The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1886-09-11
OUR BLUE GRASS LETTER.
Editor Exchange.
Lexington, KY, Aug. "a, 1886.

on tne luxurlant blue grass SOD, tina
covers alike the high and the low il
Lexington Cemetery, as we closed gu
last. While standing there at tn,
foot of magnificent monument, on,
hundred ard thirty.fve feet high
surmounted by an immense statue o
the "silvertongued" orator, the lido
Of Kentuckians and Southrons, anC
gazing into the pedestal upon the sar
cophagus that contained the last re-
mains of that honored statesman anC
his loving wife, our minds went back
to the days of our boyhood, when in
IA his silver tones touched the hearts
of his country-men, and when it was
the misfortune of your correspondent
to be the only democrat in his native
town, and how that day after day h.
was licked for political creed" by
the wing boys until he too was forced
nolens volens to hurrah for Henry
Clay and Freelinghuysen.
These reflections lead us in memory
on and on along with our country's
history up to tho late unfortunate
civil war and brought up in our mem
DRY the gifted Breckenridge, who here
upon our right lies under a wide
spreading elm, the spot marked by a
plain marble head stone, and further
on to the gallant, daring John Nor
gan, who there to our front quietly
rests in the family plot; and just be-
yond and down upon western slope
the bold and fearless Buford, whose
name and exploits come up fresh in
our memory, without even slab to
mark his last bivouac; and then to
the left and under the shadow of the
monumental offering to the memory
of Clay and in the hospitable shade
of friendly maple lie the remains of
the brilliant Roger Hanson, who fell
at Stone river, as it were, unwept
and unsung his last resting place,
marked only by the inscriptiveless
fragment of broken marble shaft,
placed there by he kindly hand of
some warm hearted laborer on the
grounds.
As we fingered in sad reverie on
this beautiful spot, made doubly sa-
cred to our hearts by the presence Of
these noble dead, we could not re-
press a tear, as came to mind, unbid-
den, the sad, sad words Of Rip Van
Wrinkle, who, after sleeping absence
Of twenty years away from his boy
hoods home and his darlings, Meme
and Gretchen, wanders up and down the
streets of his native village, unknown
and unrecognized and in melancholy
and forsaken but subdued tones
murmers, "and are we thus so soon
forgot, when we are dead ?"
Enchanted by the beauty of the
surrounding scenery and lured by the
sweet consciousness Of being in the
presence of these noble heroes, the
gallant leaders of the chivalrous south,
your correspondent would fain nave
fingered longer in this beautiful, hal
lowed spot, but our "Campagnon de
voyage broke i'll upon our reverie
as softly approaching with our surry
he babe us mount our seat.
An elegant dinner at the Phoenix
rounded off with the most delicious
fruits and ices, and we were speeding
our way up Main street TO Ashland,
the old home Of the grand old states
man and patriot, upon whose remains,
in Lexington cemetery, we had just
turned our backs.
Hating in front Of the artistic
training stable, We were met at the
threshold by the royal Col. h. Z,
Mcdowell, the present owner of Ash>
land as well as Of Dictator, the sire
of Jay Eye See, Phalas, Director and
of King Rene.
The stud of Col. Mcdowell is not
So extensive in numbers as some, Tut
his animals are very chuice aud Sc
lect aud as his boys, on Shetland po-
MES, chased some of his young things /
4