Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1881-03-26
Tie Romance Of a Song.


Way down where the orange.
groves bear fruit in November
and where the pine barrens are
carpeted with flowers in the beau
tiful Florida winter, this old song
was composed in days before the
war. Many a heart has sent its
homs- sick ness out through the
lips in the words and music Of the
dear old song. until it has become
the favorite which never grows
iiresome, never monotonous. The
song was written for tired hearts
and trimbling voices, and when it
rises upon the still air of night, the
passer-by is always ready to pause
until the last strain dies away.
One Florida winter, three years
ago, Colonel Hardee, one of the
noted men of Florida, invited a
number of the Chicago colony TO
visit his plantation and listen to a
lecture on orange culture. The
host was an expert in orange cult
ure, ana as his views were worth
listening TO, especially when prac-
tically demonstrated in his fine
grove, the invitation was eagerly
accepted and a day appointed. At
the time specified, party of per-
haps twenty gathered at the colo
nel's plantation upon the Suwa-
nee river, in the northern portion
of the state, to pass pleasant and
instructive day, and share the hos
pitality of his comfortable home.
After the morning had passed
pleasantly, the guests assembled
after dinner, and about five O'Clock
followed Colonel Hardee to large,
roomy log cabin upon the banks
of the SHwanee river. The host
occupied chair at the end of the
cabin, and the guests arranged
themselves around at PLEASURE
The lecture was witty, and enter
tanning, and instructive, and the
quick-cOming semi-tropical night
began to close down ere the guests
were aware of the long space of
time which had been consumed by
the speaker.
Colonel Hardee suddenly turn
ed from the subject which he had
been pursuing, and said that in
closing he would relate little in
cident which he believed would
interest his audience. Speaking
slowly, he said:
Before the war there came to
Florida two young men who were
Ministries in New York City,
They were broken down in health;
and hoped to regain that precious
boon amid the pine trees and Or
ange groves of Florida. They be-
came the guests of my father upon
this plantation. They were good
banjo players, and such jolly good
companions that they soon became
general favorites. Their favOrite
pastime was in the study of negro
character and they perfected
themselve in initiating the songs
and dances of the slaves. They
became much attached 10 the
place, and when the time came for
their return to their home and
work, they prepared to depart
with as much sadness as man
would feel in leaving the home of
his childhood. The day before
they left they composed the IA
nous song which has attained
worldwide n0tOrity."
The gloom had deepened, and
the speaker was hidden, but every
word was heard distinctly in the
breathless silence which reigned.
With dramatic emphasis, he con-
tinued: "Gentlemen, those men
were Sam Christy and his friend,
and in this cabin, in the chair in
which l am sitting, and upon the
table before me, Sam Christy COM
posed the old song. Way down
upon the Suwanee river F."
Not word was spoken. Every
mind was impressed with the
memories that clustered around
the Rooms in which they were Sit
ting but there was still another
surprise in store. Scarcely had
the sound of the last word died
away, when from the darkness
outside came the blending melody
of chorus of the negroes on the
plantation. 1t was a song sung as
never such song was sung before.
1t was full ofsad memories. Sweet
and clear rose tho tune upon the
calm Florida night and drifted out
oyer the tawny bosom of the
streams, breaking into ripples in
the fragrant pine woods upon the
farther shore, and dying away in
the distance with a sad, ineffable
sweetness. The silent audience
sat in tears and listened, and the
song was
Way down upon the Suwanee river,
Far, far, away,
There's where my heart is turning ever,