Death of Britain’s Wartime Queen, Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon, March 30, 2002

2026-03-26T11:39:49-05:00March 26, 2026|HH 2026|

“Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: ‘Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all’.”—Proverbs 31:28-29

Death of Britain’s Wartime Queen, Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon, March 30, 2002

When young debutante Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon declined Prince Albert’s first proposal to her in 1921, it was not for lack of affection for him or any strong pull elsewhere. Instead, as evidenced by her many letters on the subject, Elizabeth deeply dreaded the prospect of marrying into the British Royal family. Even by marrying a secondary Prince, such as Albert, with no claim to the throne, she would be signing up for a life of scrutiny and endless societal rigor despite all its privileges. Having been raised by a prestigious but modest family of Scottish aristocrats, Elizabeth found these deterrences too strong to be overcome. It was the sensible thing to decline, and she was always sensible.


Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon (1900-2002) in 1915

How amusing it is that when humans dispose to keep away from the trouble and inconveniences of life, they often seem to find them again in twofold measure. Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon had misgivings about becoming a Duchess, high-ranking to be sure, but not essential. In the course of Providence, she would end up becoming Queen instead, one called upon to serve in full public view during the first war waged directly on English soil by a foreign enemy in centuries. Perhaps greater still, she would be called upon to mother and raise England’s next monarch, her own little Elizabeth, firstborn of two daughters and the late grand Queen Elizabeth II.

Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon first met her princely husband at a ball held in 1920, after which Prince Albert pursued her, was rejected, and then continued the pursuit until accepted. Prince Albert, second son of King George V and Mary of Teck, (and known to his friends as “Bertie”) suffered from many physical complaints: knocked knees, left handedness, stomach pains and a severe stuttering affliction that did not abate with age. However he was also manifestly courageous, courteous and charmingly unaffected. His incredible persistence in overcoming his disabilities has since been made famous by films such as The King’s Speech.


The royal wedding of Prince Albert and Lady Elizabeth, April 26, 1923

The Royal Wedding took place in Westminster Abbey on April 26, 1923, the first to be held there since 1382, and from then on the two were inseparable from each other and singularly faithful. For her part, Elizabeth would, for the rest of their lives, show her husband Bertie a devoted understanding he did not experience from his own family. She would be his champion, in health and public service, knowing him to be vastly capable and extraordinarily charming long before the rest of the world was forced by circumstance to pay him any mind. As was mentioned above, they would go on to have two daughters, Elizabeth and Margaret. When it was practical to escape their public duties, the happy little family was known to gladly hide out in their secluded country estates.

Prince Albert’s father, King George V, had, like Prince Albert himself, been born a second son and an unlikely heir to the throne. By his reprobate brother’s premature death, George V had ascended to the English throne right before the tragedy that became World War One, shouldering with grace responsibilities for which he had not been prepared. Ironically then, King George V himself produced an eldest son, Edward VIII, who would repeat this pattern and saddle his younger brother, Prince Albert, with the duties of King—although Edward ceded them through abdication and not through death, and he did so to marry a twice-divorced American, Wallis Simpson. This renouncement of his royal duties rocked the entire British Empire, but nowhere was the betrayal felt more strongly than at home. Prince Albert is said to have pleaded repeatedly with his older brother Edward to reconsider, if not for his own sake then for the sake of his daughter, the young Elizabeth, who by her uncle’s selfishness now had her entire future rerouted, from the pleasant prospect of being a private noblewoman to the rigors of being a future monarch.


Three generations and four kings: Edward VII (far right); his son George, Prince of Wales, later George V (far left); and grandsons Edward, later Edward VIII (rear); and Albert, later George VI (foreground), c. 1908

Edward VIII, however, would not be moved. The abdication proceeded in 1936 and Elizabeth’s husband Bertie became king, with his royal name being King George VI. The woman who dreaded being a Duchess was now a Queen. And more than that, she became queen in an era prolific with constant exposure to cameras, demanded radio appearances, rising calls for a great leveling of society, and the looming threat of another world war. If her kind-hearted Bertie found it in himself to easily forgive his brother, Elizabeth on the contrary held onto her animosity of him until the last. A strongly dutiful woman herself, Elizabeth had no sympathy for a privileged, capable and physically fit incumbent shirking his role at the expense of her husband. When World War II broke out and it was learned that Edward was allegedly feeding the Nazis confidential information about Buckingham palace and British defenses, Elizabeth was only solidified in her loathing of him. In fact, in a life marked by generosity of spirit and acceptance of the faults of human nature, her strong feelings towards her brother-in-law would be a marked exception to the rule. She would later say that being made king had effectively killed her husband, and laid the blame for that solely on Edward.


Edward VIII and Wallis Simpson, 1936

All throughout the war years, Elizabeth and her once private little family became almost as iconic as Prime Minister Churchill in the eyes of their British subjects. During the terrifying months of the Blitz, Elizabeth refused to leave London. “The children could not go without me, I could not possibly leave the King, and the King would never go“ she once famously told those advisors who begged the royals to evacuate under threats of invasion. Instead, they remained throughout the heavy bombing of London, where Queen Elizabeth aided her husband in his wartime broadcasts, showed herself frequently at the sites of destruction, and worked tirelessly to help alleviate the suffering of the civilian population most affected. The concept of losing the war was something she refused to entertain, and her very presence seemed to radiate that determination wherever she appeared. Her actions during this time earned her widespread admiration and caused Adolf Hitler to refer to her as “the most dangerous woman in Europe” for her success in rallying public spirit. Prime Minister Churchill, who had initially been wary of the couple’s untried spirit, declared after the war that “we could not have had a better King and Queen in Britain’s most perilous hour.”


Queen Elizabeth and her daughter Princess Elizabeth (the future Queen Elizabeth II) talk with paratroopers preparing for D-Day, May 19, 1944

In sad fulfillment of her constant worry for her husband’s health, Bertie succumbed to lung cancer in 1952, widowing Elizabeth at age 51. Their daughter—the late long-reigning Queen Elizabeth II—was crowned, and Elizabeth became known as the Queen Mother. Grief did not drown her; instead she carried always “a great zest for life” and continued to perform in her new role many public duties, remaining indispensable to royal life until her passing at 101 years of age. To put her extraordinary length of influence into perspective, she was a support act and constant advisor to her daughter for 50 years of her 70-year reign. Her funeral in 2002 drew over a million people onto the streets of London.


Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother, 1986

Beloved but stringent, the devout Queen Mother was credited not only in raising her queenly daughter to be a paragon of duty in the ever-devolving 20th century, but was herself responsible for many moral standards of behavior that the Royal Family continued to espouse, publicly at least. For instance, after Princess Diana’s death in 1997, the issue of Prince Charles and his longtime mistress, Camilla Parker Bowles, acquired great emotional and symbolic relevance. By the Queen Mother’s influence, any formal support of the relationship continued to be denied and its potential union considered impossible. She viewed it as destabilizing of the monarchy and antithetical to the moral standards she believed the institution should project, a beloved grandson’s wish aside. It was considered by the public to be no mere happenstance that only after her death in 2002 were Prince Charles and Camilla Parker Bowles married, despite the church and family’s stance against it.

Lives such as that of Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon are the kind that shape a generation—something she herself might have laughed at or shrank from, had she been told at the beginning what lay in store for her. But quietly faithful and placidly trusting, she resigned herself to be used by God in many an extraordinary era. “Work is the rent you pay in life” her mother, Lady Strathmore, had impressed upon Elizabeth and her nine siblings growing up. She abided by this until the end, informed by a conviction that individuals were more important than the state and that the extension of the government’s reach into every area of life did “not absolve us from the practice of charity or from the exercise of vigilance. The English way of progress has always been to preserve good qualities and apply them to new systems.”


King George VI and Queen Elizabeth, 1939

The Continental Congress Resolves Upon a National Day of Prayer, March 16, 1776

2026-03-26T11:47:00-05:00March 26, 2026|HH 2026|

The Continental Congress Resolves Upon a National Day of Prayer, March 16, 1776

Amidst grave alarm over the protracted siege of Boston, threats to the safety of New York, and the crushing response from King George in refusing all peace negotiations, patriot William Livingston rose before the Second Continental Congress and read out a proposal. Drafted by his own eloquent pen, it read as “an Order for a General Fast” that would have the Congress designate a day for the colonies to publicly acknowledge God’s providence, confess their sins, and pray for protection of American lives and liberties amid the conflict with Britain.


The meeting room inside Independence Hall, Philadelphia, PA, where the Second Continental Congress convened

It was adopted unanimously on this day, and signed into being by President John Hancock—himself the son of Reverend John Hancock, Sr. This motion for a national day of spiritual solemnity and diligence would become the second such to be issued by Congress during the Revolutionary period. Fourteen more would follow in the years to come. With the thirteen colonies at that time operating under the Articles of Association, such motions were called resolves, as they carried no legal compulsion but instead were the “earnest recommendation” of the representative body.


John Hancock (1737-1793)

But here is a beautiful lesson to us all—these great men, harried by all manner of tasks and running out of time to defend their very lives and country from the ravages of an invading enemy, took time and pains to honor and center Almighty God in this great endeavor. And not only in their private devotions, but in the national consciousness.

Indeed, William Livingston himself, the man who drafted this resolve, was considered an exceptional statesman and administrator. Mired in the work of countless councils and committees, and accomplishing the work of a dozen men alone, he did not forget who strengthens the arm for battle or sharpens the mind for defense. Instead he called upon all around him to repent and to rely upon God’s “superintending Providence” in the momentous affairs occurring at home and abroad.


William Livingston (1723-1790)

A devout Christian of the Dutch Calvinist persuasion, a missionary to the Iroquois Tribe, a prominent lawyer, and New Jersey’s foremost representative to the congress, William Livingston would go on to become a brigadier general, the first governor of New Jersey, and a signatory of the Constitution. In a time when men were encouraged to broaden their fields of study and exert all their capabilities in the public interest, Livingston strove foremost among them, yet remained until his last days a reliant sinner, clinging to Divine Grace.


The handwriting of William Livingston in a letter dated March 23, 1778

As we find ourselves again in such dire circumstances, let us come together in repentance and humility that we might find favor with Almighty God Who judges nations and alone has power to restore them. Livingston’s call to prayer is a beautifully crafted appeal for unity in Christ, and remains as pertinent now as it was 250 years ago.


In times of impending calamity and distress; when the liberties of America are imminently endangered by the secret machinations and open assaults of an insidious and vindictive administration, it becomes the indispensable duty of these hitherto free and happy colonies, with true penitence of heart, and the most reverent devotion, publicly to acknowledge the over ruling providence of God; to confess and deplore our offenses against Him; and to supplicate His interposition for averting the threatened danger, and prospering our strenuous efforts in the cause of freedom, virtue, and posterity…

[We desire] to have people of all ranks and degrees duly impressed with a solemn sense of God’s superintending Providence, and of their duty, devoutly to rely, in all their lawful enterprises, on His aid and direction….we may, with united hearts, confess and bewail our manifold sins and transgressions, and, by a sincere repentance and amendment of life, appease His righteous displeasure, and, through the merits and mediation of Jesus Christ, obtain His pardon and forgiveness; humbly imploring His assistance to frustrate the cruel purposes of our unnatural enemies; and by inclining their hearts to justice and benevolence, prevent the further effusion of kindred blood…

But if, continuing deaf to the voice of reason and humanity, and inflexibly bent, on desolation and war, they constrain us to repel their hostile invasions by open resistance, that it may please the Lord of Hosts, the God of Armies, to animate our officers and soldiers with invincible fortitude, to guard and protect them in the day of battle, and to crown the continental arms, by sea and land, with victory and success: Earnestly beseeching Him to bless our civil rulers, and the representatives of the people, in their several assemblies and conventions; to preserve and strengthen their union, to inspire them with an ardent, disinterested love of their country; to give wisdom and stability to their counsels; and direct them to the most efficacious measures for establishing the rights of America on the most honorable and permanent basis…

That He would be graciously pleased to bless all His people in these colonies with health and plenty, and grant that a spirit of incorruptible patriotism, and of pure undefiled religion, may universally prevail; and this continent be speedily restored to the blessings of peace and liberty, and enabled to transmit them inviolate to the latest posterity.

Letters of ’76: Mercy Otis Warren to John Adams, March 10, 1776

2026-03-26T11:42:55-05:00March 26, 2026|HH 2026|

Letters of ’76: Mercy Otis Warren to John Adams, March 10, 1776

Mercy Otis Warren came from distinguished Massachusetts stock that could trace their lineage as far back as the Mayflower. While not “formally” educated, Warren’s father ensured she received the same quality tutelage as her brothers, under the guidance of an uncle, the Rev. Jonathan Russel.


Mercy Otis Warren (1728-1814)

She married her second cousin, James Warren, a merchant farmer, who would eventually replace the martyr of Bunker Hill, Dr. Joseph Warren (no relation), as Speaker of the Provisional Congress. By the year 1776, Mercy Warren had capitalized on this new position—and the public influence she had gained as a playwright in years prior—to devote her public platform fully to the work of steering her colony towards independence.


James Warren (1726-1808)

Driven by unshakable faith in the Supreme Governor of the Universe and the doctrine of her forefathers, she considered the American experiment to be a direct outworking of Providence, and considered herself “awed” and “fortunate” to stand witness to its unfolding. Much of her writings stress to a bewildered populace the magnitude of the events engulfing them, and pondered if her generation was strong and virtuous enough for the task at hand. Considered by her contemporaries to be an astoundingly astute woman, she was a most capable wife and irrepressible mother of five boys! A leading female intellectual, Mercy Warren is still revered as a prolific commentator, poet and correspondent. After the war she would turn her pen toward preservation, becoming one of the first to write a history of the United States and its founding. In a show of commendation for her scholarship, President Jefferson purchased all three volumes for himself and each member of his cabinet.


History of the Rise, Progress and Termination of the American Revolution
by Mercy Otis Warren, published in 1805—An 1851 Christmas Eve fire destroyed almost two thirds of the books that Jefferson had sold to the Library of Congress in 1815; the flames almost claimed this book as well, as noted by the singeing of the title page (top right corner).


Dear sir,
As your time is so much devoted to the service of the public that you have little leisure for letters of friendship or amusement, and conscious of incapacity to write anything that would be of the smallest utility to the common weal, I have been for sometime balancing in my mind whether I should again interrupt your important moments, but on re-perusing yours of January 8th, I find a query unanswered. And though the asking my opinion in so momentous a question as the form of government to be preferred by a people who have an opportunity to shake off the fetters both of monarchy and aristocratic tyranny, might be designed to ridicule the sex for paying any attention to political matters, yet I shall venture to give you a serious reply.

And notwithstanding the love of dress, dancing, equipage, finery and folly, notwithstanding the fondness for fashion, predominates so strongly in the female mind, I hope never to see an American Monarchy, however fashionable in Europe, or however it might coincide with the taste for elegance and pleasure in the one sex, or cooperate with the interest, or passions of the other.

I have long been an admirer of a Republican form of government, and was convinced even before I saw the advantages delineated in so clear and concise a manner by your masterly pen, that if established upon the genuine principles of equal liberty, it was a form productive of many excellent qualities, and heroic virtues in human nature, which often lie dormant for want of opportunity for exertions, and the Heavenly Spark is smothered in the Corruption of Courts, or its luster obscured in the pompous glare of regal pageantry.

It is an observation of the celebrated bourge*, “that almost all political establishments are the creatures of chance rather than of wisdom, and that there are few instances of a people forming for themselves a constitution from the foundation, that the common course has been to blend with the new system of politics the errors and deficiencies that had crept into the old.”

Therefore there is scarcely any example of such a phenomenon as a perfect Commonwealth. But we will hope the present period will leave one to posterity, and that the American Republic will come as near the standard of perfection as the state of humanity will admit, and that listening to the dictates of common sense the Amphyctionic Body** will not be obliged to yield to the violence of party or to the blindness of private, or provincial prejudices, and leave the work half finished.

Shall the fabric which they now have the power of completing with facility which may never again take place, be left tottering under its own weight, to be showered up and cemented with the blood of succeeding generations? But however we may indulge the pleasing reverie and look forward with delight, on the well compacted government, and happy establishment of the civil police of the united colonies, yet with you sir I have my fears, that American Virtue has not yet reached that sublime pitch which is necessary to baffle the arts of the designing, and to counteract the weakness of the timid, as well as to resist the pecuniary temptations and ambitious wishes which will arise in the breasts of more noble minded and exalted individuals, if not carefully guarded. But we shall soon have a test. And if the union of the colonies, and a steady opposition to the disgraceful idea of foreign shackles still subsists, after negotiating with men picked for the purpose of flattering, terrifying and cajoling the colonists into compliances which their principles, their interest, their honor, and even their strength forbids, I shall have hopes that America has more than one politician who has abilities to make the characters of his people, to extinguish the vices and follies he finds, and to create the virtues he sees wanting.

Many among us are ready to flatter themselves that an accommodation with Britain is easy, and that we shall soon see the return of Halcyon days.

But I believe sir, you have little expectation that the Commissioners from a haughty, venal and luxurious court, acting in the name of a despotic prince, will submit to such humiliating terms as the safety, the happiness, and the justice of American demands.

I agree to the bargain you propose and I think, sir, you cannot retract, when a Lady has accepted your conditions. But I must ingeniously tell you, the pleasure you may expect to reap, will be very inadequate, to the advantage I promise myself by the compliance.***

I expect to be made acquainted with the genius, the taste, and manners, not only of the most distinguished characters in America, but of the Nobility of Britain. And perhaps before the conflict is ended, with some of those dignified personages who have held the regalia of crowns and scepters, and in the zenith of power are the dancing puppets of other European Courts. While the sphere of female life is too narrow to afford any entertainment to the wise and learned, who are called to exhibit some of the most capital scenes in the drama. And who dare to tread the Theatre, when not only [the] World are Spectators, but the Stage is so Conspicuous, and the part so interesting that all posterity will scrutinize their steps, and future ages censure or applaud according to the imbecility, the vigor, or magnanimity that marks the conduct of the Philadelphian actors.

The subject I have touched is so diffusive that I have been im­perceptibly lead to detain you longer than I designed, and after uttering every wish for the happiness of you and yours, that friendship can dictate, I will only add I should be gratified with a line if it was only an assurance of pardon for the freedom and length of this.

* bourgeois class
** Ancient Greek reference for a confederation
*** Adams had suggested she become an ambassador

Note: spelling has been corrected or modernized, no other changes have been made to the original text.

Tragedy Aboard the USS Princeton: President Tyler’s Cabinet Decimated, 1844

2026-02-24T16:40:40-06:00February 24, 2026|HH 2026|

“Seeing his days are determined, the number of his months are with thee, Thou hast appointed his bounds that he cannot pass.” —Job 14:5

Tragedy Aboard the USS Princeton: President Tyler’s Cabinet Decimated, February 28, 1844

The single deadliest tragedy to claim multiple top government officials happened on February 28, 1844, during a Potomac River pleasure cruise. The U.S. was in a peacetime lull, with no major conflicts since the War of 1812 and the Mexican-American War still two years in the future. The “fabulous forties”, as the decade would later be known, was well under way. President Tyler was enjoying a successful—if rather turbulent—administration, having become the first Vice President to succeed to the office after the death of the incumbent, that being the short-serving William Henry Harrison.


John Tyler (1790-1862), circa 1842

Roughly three years into his term, President Tyler agreed to a diplomatic cruise on the new, state-of-the-art warship, the USS Princeton. She was the first of her kind with screw propellers enabling her to break through ice, and an engine mounted below the waterline to protect from gunfire. An innovative wonder and pride of the United States Navy, the ship also boasted an impressive 12 inch muzzleloader, named Peacemaker. The Princeton’s Captain, Robert F. Stockton, had designed the gun himself and had mounted it with only a limited amount of testing for its efficacy.

On February 28, USS Princeton departed Alexandria, Virginia with Tyler, members of his cabinet, former First Lady Dolley Madison, over half a dozen Senators and about 400 other prestigious guests. Crowds thronged the shoreline to watch her progress, and her guns were shot off in salute, repeatedly. Along the way Captain Stockton decided to fire his own invention, Peacemaker, at the behest of his impressed guests.


The USS Princeton

Peacemaker was fired successfully three times in total on the trip downriver. The many guests then retired below deck for lunch and refreshments. Toasts were raised to the Navy. Stories were swapped by the many distinguished guests. So pleasant a time was being had by many that Secretary of the Navy Gilmer’s urgings to go above deck and view Peacemaker’s final salute as they passed Mount Vernon was met with only tepid interest. Most of the ladies declined to leave their seats and only President Tyler’s agreement to go above convinced others to leave their refreshments and rejoin the crew on the gun deck.

However, in an incredible instance of Providence—touchingly outworked in the form of familial love—Tyler felt compelled to linger below a little while longer, until his son-in-law finished his rendition of a sea shanty. The delay most likely saved President Tyler his life. He was halfway up the ladder when above deck, Captain Stockton pulled Peacemaker’s firing lanyard and the big gun burst. Its left side failed completely, spewing chunks of hot metal all across the deck and into the assembled onlookers.


Captain Robert Field Stockton (1795-1866)


A contemporary Currier & Ives illustration of the Peacemaker’s explosion aboard the USS Princeton

Five men were instantly killed: Secretary of State Abel Upshur; Secretary of the Navy Thomas Walker Gilmer; Captain Beverley Kennon; the Navy’s Chief of Construction, Virgil Maxcy, a Maryland attorney and federal officeholder; and David Gardiner, a New York lawyer, Senator and the father of Tyler’s 23-year-old fiancée, Julia. A sixth man, Armistead—President Tyler’s valet and close friend—died only a few moments later.


Secretary of State, Abel Parker Upshur (1790-1844)


Secretary of the Navy, Thomas Walker Gilmer (1802-1844)

This dreadful death toll made the explosion stand out as the Navy’s worst disaster during peacetime up to that point, killing more high-level figures at once than any other incident in American history. Around twenty others were injured to varying degrees, including Captain Stockton himself. The entire ship trembled from the deafening blast, a dense cloud of white smoke smothered everything, quickly roiling down the stairs and choking the luncheon party, as the crew’s screams for a surgeon rose amidst the pandemonium. It was almost impossible to see or breathe as the ship’s occupants rushed above decks to ascertain the damage. The scene was gruesome in the extreme. According to the editor of the Boston Times—himself an eyewitness—when the smoke had cleared, dead bodies with detached arms and legs could be seen littering the deck. Unconscious guests with open head wounds lay near the destroyed gun. Some of the wounded were struck deaf by the explosion, their eardrums ruptured. Senator Thomas Hart Benton of Missouri was blown flat on his back and suffered a concussion, while a woman who had been holding his arm was thrown into the rigging, although amazingly, she was unhurt.

It is said that when President Tyler saw the bodies of his cabinet officers, Upshur and Gilmer, and that of his valet Armistead, he wept. Lovely, plucky and very young, Julia Gardiner rushed above deck, saw the mangled remains of her father, and promptly fainted into the arms of President Tyler. Another vessel came alongside the devastated Princeton and took aboard the wounded and the two hundred shaken ladies: President Tyler carried Julia Gardiner over the gangway himself before returning to lend whatever help he could. One woman who did not leave Princeton’s decks in the immediate aftermath was the grand dame of Washington, former First Lady, Dolley Madison. At seventy-seven years of age, she stayed behind and tended to the wounded with her own hands, pale but staunch in her nauseating work.


Dolley Madison (1768-1849), photographed in 1846

In the aftermath, rather than ascribe responsibility for the explosion to individuals, Tyler wrote to Congress the next day that the disaster “must be set down as one of the casualties which, to a greater or lesser degree, attend upon every service, and which are invariably incident to the temporal affairs of mankind.”

The public reaction to the tragedy aboard the Princeton was, of course, one of profound shock and national mourning. The National Intelligencer noted soberly:

“Never in the mysterious ordinance of God has a day on earth been marked in its progress by such startling and astounding contrasts—opening and advancing with hilarity and joy, mutual congratulation and patriotic pride, and closing in scenes of death, and disaster, of lamentation and unutterable woe.”


The ship’s bell from the USS Princeton

The unease the incident sparked was amplified by the near-miss of losing President John Tyler himself, along with the contextual complication of Tyler having no clear successor. The situation was such that by February of 1844, there was still no clearly defined succession in regards to the Presidency in the event of a President’s death.

Back in 1841, John Tyler had been William Henry Harrison’s Vice President, and upon Harrison’s untimely death, Tyler had rushed from his home in Williamsburg, Virginia to Washington, D.C. in order to have himself installed as Harrison’s successor—fearing with good reason that Senate majority leader, Henry Clay, might make a claim for the same. Tyler had been successful in his daring and had served out the rest of the ill-fatted Harrison’s term as his own, although he was referred to ever after as “His Accidency.” Thus Tyler had set the precedent for succession under the Constitution’s “accidental presidency” clause, but he had done so without a replacement Vice President of his own.


An 1844 map titled “Map of Texas and the Countries Adjacent”

If Tyler had died in this freak accident, the rules for Presidential succession might look very different today, and matters of great consequence to our nation never have been achieved. One such accomplishment that Tyler achieved was laying the groundwork for bringing the great Republic of Texas into the Union. This goal became the great ambition of Tyler’s last year in office, one that he was energetically aided in by his young wife, the pretty Miss Julia Gardiner who had lost her father aboard the Princeton. After Tyler had signed the necessary papers to bring Texas in, he gave Julia the golden pen he had used, and she proudly wore it from a necklace about her neck. It was said this joint goal of theirs cost him re-election, but by that time Tyler had become known as the President without a party, one of the only men in Washington principled enough to vote in line with his conscience and not affiliation.


Julia Gardiner Tyler (1820-1889) in 1844, the year of both the Princeton incident as well as her marriage to John Tyler

In the same vein, John Tyler would become the only United States President to die a citizen of another country—he had, along with his native state of Virginia, seceded in 1861 from the Union he had once sought to enlarge, and was serving at the time of his death as a Representative of the Confederate States of America.


Step into Virginia’s living history on this immersive journey through four generations of the Tyler family. From the founding era and the constitutional defense of the young Republic, through the trials of the War Between the States and into the modern age of historic preservation, Dr. Bill Potter will lead you through ancestral homes and gravesites that anchor each generation’s story. Along the way, we examine themes of multigenerational vision, public service, and preparing one’s children for lives of purpose. We will reflect on Jamestown’s centennial commemorations and attend the annual reenactment at Fort Pocahontas, considering the war’s impact on this important Virginia family and the enduring importance of historical memory. Learn More & Register >>

Corporal Thomas William Bennett, Awarded the Medal of Honor, 1969

2026-02-11T11:27:03-06:00February 11, 2026|HH 2026|

“By this we know love, that He laid down His life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers.”
—1 John 3:16

Corporal Thomas William Bennett, Awarded the Medal of Honor, February 11, 1969

Few conflicts in the course of American history have stirred such profound division and soul-searching as the Vietnam War. This era was marked by new heights of governmental deception, catastrophic irresolution, and social rejection of the American identity. Perhaps most odious of all at the time was the implementation of the draft to fuel this war, pulling young men from farms, factories, and campuses into a conflict that many questioned, protested, or outright fled.

Amid the chaos of war and public dissent, there emerged a different breed of hero. With a response unique to his time, one devout young man decided to serve his country in the medical corp despite his personal convictions regarding war. In the fullness of God’s plan, he would become our nation’s second conscientious objector to earn the Medal of Honor.

Corporal Thomas William Bennett was a young Baptist from Morgantown, West Virginia, whose gentle spirit belied a steel resolve. Born in 1947, Bennett grew up steeped in the teachings of Christ, on the front row of a fundamentalist church which instilled in him a profound aversion to taking life. In college, Bennett taught Sunday School, drafted a students’ code of ethics, and founded the Campus Ecumenical Council. When the draft called in 1967, Bennet volunteered for service as a conscientious objector and pursued the role of a medic—thus reconciling his religious convictions with the spirit of patriotism instilled in him by his stepfather, a veteran of WWII. So it was, that on January 5, 1969, after being trained as a medic throughout the previous summer and fall, Private First Class Thomas Bennett said goodbye to his family for the last time and travelled to Vietnam to join Company B of the 1st Battalion, 4th Infantry Division.


Cpl Thomas William Bennett (1947-1969)

The jungles of Pleiku Province, in the Central Highlands—wherein he soon found himself—were a hellish labyrinth of booby traps, monsoons, and ambushes. Despite such harrowing conditions, Bennett kept up the steady correspondence with his family that he had begun in basic training, sending back to the States both letters and audiotapes, candidly describing his experience and the ethical struggle that remained warring inside him. As he said in one letter home, “Out of obligation to a country I love I will go and possibly die for a cause I vehemently disagree with.”


Members of the 3rd Battalion, 12th Infantry, 4th Infantry Division take a break from building a bunker in Vietnam, November 25, 1967

Then on February 9, 1969 as Bennett’s company patrolled the thick jungle around Chu Pat, they were ambushed by Northern Vietnamese troops. Despite the ensuing firefight, Bennet ran forward past his lines to give first aid to three wounded men and carry each casualty back to safety. His sergeant, James McBee, promptly nominated Bennett for the Silver Star in honor of the risks he took that day. When nominating Bennett, Sergeant McBee also marveled to Company Commander Cowsert that “nothing stops him… he said he wasn’t afraid at all, that he was trained to be a medic and that was his job. He said the Lord would protect him and if he dies it’s God’s will.”


Silver Star

The action, however, was far from being over, and as was common in that brutal guerrilla war, the firefight bled on from February 9th to the 10th, and carried on through the morning of the 11th. Throughout this time Bennet continued caring for the wounded that only multiplied as the hours passed. On the 11th, Bravo company got pinned down by enemy snipers; five American soldiers were wounded in the initial volley alone. Bennett once again risked his life dodging from one place under heavy shelling to another to treat and retrieve these men. When he made it clear to his fellows that he intended to go out from behind their shelter again and help a man some 45 meters away, his friends protested that he’d never make it. Courage prevailed as Bennett yelled back over the gunfire that he had to get to the wounded soldier or the man would die. It was as simple as that in his mind.

And so, Thomas Bennet left his cover and ran towards his stricken comrade. As he did, he was mortally wounded by a burst of AK-47 fire.

Bennett had been in Vietnam for only three weeks. He was several months shy of his 22nd birthday. His Sergeant, McBee, wrote that Bennet not only saved many lives, retrieved the bodies of those who had been killed in action, and gave medical aid to “many others,” but also inspired the company to soundly defeat the numerically superior enemy force. McBee changed his recommendation that Pfc Bennett, (posthumously promoted to Corporal) be awarded the Silver Star to that of being given the Medal of Honor. This was approved and President Richard Nixon presented the medal to Bennet’s parents on April 7, 1970, Bennett’s 23rd birthday.

Bennett is the only conscientious objector to earn the Medal of Honor during the Vietnam War. He is only the second in all of American history.


Medal of Honor, Army edition

It is common and entirely right for us as children of God to desire our sacrifices to mean something, whether they be small everyday pains or the finality of laying down one’s life. We may envision such sacrifices as glorious; for some of us that may be the case. Yet for many of us the times may place us where our sacrifices are threatened to be swallowed up by events larger than ourselves, events where the cause looks far different than we expected, where our sacrifices get muddied in the brutal crucible of fallen reality. Here is where Providence has painful lessons—whatever our circumstances, God has promised us a way of escape, a way to glorify Him regardless. He has shown us what He requires of us. Thomas Bennet longed for a war like the one his stepfather served in on the beaches of Iwo Jima; one that was just as brutal but where the principles of good and evil were undeniable. Instead, Bennet found himself in the perpetual nightmare that was Vietnam. Yet he knew what gave actions their meaning. It is God alone who does that, and He does it well.

Thomas Bennet lived his life for others, and willingly gave it up in an errand of mercy. Such bravery is never anything less than the beautiful outworking of God’s love for us, through each other.

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