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Belle Isle

from Heart EP by Andrew Osenga

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about

Belle Isle

I was in Richmond, VA with the Behold the Lamb tour and I went out for a run. It was a damp, foggy day and I ended up running along the James river. The interstate goes over the river on two huge bridges and underneath was this strange, snaking walking bridge hanging just above the fog.

One is helpless but to cross this sort of thing.

I thought it would bring me to the other side of the river, but it didn't. It dropped me off on an island. It was beautiful. There were kayakers racing through the rapids along the shore six feet from where I was running. Trails up and down the rocky, wooded hills were everywhere. I had found some sort of mystic Southern Narnia.

Scattered around the island were those little historical markers, talking about what used to be on that spot earlier. Turns out this island, Belle Isle, was a Confederate prison for soldiers captured at Gettysburg. The South had nowhere near enough resources to take care of its own people, let alone its prisoners of war. They essentially left an estimated 14,000 men to freeze and/or starve to death here on this gorgeous spot.

This song is what I imagine a letter sent back home might look like from of these prisoners.

lyrics

Belle Isle

Dear Evelyn
it's been eight months, two weeks, three days since I've been home
now I'm in the middle of the old James River and it's getting cold
and there ain't much hope

I can't begin
to tell you how I miss the life that could have been
to feel you close, the smell, the warmth desire fed
but you'd best get moving on

cause Lee might have lost the battle there at Gettysburg
but he captured me
they packed us, tattered, shattered all on a belching train
for the capital of the confederacy

now I can see Richmond
from the smooth stone shore here on Belle Isle prison
and it looms like an old white devil out for heaven
making this place hell

where your brothers
will steal your only blanket while you're sleeping
sell it to you in the morning for your scrap of rations
ain't no way to win

cause we might have won the battle there at Gettysburg
but we lost ourselves
this evil rock was once so beautiful, but look around
what man will do, with his conscience quelled

Dear Evelyn
my horizons hemmed by cannons aimed by grey old men
five steps towards the dead line and I'll beat them in
to the arms of our Lord

and I plan to ask him then
where he is when men treat men like rats in filth
when folks can freeze to death a mile from unearned wealth
though it ain't my place

no, my place is in your arms on our farm in Rochester
raising up some boys with your green eyes
if I die tonight under the frozen moon
your name will walk the bridge of my last sigh

Dear Evelyn

credits

from Heart EP, released March 18, 2014

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Andrew Osenga Nashville, Tennessee

Artist, Producer, Writer, Player.
Husband, Father, Friend.

I make music that I want to hear.

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