The National tribune., 1900-03-22


dote and story. He has left
this record OF one night when Forrest was
the toast and star" of the night. He says:
forrest was in royal condition. He
came early and stayed late. he seemed
prepared to make everybody happy. He
needed no solicitation to display his varied
stories of wit. of humor, and of information;
sketches Of foreign travel; photographs of
Southern manners, alike of master and
slave; his celebrated French criticism upon
ShakSpere; hisimitation Of the old clergy
man of South Carolina, who, deaf himself,
believed everybody else to be 50; his thrill
ing account Of his meeting with Edward
Kean at Albany, when Forrest was vag;
his meeting Lafayette at Richmond in 1926,
and for the first time to Washington au-
dience his recitation of THE Idiot Boy"
What royal feasts these nights were to
the initiated, with Forrest, the inimitable;
the imagery Of George w. Barton; the wit
of George d. Prentice; the ready rhetoric
and Irish enthusiasm of James L. Brady;
the art-history of Elliott, and the sea le-
gends of Hunter. No marvel is it that
they have become household words, not
withstanding the flowers and verdure of
TIE .ol)iIIlS tlIut nave DiOSSOlucO ttDosc TIC
graves of these men.
Some of the men who used to congregate
in The old Washington House, when the
clouds of war hung over the Capital, stood
by the old flag and all it meant; others took
their fortune with the South. Circumstance
often is the inexorable controller of con-
science. Many Confederate would have
been Union man had he lived North; and
many Northern man, had his home been
in the South, would have staked his fortune
| there.
We look back upon that supreme moment
| when these men, who had spent happy
hours and days together in this house.
came to the parting of the ways, and we
wonder IL 1t was not quite as hard, the
| breaking asunder of these strong social
ties, as the political separation that took
place on the floor Of Congress, stones
throw away2
The last time we have any record Of the
occupation Of room in the Mills House
! by John w. Forney was on Memorial
Day, 1871. Ten years before he had parted
with the old comrades with whom he had
spent those memorable evenings. Every
man had taken up his burden as he saw
his duty, and the day had come for count
ing the cost Of the conflict The loss of
tens of thousands of lives and the friend
ships of thousands more, the heartaches of
Nation, and the broken hearts Of those
who mourned and refused to be comforted
are weighed in the balance against the loss
| by fire and sword and an empty treasury
And the old man sits by the open window
of his room in the Mills House and looks
over into the sacred grounds Of Arlington,
where 10000 soldiers sleep their last sleep,
and silently sentinel the Capital they
saved" And he asks, Where were We all
the goth Of May. 1852"
Ten years before Robert E. Lee was in
! his home in Arlington House. lie had
that day reluctantly rendered his sword
that bore no tarnish, to his State. but not
his country.
Ten years before. Abraham Lincoln,
Stonewall Jackson, Stephen a Douglas,
James Buchanan. Howell Cobb, Lewis
Cass, and Owen Lovejoy were all living
They were all, those days, solving the mys-
teries of another life, and 300. 900 more
fathers, sons, brothers-only lived to see
the dim vision of united country which
is ours to-day.
| ho iooAeu iouu ms WiHuoW, ana he
heard the guns laundering over the graves
at Arlington that covered heroes who died
for their country.
We can well imagine what thoughts
enveloped this man as he sat there alone
looking through the dark green foliage
at the stately pillars Of Arlington, over
there on the hills of Virginia. His COM
rades scattered; no familiar grasp of the