The Columbia herald. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1850-1873, 1873-01-17
"HOME, SWEET HOME. I"

rooms in the .teyer of the New Yol
: University, faefhg Washington Squl
2 that I met John Howard Payne, IL
author of rs Home Sweet Home" E
2 had lodging On or sar Firth Avenu
| further out and in the morning, on h
way down town, he would invariabl
call between 10 and II A NJ, talk
while, and then together we moved @
} slowly toward the centre of the city; h
, stopping to see every curiosity in til
J windows as we passed, as highly elate
) as a grown boy from the country woul
be at every new surprise, though &
that time he had been a traveller owe
most of the world, had seen every varit
ty of life, and was in the meridian {
his manhood.
His temper and uniform outwar
mood ;Tas as smooth and gentle as
summers lake at eve, not even, disturb
ed by the gentle zephyrs.
We had not met since 1S41, when
was one of the managers of the Ameri
can Institute. I chanced to be intro
duced to him quite accidentally at tn
old City Hotel, very handsome bricl
building of that day, standing on tn
right-hand side of Broadway goin.
down, just this side of Trinity Church
at the head of Wall street, kept b,
Jennings & Willard, the latter of ia
nous memory, long since dead, be
lieve. Were we to pass by this hotel
Willard would probably shake hands
and exclaim: "Oh, yes! Irecollect yor
-recollect you very well. You were
here with Payne and your erratic broth
er. You took a julep about twelve
O'Clock, and Payne wanted his made OF
plain brandy, very weak. / had Just
bought half ton of the best loaf sugar
to be found in the market" None OF
your readers, who go back to those days
thirty years ago, who recollect the pro-
proprietors, famous the world over, OF
the old City Hotel, but will pardon this
depression.
In the spring of '43, as commenced to
say, John Howard Payne gave me an
account of his adventures in Georgia
among the whites, bordering on their
settlements alongside the Choctaw and
Cherokee Indians.
Payne, like many of our Htterati of
small letters, had strong sypathy for the
red mans rights and home, and without
thought of exciting anger, expressed
his kindly feelings to any and every
one.
It was at the time when the people of
Georgia, of the Indian country, had
suffered by massacres and night fires
and murder, till they could endure the
Outrages no longer, and President Jack
son was favoring the removal of the
tribes to the west of the Mississippi.
Travelling alone as Payne was, with
out much baggage, so simple and out
spoken in his manner, it was not long
before he excited suspicion as an Indian
spy; and when they reached the next
stopping place it was whispered about
that he was an enemy, in sympathy
with the Indians who had so often COM
mitted such terrible outrages upon the
white population as to exasperate every
one to bitter enmity to them and all
their friends.
Not dreaming of the cause, they took
Payne, tied his hands behind him-the
most girlish man in the world-and
marched him off between two strong,
fully armed men.
He saw his situation, and began to
tremble and beg and protest and ex-
plain who he was, but to no effect. On
they marched for perhaps half a mile
thickets and fields, passing to-
ward an unusually lighted and respecta-
BILE appearing log cabin. 1t was quite
late in the night, still the inmates SEEM
ed to be moving, and as the party ap-
preached nearer they heard singing;
finally Payne could distinctly recognize
the music of GO Home, Sweet Home"
He protested and tried to break loose
and get to the house. They held him
oF 1n III 70 hn
house, in compassion for the prisoner,
to get some water, for he had tainted.
Meeting an officer from the house
which proved to be the headquarters of
some of the United States soldiers not
long there-he said they had brought
one of the spies of the Indians, "who
claims to have written some song about
Home which 1 never heard tell on"
The officers curiosity was excited,
who, hearing the song at the same time,
went Immediately with the guard to see
5he prisoner, whom he found stretched
Dn the ground.
"What is your name ?" asked the
officer.
"John Howard Payne" said the pris-
Dner, but only little above whisper
90 Good heavens! is it possible?" said !
he officer Unbind him Immediately |
md bring water at once, or I'll blow the
Id brains out of every one of yer
"Here, Payne, take some of this"
handing him a rude camp flask, while |
ne raised his head with his own hands
hat he might drink.
Soon Payne, half dead, was carried to
5he house. There the whole matter
was explained, and our hero was soon
N as comfortable a room as could be
surrounded by officers and Ia
lies, who did everything in their power
20 calm and comfort the author without |
1 home
AS the earth turns on it's axis, giving
1 twilight every minute of the day, |
With its stranger homeless, so we may
know every minute In the twenty-fOurs |
ire repeated in sweet, melancholy |
strains:
Home, sweet Home"
It is sad to think that, although the
author lived to be somewhat advanced |
n years, he died and was buried in for
eign lands, without ever knowing what |
t was to nave home of his own.
The Little Folks.
Scene in Hartford bake-shop: |
Boy presents torn dollar bill. Little
yirl, who is acting chief clerk: MY
,ather is very perpendicular about TAX
ng torn bills