AUTOGRAPH LETTER OF PRESIDENT JEFFERSON DAVIS.
Writttfn July 25,1881, Touching "Secession as a Right and Remedy."
Tbe letter of President Davis which follows touches upon the vital issue of 1861-5, and was written In
•nHNrnr to an inquiry made by one who was called at that time to answer questions by the-, senior students In
Baunke CBl1eK« la regard to national questions under the Constitution. Held as a "private" letter for twenty
years, it's now placed before the public as worthy of publication because of the issue it meets so fairly
•ad judicially It is worthy of the great man whose merits ate being more and more appreciated.
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THE NAMELESS GRAVE
01 BY WINIFRED LAURENS
$L «8|
With as In (he South, Memorial
IXvy is MM even more pathetic anni
versary than in the North. Owing to
difference of latitude and climate, too,
ft is observed, in most of the States,
earlier in the spring. In Georgia It
t* observed on April 26th, Instead of
Ifay 30th.
In the North the holiday arose from
the patriotic exertion* of General
Logan; but in the South the observ
ance of the day was originally due
to the personal efforts of a Mrs, Will
iams. of OolunibTiV., Georgia, and be
gan earlier.
With ar, however, little effort or
persuasion was required to initiate
the holiday. In many of our small
towns and villages the custom of
tvrariߣ flowers' to the graves of our
dead soldiers Ix-gnn spontaneously.
I reraembcr that In the first years
nfter the war we were accustomed on
that to drive to the cemetery in
•oar old family carryall, loaded with
wreaths of cedar and glossy magnolia
leaves, made on long, pliant willow
branches; piled, too, with sprays of
dogwood and .bushels of wild purple
pansies am! dog-tooth violets from
the valley of the Oostana'.ila, and
crab-apple and peach-blossoms from
the fields.
The old carryall was an arbor of
fragrance, all its old ribs and worn
wheels hidden in pink and white
blossoms,
Yet however- heavily -we went
loaded to the cemetery, we never had
flowers enough flu* all the graves,
there were so many of them. Always
there would be found one more grave,
in some far coiner, still bare of floral
tributes; and my father, himself a
tame veteran of Lee's anny, would
rail to ns to fetch, another armful.
If we said there were no more, he al
ways hade «s divide those on the
other graves and make up what
twemed an equal "honor" for the neg
lected rrnc. •
There was >Qne grave, however—
not in The but down under
the magnnlins by the fence, in the ex
■treme corner of our grounds at
SprJrvgbank which for many years
»» one of ns c'rtT dreamed of decor
ating witli flowers. .
.
"And Yon Havtf "Dnnr This—These Flowers
—For My Son!"
In trotli, we children never went
near the spot. Only In low, awed
tones or whispers did we ever speak
of tt —"the Yankee's grave!" For in
«I 1 those Bad old days, after Sher
jmam'u devastating march through
Georgia, the name Yankee was to OS
■emetlUßg tar more terrible than that
of IBAU; it was the synonym for
f»atiMw and grief.
hi My childish thoughts, too. the
-vortf eras even more dreadful. On
tbc 4ay before the battle at Wood
luto, fear miles from Sprlngbank, a
troop of Northern cavalry had halted
-at war plaee to water their horses,
—swat troopers cam* Into the
house. J\ty mother put us children In
the parlor and hastily locked the
door; but trie windows stood open
wide, and with childish c.int-i.:!ty 1
had toddled forward and stood under
the hlKh sash, watching the horses.
One of the cavalrymen crossed the
piazza, -and before I could run away,
lie caught me up and kissed ine! To
A \IOW MKMOIUATi TO TIIK I'JUvS
IHKNTOK TIIK CONFKIIKItACY.
Jefferson Davis is here port rayed In
an emotional role, with one band rest
ing on the open book of history. The
statue is by Edward Valentine, and
was dedicated recently In Richmond.
this day 1 seem to hear his words,
"You Utile deiy! You are the very
image of my little sister Rosy!"
For years afterward, whenever my
brothers or younger sister Josephine
wished especially to humiliate or
plague ute, tney would pofot the tjn
ger of scorn and cry, "A Yankee
kissed you! A Yankee kissed you!"
Jt may possibly have been the same
young trooper, although that is un
likely, whom, after the skirmish and
battle across the fields, our old house
servant. Uncle Joe, found near the
fence down by the magnolias, shot
tiirough the lungs, mortally wounded
unconscious. , "
I was but three at the time, I
retain of course, but a confusecjf recol
lection of the fight, the shouting and
yelling outside, the burning barns,
the awful sounds of the firing and the
well-nigh frantic fears of my mother
for our safety. , ■
Kelley's brigade of Missisaipplans
wns formed across the road and
across our plantation; the rnemv was
repulsed, and fell back to Woodlands,
leaving a number of their dead and
wounded. Dt)t these were-all taken
away that night,except this cavalry
man, who was overlooked, and whom
our old colored man found down
there by the fence the following even
ing. He died during the night, and
Uncle Joe brought to my mother a
silver watch with the initials "J. W."
in the back of the hunting-case, and
a small seal ring engraved with a
coronet and two crossed spears.
All the men of our household, as
well as our neighbors, were with the
Southern army. There was no one to
caHlupon; we were even in straits for
food. Nor was there a horse or a
mule or a cart left us. Down there
by the fence, under tho- magnolias, J
Uncle Joe burled the body. And-that,
in brtef, was the story of the
grave.
During all those first years follow
ing the war—so embittered and ter
rible were all its memories—thaV
mound down by the magnolias was a
spot shunned by as all.
But time mercifully and divinely
■often* even embittered memories
such as ours. I think it was on the
day before Memorial Day, 1875, that
as we prepared our floral tributes
for the cemetery, my mother stole
quietly away from the group on the
piazza, and taking a handful of blos
soms, bent her steps to that solitary
little mound under the magnolias.
In wonder our eyes followed her,
and when she returned, Josephine ex
claimed:
"Why, mother, where have you
been ?"
"Let us hope, children, that some
where In the North, kindly hearts are
doing the same for our own name
less graves there—for your Uncle
Plnckney and Cousin Will Gresham,"
she replied 'gently.
We were too much surprised to an
swer.
Afterward, no Memorial Day was
allowed to pass that some one of us
did not rake off that little mound and
freshen It with a few flowers.
So the years passed till 1883. That
we should ever know anything fur
ther concerning this little grave un
der the magnolias seemed Improbable.
It wns merely olio of HO many thou
sands" of nameless graves. South und
North. " i
That spring of 1883, as It chanced,
my Bister and I were at home from
Savannah. My widowed Aunt Lena,
too, from Atlanta, was visiting us.
It was the evening of April 28, two
(lays after our Memorial Day, when
all save the bouquets in jars and
glasses had withered on the graves.
The afternoon had been very warm.
We were sitting out in the piazza, to
enjoy the approaching coolness of
evening and hear the niocklng-ltiiyis
and whip poor wills.
Presently there came to our ears
the rattle of an approaching vehicle;
and slowly the decrepit old carriage
at the railroad-station, which served
nrriving travelers, came tolling to our
gate.
"Who can our visitor possibly be?"
was the thought in all our minds, for
living friends were now few.
A lady In mourning stepped down,
with an air of uncertainty, and came
MISS WINNJK DAVIS.
up the walk. With hospitable Intent,
my mother descended the steps tb
meet her.
"It this the home of Mrs. Leigh?" j
the stranger asked.
"I am Mrs. Leigh," my mother re
plied. "Will you coiue in?"
"1 am Mrs. Warrenton from—
from New England," the stranger
said. *'l fear I may not be welcome.
My motive for coming to you Is a
strange, sad one." She paused, with
a little catch in her voice.
"You are very welcome," my
mother replied, gravely. . Josephine
set out a comfortable chair.
The stranger seated herself, and
after a pause, spoke again:
♦''l do indeed hope that the ques
tion 1 am obliged to ask will Btir no
unpleasant metnorleß of a past which
we who have suffered desire of all
things to forget. My brother and
my son both fell in the terrible war."
She glanced pathetically at ray moth
er's face. "They wore, of course, on
the Northern side," she added. "My
brother was killed at Antletam; but
my son was with Sherman's army,
and was finally reported missing—
and that U all I have ever been able
to learn." Mrs. WArrenton paused
again, to check fast-coming tears.
"I know positively that he was
alive at Dalton," she continued.
"After that I can learn nothing. But
a mother's heart craves more; and
still in the hope «f learning some
thing as to his fate, t have journeyed
South on this sad quest. At the
house of a family near Kingston they
told me of the unidentified grave of a
Federal soldier on your estate.
"I have been to so manx unidenti
fied graves," the poor mother added,
"that hope has nearly failed me. But
tell me, have you, had you, any clue,
or were there any circumstances that
would—aid me to know?"
My mother, greatly touched, could
hardly summon heart to tell her; but
Aunt Lena interposed. "Have you
reason tp think that your son carried
a plain silver watch, marked inside
the case with the initials J. W.?" she
asked. *• *
"Yes, yes!" cried our visitor, eager
ly. "The school watch I gave him on
his sixteenth birthday! Those were
his initials—Jerome Warrenton."
In our growing excitement we were
now all on our feet, gathering about
her.
"And did he wear on hi 3 little fin
ger a signet ring, with a coronet and
crossed spears?" my aunt asked,
quickly.
"Oh, It was he! It was he!" Mrs.
Warrenton cried alpud. "That Js the
crest of my own family," she ex
plained. "O my poor boy! My poor
boy! And have you the watch and
the ring? And his grave—is It fat
to go?"
Too much affected to reply, my
mother rose silently and brought
forth those sad mementoeß of the
terrible past; and then we turned
away Instinctively from a grief too
sacred for the eyes of strangers.
A little later, just as the sun was
setting, "my sister and I led the way to
the little mound under the magnolias,
my mother holding our visitor's
N'or had the bouquets of pansles,
placed there two days before, as yet
wholly withered. It was when,
through her tears, her eyes fell on
these flowers that the last traces of
Mrs. WarreUjton'n reservo vanished.
"And you have done this—these
flowers —for my son! For my poor
dead boy!" she cried impulsively, and
threw her arms about my mother's
nick.
, In truth, a common sorrow makes
ulsters of us all; and It was thus, at
last, that "the Yankee's grave" was
identified.
Mrs. Warrenton remained with us
for nearly a fortnight, and at the end
of hfer visit changed her first intention
A VIEW OK ARLINGTON' ON TIMS POTOMAC.
of having her son's remains removed
and re-interred in the North.
"If I were to do that, dear friends,"
she said to us, "I should feel that I
wns breaking this dea'r new bond of
friendship which, horn of a common
sorrow, nas grown up between us.
Here, where heaven moved your
hearts tp lay flowers on his grave
here let him rest; and I, If you will
permit me, shall come to his grave."
And every spring, since that first
sad pilgrimage to us, Mrs. Warren
ton Journeys southward' to pass a few
weeks at Springbank, and be near the
grave of her son on Memorial Day.—
Youth's Companion.
The Place For It.
An old Scotswoman was advised
by her minister to take snuff to keep
herself awake during the sermon.
Sho answered briskly, "Why dlnna ye
pu' the snuff In the sermon, mon?"
n
I
y „
GENERAL STEPHEN D. LEE.
s', * »,' t ■ - .
TO A DRUMMER HOT.
BT B. W. OBIZZABD, LOCIBVTIXE, XT,
The robins neat in fair Cave Hill
And gentle zephvre blow
Where sleep both braves of blue and gray-
Soldiers of long ago;
The Hiatal are white, the sunshine's bright,
The turf is light and green-
Nobler sires nor braver soldier-
The world has never seen
Hard by Louisville's gay, bustling streets.
Where grim Death bears his own,
Where dwell the dead in their long sleep,
The Reaper has hiS throne;
And there upon a cloudless day
I paused beside a tomb '
To dwell in thought on life and death
In that lone place of gloom.
I mint *v» 1
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Many deep-wrought inscription* there
On Berried grave stones gleamed;
Hut of them all none held my eye
Nor to my fancy seemed
So fraught with love's tender tribute,
Wo tense with woe to come.
As that.which ninml.v told but this:
"Boy, we miss tnee at home."
Long years have flown since he went forth
To live a soldier's life;
The stone that marks his resting place
Tells he fell in the strife.
Gone now the friends who vigils kept
Where his young feet did roam,
Hut biding through all the years this—
"JJoy, we miss thee at home."
"—Confederate Veteran.
Lee and Arlington
After all, It Is at Arlington, on thfl
Potomac, that the present-day visitor
is most vividly reminded of General
Lee and the life he loved so tfell. This
beautiful estate—now a national cem
etery, where 16,000 Union and Con
federate soldiers are buried—ls lo
cated opposite the city of Washington,
ifnd it was here, as has been ex-
plained, that General Lee spent all
j the happiest years of his life. No
person can visit this splenji®)domain,
with its magnificent tret«]_Jjis pano
rama of the river winding lijce a sil
ver ribbon in the distance, and its
{ quaint mansion rendered distinctive
j in appearance by massive Doric col
! umus and not gain a new conception
i of the matchless peace and charm and
restful conteut of the life on the old
t baronial estates of the South in the
j halcyon days before the war.
The stately Arlington mansion,
| which was modeled after the Temple
of Thesus at Athens, was erected In
ISO 4. It is of brick, cbvered with
stucco, and with its two wings has a
frontage of more than 140 feet. The
grand portico is sixty feet in width
i and twenty-five feet in depth. Fea
j tures of the manor house are the rem
j nants of the old decorations, includ-
I ing the huutlng scene fresco, which
I wus painted by General Lee's father
! In-law, Mr. Custls.ivho, with his wife,
is buried in a quiet nook in the woods
on the Potomac, their graves being
, marked by plain marble shafts. Tlilb
i historic home is in an excellent state
' of preservation and visitors pre shown
! ail the apartments of especial inter
-1 est, Including the room in which Gen
eral Lee was married. There is no
j record that General Lee ever returned
i to Arlington after the war, although
j the veteran servants at the Mansion
i have long been wont to declare most
j steadfastly that "Colonel Rob"* was
seen about dusk one evening slowly
riding through the grounds in com
pany with General Grant, pre
sumably bidding a last farewell to his
old home.—Waldon Fawcett.
Farming Without Capital.
It is absurd to expect that the
small farmer, alone among snail
men, should achieve success without
capital. With capital all la possible;
without it only the exceptional man
is likely to be heard of.—Estates Ga
zette.
Germany Is freely imitating Amer
ican patterns in the manufacture of
farm Implements and machinery,
thonah American harvester* still pre
• dominate.
D. BOONE MEMORIAL
Dedicated Near Spencer, N. G,
With Impressive Ceremonies
ADDRESS BY JUDGE PRITCHARD
Six or Eight Thousand People Cams
From Many Sections of the Country
to Honor Memory of Daniel Boone,
"the Great Backwoodsrfan."
Spencer, Special.— The first mem
orial in honor of Daniel Boone, the
noted pioneer, was held at Boone's
Cave, Davidson county, near Spencer
Saturday. The crowd, which was es
timated at from six thousand to eight
thousand people, came from \\ inston-
Salem, Greensboro, High Point, Lex
ington, Salisbury, Charlotte, Ashe
ville, and from counties ad joining
Rowan and Dividaon and some from
other States. 5®
Under the uspices of the Daniel
Boone Memorial Association, charter
ed by the General Assembly of North
Carolina in 1909, Judge Pritchard
spoke in splendid style, captivating
the immense crowd of listeners. He
was introduced by ex-Congressman
John S. Henderson, of Salisbury, who
also made a brief speech. Judge
Pritchard's address which was de
cidedly scholarly was an elaborate dis
course upon the life of Boone, his
work as a pioneer in North Carolina,
and the northwest, making special
mention of his connection with the
State of Franklin at one time a part
of Tennessee as opposed to the fed
eral government. Representative
Robert N. Page, of tin sixth district,
delivered a historical address of much
interest giving many facts in connec
tion with the work of Boone, his ex
perience in North Carolina and what
he did. Col. A. 11. Boyden, of Salis
bury, spoke in behalf of Rowan coun
ty, thanking the ladies of the D. A. R.,
many of whom were present, for their
interest in the celebration. Mr. J. R.
McCrary, of Lexington, one of the
leading workers in the memorial asso
ciation, acted as master of ceremonies.
The monument is a hnge marble
shaft, erected to the memory of Boone
as a doaation from Rowan citizens.
The. memorial is a one-storv, double
roomed, log structure, with clay chim
ney, and shelter, an exact replica of
the homestead built by Boone about
1755. Housed within it are numerous
precious relics, such as guns, hunting
knives, powder horns, and articles of
clothing worn by the pioneer, as well
as cooking utensils used by his family.
The significance of the selection of
the date for the dedication lies in the
fact that April 3© is the 160 th anni
versary of the departure of the Boone
family from Bucks county, Pennsyl
vania, for their new home on the
banks of the Yadkin river and the
141 st anniversary of the departure of
Daniel Boone from North Carolina for
Kentucky.
It is a little known fact that not
many miles away, in old Joppo ceme
tery, near Mocksville, Davie county,
repose the remains of Daniel Boone's
father and mother; The grave of
Squire Boone is marked by a simple
headstone, which has been enclosed
in a steel cage, to save- it from relie
hunters, which bears this literal in
scription :
"Squire Boone departed this life in
sixty-ninth year of life,
in thay year of our Lord 17G5,
Geneary thay 2d."
Charleston Girl Mysteriously Shot.
Charleston, S. C., Special.—Miss
Margaret Musgrave, 22 years old, is
dead and Clarence E. Grimshawe, a
conductor on the Southern Railway,
is seriously wounded as the result of
a mysterious shooting ou a lonely
causeway Thursday night. The young
man and the girl were out walking
together.
Savannah Jury Indicts Packers.
Savannah, Ga., Special.—As a re
sult of the investigation which lias
been carried on by the federal jury
here for several days •into the prices
of meats in Savannah and the cause
for them, an indictment was returned
against five of the big packing con
cerns and three men, local managers
of three of the packing houses, as in
dividuals.
Fortifications for Panama Canal.
Washington, Special.—ln a me»-
sage accompanied by a detailed re
port from the war department, Pres
ident Taft Saturday sent to con
gress information regarding the nec
essity for immediately beginning the
fortification of -the Panama canal in
order to have it completed by 1915.
the date set for finishing the con
struction of the rfinal. The reports
accompanying the message do not give
the exact locations of the proposed
fortifications, but it is expected that
this can not be furnished until in
formation baa been obtained
the "status and availability of cer
tain parcels of land.' 1
Government Pursues Gamblers.
New York, Special.—Following the
raiding Saturday of two alleged buck
etshops, to the accompaniment of
arrests and the cutting of wires, •
new turn has been given to th«
government crusado by the statement
of federal inspectors that other
arrets are to follow and that sev
eral prominent brokers not yet nam*
•d are the real otyeet of attack. (