The Origin of Another Word 

     A while back, in some correspondence, I used the word sorely and was called on to explain myself. The following was my response: I’m sure ya’ll have been waiting to get this explanation, then again maybe you’re saying, huh? The word sorely is not that unusual, a little archaic maybe, but then so is the author. 
    Of course, this lack of interest is because most of you assume that the word sorely comes from the root word sore, and over the years it has taken on somewhat of the same meaning, so I can see how you might be misled about its origin. 
   The definition in Webster is surprisingly correct, and it means the same today as it did when it started to become a much used word. The definition today and then, is and was, “grievously, painful, urgently.” Good word, huh? 
    The only reason I’m aware of its origins is because of my vast knowledge of the Spady family history, and it so happens that the knowledge about this word comes out of that quagmire of irrelevant misinformation. 
    It all started in the early days of the Civil War, or actually earlier than that. Ivan Sorely Spady, was named after his father’s famous Russian mentor, Ivan the Sweet, who was a candy manufacturer in Moscow in the early 1800's. He was famous for his cheese flavored chocolate, (and how that all got started is another story). Ivan’s middle name of Sorely came from his mother, who, when she was handed this bundle of joy seconds after his birth, took one look at him and said, “this kid is one _____ mess.” Her speech was somewhat slurred and they all thought she said sorely, although they couldn’t figure out what that meant, but that became his middle name. 
    Years later, after trying to raise Ivan, his mother still had no reason to change her mind, but out of love for the kid, never revealed what she had said. 
    Anyway he grew up being called Ivan on his good days, and derivatives of his middle name on his not so good days. Mostly this centered on the denominative word of sorry. (Don’t be ashamed to ask about the big words, that’s how you’ll learn.) 
    Ivan and his family lived in Northern Virginia and as the debate raged throughout the country about states’ rights versus federal control, his family was torn between the Southern and Northern views. 
    At the time of the Fort Sumter fiasco Ivan was eighteen years old, and being called on by both the local Confederate and Union enlistment officers. Some from the area were opting for the North and some for the South. (However, there were a couple of Ivan’s cousins who each enlisted on both sides, but that’s another story.) 
     The die was cast when the Northern recruiter, after accidentally smelling Ivan’s breath, promised that because of all the fine dairy farms in Pennsylvania the Union would have a steady supply of cheese for its armies. 
    When Ivan went to sign up, he left off his first name thinking that it sounded too foreign, so to the army he became known as Sorely Spady. When asked if he had any talents he mentioned that he could play the trumpet, so he was sent to bugler training school. Two hours later he was sent back to his company a full-fledged bugler. 
    Sorely was attached to the Commander of the Army, but didn’t see any long-term bugling action until May 1, 1863. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been ready before that, or that he wasn’t around before that, but that there was always some reason that he couldn’t perform his bugling functions. For example: just before the battle of Antietam he was stung on the lip by a bee and all his bugling sounded as though he was signaling “by the left flank to the rear charge” which is a rarely used maneuver; and General McClellan was afraid that the army wouldn’t even know how to do it, let alone recognize it, even if he could figure out when to use it. 
     At the first battle of Bull Run, General McDowell was all set to use Sorely, but on the second note of his first “charge” a rifle ball accidentally carried away the front third of his bugle, and two of his better teeth. He could still blow the notes but nobody could hear him more than five feet away, which left him rather ineffective. 
     At the second battle of Bull Run, General Pope had Sorely at his side as they moved into position. Just at the moment that Pope was going to tell him to blow “charge”, Pope’s horse stepped on Sorely’s foot. The resulting mangled blast was taken by the Northern troops as a sign to retreat, (some have said that any excuse would have worked as well), and so the Confederates retook most of Virginia. 
    It wasn’t that Sorely was having a “trise di nerfs,” as the French would say. He was always ready for action and willing to do his thing but something always happened to befuddle him in some way. By this time the Army of the Potomac, now being led by General Hooker, that’s “Old Fighting Joe” for you CWBs; was, along with the rest of the group, wondering if Sorely was good for them or should they cut off his cheese ration and let him defect to the Southern cause. As Joe and his 120,000 fighting men moved across the Rappahannock to confront General Lee and his army of 60,000, it was decided that Sorely would be given one more try at bugling out the commands. Hooker did some maneuvering that would have been effective, but then decided against it and pulled all his units into a defensive position at Chancellorsville. Lee, seeing the hesitation, attacked. Hooker ordered a retreat, but in the middle of that bugle a Southern ball took off part of Sorely’s right ear, and he was so miffed at what he conceived as a deliberate attempt on the part of the Confederacy to interrupt his life, that he blew a “charge” and thus started three days of horrible killing and maiming. The North lost 11,000 men and the South lost 10,000 men. That battle caused more pain and suffering then anything that had yet happened in the War.       Ever after that event, when anyone felt especially pained, they would just say, “I’m feeling sorely today,” and everyone knew just what they meant.