Newspaper Page Text
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Ufa? ffost
For the Banner of the South.
Dibbrel’s Command.
BY ED. YOUNG.
[The cavalry force under Dibbrel accompanied
Prosident Davia as far as Washington, Georgia. About
the middle of May, 1865, they surrendered to the
United States forces then in possession of that section
of the country. They were the last of Lee’s veterans
who laid down their arms, and the following lines
were written on the occasion of their passing through
our village on their way to their homes.]
I stand on the porch that looks out on the road,
On this beautiful morning in May;
For they tell me the remnant of Dibbrel’s command
In an hour will be passing this way.
They are coming! the last of the heroic band
That have battled for Freedom in vain;
Their banner is shrouded—’tis tattered and torn—
God be praised! it has never a stain.
They are coming! I hear them —I see the long line
Os the heroes in jackets of grey;
They are here —and bare-headed I stand in the sun
To do honor to them on their way.
Bare-headed salute I the banner, now shrouded,
The symbol of Country and Right!
Bar tvheaded salute I the heroes that bore it
Victorious in many a tight.
Oh, boys! there is pride in my heart as I gaze
On your faces so honest and true,
And see how right royal you look when compared
With those cowardly ruffins in blue.*
God be with you! my brothers; you’re hurrying home,
And there’s something of joy in your sorrow;
Your are thinking of ail the dear faces you’ll see
Gather’d round the old firesides to-morrow.
And I wish you all joy; but my heart is oppress’d
With a feeling of sadness and pain,
For the veil of the Future looks dark like a pall,
In the vision that 'presses my brain;
And I fear that the best of our days have gone by,
And the years full of sorrow begun;
And that we who still live are less happy than they
Who have pass’d from the light of the sun;
Far less happy than they who are sleeping to-day
In their grey jackets tattered and gory,
Where the hands of their brothers have laid them to
rest,
Laurel-crowned on the fields of their glory.
For they never shall feel the fierce tramp of the heel
Os the tyrants who now will lord o’er us.
Nor weep for the Liberty lost to us now
Which the Future may never restore us.
Their fame is secure—nothing ever shall mar
The bright record that’s linked with their name;
But we in the trials and temptings to come
May descend to dishonor and shame.
God be with us, and help us, whate’er may come
In the sorrowful time that remains!
Keep us true to the Right, though ’tis vanquished
to-day,
And the Wrong in supremacy reigns!
Keep us firm for the Right! knowing well that the day
Will arise that our fetters will sever:
For Wrong only lives by permission of God;
But the Right, like Himself, lives forever !
*For two weeks prior to the event that suggested
the above linen, thin section of country had been har
assed and plundered by some U. S. cavalry—ronegaae
East Tennesseeans—and a more villainous set of
scoundrels were never banded together. They were a
disgrace to the uniform they wore, and to the flag
they followed—and that is saying a great deal.
Lexington, Ga., May, 1865.
[From the Cincinnati Commercial.]
GENERAL BRECKINRIDGE-
Lexington, Ky., March 9.
Mr. John C. Breckinridge comes back
to Kentucky a man of commanding
stature, with a face that women call
handsome and men intellectual and
strong, with the same eagle eye that
your readers have seen in pictures of
him as a Confederate Major General.
His cheeks are square from the cheek
bones down, complexion ruddy and
almost florid, moustache and chopped
goatee of mixed gray and sanday,
forehead seamed with lines of thought
and care, and hair very gray, with
much more of gray than any of us
remember in our recollection of him. In
his commanding personal appearance,
his stature of near six feet, he reminds
us of the John C. Brockinridge of
military fame. But, in place ot the
gray, gold, and silver of his warlike
days, he wears a plain dark suit of
civilian’s clothes, and in all his foreign
experience he has not forgotten the
cloak that Kentuckians love in common
with Spaniards.
General Breckinridge left Covington
this afternoon, at 2 o’clock, with as
much privacy as possible. I understand
that Mr. Wash. McLean, of the En
quirer, accompanied him to the train,
after having been his host in Cincinnati.
He had hoped to avoid recognition,
in a great measure, and to this end
word had been given out that he had
already passed down, and that he had
gone by the way of Louisville. All
along the line of the road from Cov
ington to Lexington, the stations had
been visited by anxious and expect
ant crowds for two days, all desirous
of catching a glimpse of the man who, as
a Winchester lawyer said to me to day,
“was more loved by Kentuckians than
any living man.”
The General, in company with his
wife, occupied seats in the rear car, and
at all the small stations between Cin
cinnati and Cynthiana, those who bad
waited and watched for him gathered
around the car, and forced him to ex
change words with them. At Cynthi
ana, the first important stopping-place,
the crowd cheered him, and demanded
his appearance on the rear platform.
Said one of the observers: “God
bless him; he looks better than when
we fought together.” Crowds made
their way into the car, and took him
by the hand. To all he was the urbane,
gentlemanly Breckinridge of old, but
to all he said: “Gentlemen, you must
excuse me for being quiet; I am here
by permission, and it is my request
that I be allowed to pass quietly.”
But he had a kind word from the
heart for many an old acquaintance,
and more than once his eye filled as
old times forced themselves upon his
mind. Said he, “I am glad to get to
my home once more. It is nearly eight
years since I w r as here.” When asked
if Ithe old scens were familiar to him,
he answered “Yes,” and then dived
with some personal friends into many
reminiscences of the past, and many
personal recollections of old associations.
At Paris the demonstration exceeded
even that at Cynthiana. Despite the
rain there was a large crowd on the
platform, and many calls were made
for his ''appearance After shaking
hands at the window, he could not resist
the demands for his appearance on the
platform, and put on his cloak and went
out* There was wonderful shaking of
hands, and many words of kindness.
“How is my old friend, Colonel H.?”
said he. “He is one of the oldest friends,
and when I ask for him I ask for all.”
Here again General Breckinridge assur
ed them of his desire for quiet, as he
was here on permission. He had many
kiudly words of greeting, such as “God
bless you,” “General it does the heart
good to see you,’’ “Young as ever,” &c.
The General replied that he was well and
glad to get back, but felt older, and
certainly had grown gray. Colonel
Woodford, of the Southern Hotel, met
the General at Cynthiana, and introduced
many to him, among them an Ohioan,
who said he never saw the General, but
voted for him over there.
A conversation sprung up about the
Cabinet. As to Stewart, General Breck
inridge said. “He thinks, doubtless, he
will make a good Secretary, and so lie
may, as he has head enough to acquire
a big fortune for himself, but it was
strange they never thought of that law.
Sumner would never forgive himself for
not being the first to find that out.”
The General refused a pressing invita
tion to stay at Paris, and left the crowd
there waving him adieu, and pushed on
for Lexington. As he neared Lexing
ton, this returned csdlo peered out, into
the gathering night to eaten the fumilai
object of childhood days, and recognized
many a one as he sped onwaid, and
spoke of them to friends who gathered
around him. “Nearley eight years ago/’
said he twice in soliloquy, as old land
marks sped behind, and theu was silent.
At Lexington station the waiting crowd
peered into the cais, and when he ap
peared cheered, “three cheers for General
Breckinridge.” The object of the cheers,
modest as ever, simply shook hands and
pushed his way to a carriage with his
wife, and with cheers following him drove
to Will Breckinridge’s residence, his
home for a time, where all the evening
a crowd of visitors andadmiiCTS con
gratulated him. He was reticent as to
politics, and his friends did not speak
much of the past, but welcomed him as
one simply returned home from a long
absence —one much loved and long expec
ted. To reporters he said he did not want
publicity—only quiet. A serenade was
arranged, but a heavy rain prevented up
to 10 o’clock. The General had deter
mined to simply return thanks m ten oi
fifteen words.
THE SERENADE OF GENERAL BRECKIN
RIDGE AND HIS SPEECH.
Despite the rain, a serenade took place
at half-past 10 to night, preceded by
bonfires and rockets. A large crowd,
preceded by a band, assembled in front
of the house, the band playing and the
people cheering for General Breckinridge
When the band had ceased playing
“Home Sweet Home,” somebody called
for “Hail to the Chief.” and the crowd
demanded “Dixie.” The rain was falling
in torrents then, but there were loud calls
of “Down umbrellas,” and down went
umbrellas, and up went cheers into the
rain. At this point General Breckinrid
ge appeared, and, amid deafening cheeis,
commenced speaking. Ins rernaiks
attracted close attention, and were
greeted at the close with rounds ol cheers.
General Breckinridge said:
11 Fellow-Cib 7 ens —In returning home
after so lorg «n absence, I would be a
very strange jeiug if I were insensible to
this very cordial reception from my
friends and neighbors. I feel it deeply,
and I thank you sincerely. Recently 1
have observed that it is very difficult
for persons in my situation to pursue that
line of conduct that they may wish to
pursue. Nevertheless it may be proper
to say that I accept this informal, but
most cordial welcome, as purely personal,
’ and containing no particle of political
M®ii® ©i mt
significance. [A voice, “That’s right.”|
Indeed, I can and will say that the trem
endous events of the last eight years
have had a tendency to deaden, if not
destroy old party feelings, and for myself
I can say that I no more feel the politi
cal excitements that marked the scenes
of my former years than if I were an
extinct volcano. I will not now say
more, except to express the pleasure
that I feel in coming back to the people
whom 1 so dearly loved.”
—
From the Paris Press.
EX-PRESIDENT DAVIS-
Mr. Jefferson Davis visited on the
20th of January the Imperial military
school of St. Cyr. He was accompanied
by two officers of the late SDuthcrn army
and by Mr. Slidell, who represented the
Confederate States in France during the
whole secession war.
General de Gondrecourt extended to
his visitors the usual courtesies in the
most exquisite manner. The batallion
happened to be practising and under
arms; onefof the pupils had taken the
command of it, and the ex-Miuister of
War of the United States, the ex-organ
iser of West Point, the man who was,
during four years, the soul of one of the
greatest struggles which history has
recorded, felt an admiration which he
did not try to conceal in seeing the dril
ling of these youths, who are, in some
respects, the personification of the
military qualities of the whole country.
During the visite, Mr. Jefferson Davis
conversed familiarly in English with
several pupils; he visited the classrooms,
the amphitheater, the museum rooms,
the marble tables on which are engraved
the names of the pupils who have
become generals, the schools
where the riders were practising. He
left the school deeply moved by the
sympathetic reception he had experien
ced.
A LETTER FROM HON. J. P. BENJAMIN.
In the New Orleans Times , of Feb.
28th, we find the following letter from
Hon. J. P. Benjamin, which should put
an end to a prolific source of anxiety and
outlay by our people :
Lamb Building, Temple, )
London, Feb. 3, 1869. \
To the Editor of the N. 0. Times :
Will you permit me through your col
umns to send a word of warning to the
public against a scheme of swindling
which is now extensively practised in the
United States l
Since my call to the English bar hun
dreds of letter have reached me from
Louisiana and other parts of the Union,
written by persons many of whom are
educated and intelligent, making inqui
ries relative to estates represented as ex
isting in this country unclaimed, and
awaiting the appearance of heirs residing
in America. In every instance that has
come to my knowledge, the statements
are false, and evidently made lor the
purpose of defrauding parties out of sums,
large or small, uuder pretext of paying
the costs of records, copies, etc., said to
be necessary for the assertion of the pre
tended claim.
One case may be selected as an exam
ple : A banker by the name of James
Wood died in Gloucester, in the year
1880, leaving a fortune of about £BOO,OOO.
His will was the subject of much litiga
tion, but was finally decided to be valid,
and the estate was ordered to be divided
among the legatees, under a decision of
the House of Lords, iu 1847. Any one
desirous of having particulars of the liti
gation can trace it through the different
Courts, as follows : Ist. In the Preroga
tive Court of Canterbury, reported in 2
Curteiss, p. 82. 2d. On appeal to the
Privy Council, in 2 Moore’s Privy Coun
cil Cases, at p. 855. And 3d. in the
House of Lords, in the case entitled
“ The Corporation of Gloucester vs. Os
borne.” 1 House of Lords Cases, page
272. Although liis estate has thus beeu
finally settled and distributed f>r more
than twenty years, I do not at all exag
gerate in stating that not a month passes
without my receiving one or more letters
from persons who are approached by
some pretended agent of some imaginary
great firm of London solicitors, engaged
in seeking for the heirs of the great in
testate banker, James \\ ood, whose for
tune, amounting to ten millions sterling,
is lying iu the Bank of England awaiting
a claimant.
The usual mode of proceeding adopted
is to propose to undertake the business
free of expense, only the proposer
to receive a share of what may be
recovered. This seems so reasonable
that in most cases the dupe readily swal
lows the bait. A shoit time afterwards
he is informed that all inquiries and re
searches have resulted tavorably. aud
that nothing is wanted to insure success,
except the cost of a few copies of records
and other papers, and that the proposer
having already incurred great expense
in conducting the necessary inquiries and
researches, is left without resources at
the very moment when a few pounds
would suffice to secure the fruits of his
labor and expenditure. Many are the
victims from whom suras, varying
from twenty to five hundred pounds,
have been thus extracted, and the num
ber of persons engaged in this system
must be very great, and the sums re
ceived by them very considerable, if at
all in proportion to the number of letters
received here on the subject. Many
thousands of pounds are known to have
been expended by those who could ill
afford to bear the loss iu the pursuit of
the great Jennings estate; and some of
those who have spent money in this
way have actually been deluded into
writing to me their conviction that they
were entitled to dislodge the present
Duke of Marlborough from Blenheim
Castle, by virtue of their descent from
the famous Duchess Sarah Jennings.
Most of the persons who are duped
are ignorant on two points which, in
nearly every instance, would satisfy
them at once of the utter folly of the
hopes they indulge. The first is, that
an alien cannot be an heir in England
when there is no will, and that he can
not take real estate even if left to him
by will. The second is that, in England,
estates devolve upon the oldest son alone ,
and on his eldest son in succession, and
are not divided in shares among all the
children, as in Louisiana and other States.
Yet nothing is more common than for
persons to assert heirship to the supposed
shares of younger brothers and sisters, or
to claim, as natives of the United States,
heirship to Englishmen who had left no
wills.
In the hope that exposure will be of
some use to my fellow-citizens, in whose
welfare I retain the deepest interest, and
may protect them to some extent from
the sharpers who are plundering them,
I remain, very respectfully, your obedient
servant, J. P. Benjamin.
Selected for the Banner of the South.
Sursurn Corda.*
HK RHINE.
Bending o’er a marble stone.
These the words that caught my eye;
Telling of a spirit flown,
To its home above the sky.
Replete with hope and holy love,
Seemed these sacred words to me;
Bidding the mourners “look above’’
For sorrows’s balm and sympathy.
A sculptured rose, but scarce full-blown,
Bespoke the youth and loveliness
Os her who slept beneath that stone,
The quiet sleep of holiness.
A fragile bud was pictured there,
Just severed from the parent flower;
It seemed too delicately fair
To bloom beyoud the Heavenly 1
A marble cross told of the trust
With which the Christian mourners gave
Their loved one to the silent dust,
Their idol to the lonely grave.
But neither bud, nor cross, nor flower,
Were half so full of faith and lore,
as those few words of magic power
Which bid the mourner “look above.”
Lifting the heart to scenes of bliss
Where dwell the loved ones gone before;
Who, watching o’er the storms of this,
Await us ou the peaceful shore.
"Stjksum Corda,” these the words
I’d have engrave o’er my head.
Where sweetly sings the Summer birds
A requiem for the Christian dead.
* Inscribed on the tomb of a young mother and her
infant child, in the Lafayette Cemetery of New Orleans
LEGEND OF THE WANDERING JEW
A wild and terrible legend is that of
the Middle Ages, which personified the
Jewish nation by the traits of the Wan
dering Jew. It represented an old man,
with naked feet, uncovered head, and
long, whiteboard, wandering ccaselesslv
over the earth. His face is pale, a
mark of blod is upon his forehead, his
eyes burn like sapphires beneath the
oblique lids. With an eagle like nose,
and bloodless lips, squalid and harsh in
features, and clad in a coarse woolen
gown, he ever pursues, with stalf in
hand, his interminable journey. Speak
ing all languages, aud traversing all
lands, knowing not the purpose of God
concerning' himself, and ever driven on-
ward by a secret impulse, he is transpor
ted from place to place with the speed of
the wind; and as the long centuries suc
cessively close, his old age renewed
with the vigor of youth, in order that he
may complete the weary round of ages.
The people wonder as he hastens past.
Once or twice only has he paused to
tell his stoiy. He was of the Jewish
nation, Ahasuerus by name, and a shoe
maker by trade—Dwelling in Jerusa
lem he persecuted our Saviour, and was
of those who cried “Crucify Him!” The
sentence of death having been pronoun
ced, he ran to his house, before which
Jesus was to pass on the way to Calvary.
Taking his child in his arms, he stood
at the door with all his family, to behold
the procession, Our Saviour, weighed
down by the burden of the cross, leaned
for a moment agaiust the wall; and the
Jew, to show his zeal, struck the innocent
one a cruel blow, and pointing to the
place of execution, bade him go on. Then
Jesus, turning to the unfeeling child ©f
Israel, said:
“Thou reftisest rest to the Son of God:
I go, for ft must needs be;
But for thee there shall be no rest
Or repose until I return.
Go forth on thy long journey.
Leave thin ovm; travers mountains and seas,
Pausing neither in the cities nor the deserts,
Now where—not even in the tomb,
As an example to the universe, and bearing
Everywhere the weight of my heavey curse,
Much shalt thou long for death, thy deliverance,
But shalt not die until the day of judgment.”
He assists at the execution, and then
goes forth a mysterious stranger whose
feet shall become familiar with all lands.
How, age after age, he longs for the
sweets of death and the repose of the
tomb! But, in spite of death, he must
live on; his dust shall not mingle with
that of his ancestors. He drags himself
from a gloomy cavern of Mount Carmel
shaking the dust from his beard grown'
even to his knees. Nine grinning skulls
are before him* He seizes and hurls
them from the top of the mountain, and
they go bounding down from rock to
rock. They are the skulls of his paren
ts, of his wife and six small children all
of whom have been able to die—but he
cannot. He rushes into the flames of
falling Jerusalem and attempts to bury
himself beneath the crumbling ruins of
Rome; but in vain. Flying from cities
and men, the wanderer seeks the solitary
places of the earth. He climbs the ever
lasting mountains; passes beyond the
regions of verdure and of dashing torr
ents, his feet tread the seas of amethyst
and opal. Above him are only peaks
shrouded in mists and eternal snows.
The daring eagle soars not so high.
There are no sounds save the cracking
glaciers. The soul seems almost to
touch the heavens above—There, surely
the Wandering Jew shall rest? No. A
pursuing angel unsheathes a sword of
flaming fire, and lo! the wanderer beholds
once more in the heavens the drama of
the crucifixion. The way from earth to
heaven is storied with myriads of cel
estial beings, radiant with light. Before
him are all the martyrs and saints and
sages, who have ever lived and died. F< r
a moment he gazes upon the vision; and
turns away, chased by the sword of flame
and demons of frighful form. Then be
again wonders over the earth, ever, with
tine pieces of copper in his pocket, ever
with the mark of blod upon his forehead.
Maddened with the agony of life, he
throws himself into the crater of .Etna,
but the boiling liquor and sulphurous
flames harm him not. The floods of
lava vomit him forth, for his hour is not
yet come. Embarking upon the sea,
the wind rises its surface into mountain
waves, the vessel divides, and all perish
save the Wandering Jew’. Too light to
sink in the ocean, its waves cast him
upon the hated shore. He pluoged into
a hundred blody conflicts without sword
or shield. All in vain. The leaden
balls rain harmlessly upon him; battle
axes and scimetars glance from his
charmed body. Where mounted sduad
rong fight with the fury of demons, he
casts himself under the feet of horsemen
and is unharmed, so rivited are his squl
and body together. He says to Nero,
“Thou art drunk with blood; to Christian
and Musslmen, “Drunk art thou with
blood.” They invent the most horrible
tortures for his punishment, yet injure
him not. Leaving, in his vain pursuit
of death, the lands that trob with life and
industryjthe Wandering Jew threads the
solitary juogles of the tropics. He
walks in poisned air, and fierce lions and
flat-headed serpents will only sport
with him as he hastens by.
And thus, he wanders through cities
of splendor, and through deserts ol dark
ness, until the clock of heaven strikes
the last note of time, and beholds the
sun go down to rise no more, and lean
ing his wearied spine and aching head
against a blighted tree of the forest, he
throws off his soleless shoes and tattered
garments, bids farewell to time, tojue,
to death, and the last living man of tne
race of Adam, plunges into eternity-
A Valuable Recipe.—The following
recipe is valuable to those who have slim
bosoms, as well as to laundresses and hou?e
wives who have men aud boys about tIK
house: .
To do up Shirt Bosoms.—Take tw
ounces of fine white gum arabic powder
put it into a pitcher, aud pour on a 1
or more ot hot water— and then g
covered it, let it stand all night,
morning pour it carefully from the
into a clean bottle, cork it and keep u 1 ‘
use. A tablespoonful of g um . ff ’ t j e
stirred in a pint of starch mace m ,' f
usual manner, will give to the lawn. -
white or printed, a look of new any. .j
nothing else can restore them,
have been washed.
Rree. —Specimen copies ot the I>aN n
of the South will be sent tree t 0 yV;
address in the country. Send for c;) F 1
or distribution.
