Shenandoah. "I've been havin' a little talk with your people about that shellin'," drawls James Stewart, complaining to a cavalryman about a local nuisance subsequently known as the Civil War. Stewart wants none of it. He is not a slave owner. He peacefully tills "500 acres of good rich dirt" in the lush Virginia farm country, where heartwarming Early American cliches spring up like wildflowers, ready for him to mow down.
Chomping on a homemade stogie, Stewart tackles the chore with relish. Sometimes he saunters to the little cemetery in the hollow to talk to his late beloved Martha, gone these 16...
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