The sea coast echo. [volume] (Bay Saint Louis, Miss.) 1892-current, 1898-11-19
Eyes Own Corner.
Conducted by the ladies of Bay St. Louis.
.Fiome, sweet Home.

sex who occasionally have ideas
and like to give the world the be
nefit of them, and who have il
their literary repertoires gems OF
thought from other minds may
now present these to the readers
of The Echo, under the Woman
Column.
/ Since woman is the center oi
the home life we may well choose
for our watchword sFor the
Home," using this noble word in
its broadest sense. Let it include
not mine and thine only, but every
body's home. 1t has been well
said that ''the true home keeper
must be in touch with humanity. "
| We have chosen short account
of the sweetest song of our CEN
tury to illustrate our watehword
and show that all the worlds akin.
Nations have songs which they
claim as their own, and which are
held sacred because of historic*or
patriotic associations, but "Home,
Sweet Home," belongs to the
world. Thousands, happy in
welded relations, or aliens in
foreign lands, who never knew
that John Howard Payne was a
noted dramatist and actor, the
acquaintance of Charles Lamb,
Tom Moore, Sir Walter Scott, and
Washington Irving, have sung
with trembling lips and fearful
eyes this heart and home song
OF a poet who was himself a
homeless wanderer,-a lover, but
never a husband.
The claim that "Home, Sweet
Home," was written at Tunis, or
in London garret, seems to have
no foundation in fact. Over half
a century ago, George w. .Talburtt,
then a young man, and the boon
companion of Payne, owned a
large plantation, lying just across
the east branch of the Potomac
from Washington. The old home
still stands, as it stood then, in an
Eden bower on the bank of the
river. Here, under a venerable
chestnut-tree, sitting on rustic
seat, the two friends would sing
and talk of the lives they would
lead. Talburtt had promised Pay
ne that whenever he wanted a
| home. it should be built on the
plantation, and they would spend
their bachelor lives together.
, Much of the old plantationis now
within the modern suburban viii
lagesof Anacostia. Here, on a
spot selected by the poet, stands
the house, now owned and occupi-
ed by Mr.. Ell. A. Griswold, built
in fulfilment of this promise. But
Mr.. Payne never returned from
his foreign mission to enjoy
the home of which he sang,
and Mr.. Talburtt afterward mar
and himself occupied the new
| house.
1t was on the rustic seat under
the chestnut-tree, on the bank of
the east branch of the Potomac j,
that Payne drafted this immortal
composition.
The original manuscript, in the
handwriting his own interlineation
is still in the possession of the fa-
miIy, Mr.. Talburtt having died in
1865. The rustic seat, held as a
precious heirloom; and the chest
nut-tree, now partly dead, still
marks the birthplace of the song.
The song enriched all who had
any connection with it, except the
poet himself, who sold it for f30.
The publishers are said to have
made 1000 guineas within two
years. It is certain that 100000
copies were sold in 1928.
| When the Cherokee Indians
were removed from their homes in
Georgia to their possessions west
of the Mississippi, Payne was visi-
ting his friend, John Ross, chief
of the Cherokees. Several Chero-
KEGS were in prison, and the
county was full of Georgia militia.
! Ross and Payne were arrested
in a hut to which they had fed,
and taken away on horseback.
They journeyed all night through
the rain. About midnight Payne's
escort, to keep awake, sang,
Home, Sweet home.''
SLittle did I ever expect to
hear that song under such circum-
listances, remarked Payne gloom
lily.
81 reckon not! But it's a good
song to make a fellow think of
the home he's left behind him. .
eyes," said Payne. ssDo you
know who wrote that song?'
"No, do you?" the soldier ans
wered.
"Yes," replied Payne. | wrote
it."
ga lot you did!" returned the
soldier sarcastically. 'sYou can
| tell that to some fellows, but not
to me. Look here: if you made
that song-and know you didn't
you can say every word of it.
Now start inland reel it off, or I'll
bounce you from your horse, and
lead you instead of him.
Payne answered the threat by
repeating the words of the song
in a slow and subdued tone, and
then sang it, making the old
woods ring with the tender melody
and pathos of the words.
| As the last notes died away the
soldier said kindly: "If ye didn't
write it, ye can sing it. And gra-
cious, I believe ye did write it'll"
| He added that the man who
could write such a song and sing