Spirit of Jefferson. [volume] (Charles Town, Va. [W. Va.]) 1844-1948, 1897-06-29

Slavery was dead. but magnihcentin the
gloom of defeat. he was still master.
Has he not mastc red adversity2 Has he
not rebuilt the ruined South?
Look wonder at those flashing domes
and glittering spires; look at the works
of art and all the fabrics and pictured
tapestries of beauties. Look what South
ern brains and Southern hands have
wrought. See the victories of peace we
have won, all represented within the
white columns of OUR great industrial Ex-
position, and you will receive an inspira-
ton of the old South, and you will catch
glimpses of future glory.
1 trust in God that the struggles of the
future will be the struggles of peace and
not of war The hand of secession will
never be lifted up again. The danger to
the republic now lies in the mailed hand
of centralized power, and the South will
yet be the bulwark of American liberty.
If you ask me why, l answer, it is the
only section left which is purely Ameri-
can; answer that anarchy cannot live
ON Southern soil; answer that the
South has started on a new line of march,
and while we love the past for its pre-
cious memories, our faces are turned to-
wards the morning.
Time has furled the battle flags and
smelted the hostile gun, Time has torn
down the forts, and leveled the trenches
and rifle-pits on the bloody field of glory,
where courage and high-born chivalry on
prancius chargers once rode to the front
with shinmering epaulets and bright
swords cleaning where thousands of
charging bayonets at uniform angles re-
flected thousands of suns, where the
shrill fife screamed. and the kettle-drum
timed the heavy tramp, tramp of the
shining battalions, as the infantry de-
ployed into battle line and disappeared
in the seething waves of smoke and
fame-where double-shotted batteries
unlimbered on the bristling edge and
hurled fiery vomit into the faces of the
reeling columns-where 10000 drawn
sabres flashed, and 10000 cavalty how
cred for moment on the flank and then
rushed to the dreadful revelry.
The curtain dropped long ago upon
these mournful scenes of carnage, and
time has beautified and comforted and
healed until there is nothing left of war
but graves and garlands, and monu-
ments, and veterans and precious memo
ries
Blow, bugler, blow but thy shrillest
notes can never again call the matches
armies of Grant and Lee to the carnival
of death.
Let the silver trumpets sound the jubi-
lee of peace. Let the veterans shout who
wore the blue. Let them kiss the silken
folds of the gorgeous ensign of the re-
public and fling it to the breeze and sing
the national hymn.
Let the veterans bow who wore the
gray, and with uncovered heads salute
the national flag. 1t is the flag of the in.
separable Union Let them clasp hands
with the brave men who wore the blue,
and rejoice with them, for time hath
adorned the ruined South and robed heI
fields in richer harvests and gilded he1
skies with brighter stars of hope.
But who will scorn or hown to see the
veterans of the Souths shattered armies
scattered now like solitary oaks in the
midst of fallen forest, hoary with age
and covered with scars, sometimes put
on the old worn and faded gray and un.
furl for little while that other banner,
the riddled and blood-stained stars and
bars, to look upon it and weep over it,
and press it to their bosoms; for it is hal.
lowed with recollections tender as the
soldiers last farewell
They followed it amid the earthquake
throes of Shiloh, where Albert Sydney
Johnson died; they followed it amid the
floods of living fire at Charlottesville,
where Stonewall Jackson fell; they saw
it fiutter in the gloom of the Wilderness,
where the angry divisions and corps
rushed upon each other and clinched and
fell and rolled together in the bloody
mire. They rallied around it at Gettys-
burg, where it waved above the bayonets,
mixed and crossed on those dread heights
of destiny; they saw its faded color
fiaunt defiance for the last time at Apo
mattox, and then go down forever in a
flood of tears
Then who will upbraid them if they
sometimes bring it to light, sanctified and
glorifed as it is by the blood and tears of
the past, and wave it again in the air,
and sing once more their old war songs
when these heads arc white with glory,
I,aF u1,ol lNuc frpT fha Nncf
Lcngthen us you tell your story,
III the vet'ran's ward of rest
May no ingrate's word of sneering
Reach one heart of all the brave,
But may honor. praise and cheering,
Guard old valor to the grave"
Gov. Taylor brought down the house,
or rather brought the old soldiers to their
feet with shouts of approval, when he
sang in low. melodious voice the words
of Dixie"
The speech all the way through was
punctuated with applause and cheers,
and when Gov. Taylor concluded the
whole audience gave him regular ova-
ton
Judge John II. Reagan, of Texas de-
livered the annual address, an able effort,
worthy of the distinguished speaker, the
last surviving member of the Confederate
cabinet
Tuesday evening reception was given
by the Nashville Daughters of the Con-
federacy to the sponsors and maids of
honor, at the capitol building. Mrs.
Fraley, of Nashville, sang the " Bonnie
Blue Flag" and " Dixie" and the old