/author/jarthurbloom/]]></author_url><title><![CDATA[&#8216;The fact is, General, I would like very well to bury the whole lot of&nbsp;you.&#8217;]]></title><type><![CDATA[link]]></type><html><![CDATA[<p>A friend and admirer of Father Abram J. Ryan pointed me to <a href="http://www.al.com/living/index.ssf/2013/03/father_abram_ryan_poet-priest.html">this</a> amusing anecdote:</p>
<blockquote><p>A wanderer, Ryan left his footprints in various places in the 1860s, including as a priest in Illinois and Tennessee, where he was also an unofficial chaplain to Confederate soldiers. It was in Knoxville that he penned his most famous poem “in a little over an hour” and “out of a broken heart,” he said later. A plaque commemorates the spot, and a Catholic school in Nashville bears his name.</p>
<p>Some tales have Ryan going missing at times, or at least spanning a wider geographical area, including New Orleans, where he was said to have smarted off to a general who had accused him of refusing to bury a Union soldier.</p>
<p>Ryan supposedly said: “Why, I was never asked to bury him, and never refused. The fact is, General, I would like very well to bury the whole lot of you.”</p></blockquote>
<p>Photo taken at the Confederate Memorial Hall in New Orleans, during my vacation there earlier this year.</p>
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