The watchman and southron. [volume] (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, 1902-09-03

again it was assigned to Fatner Ryan.
The Veteran was likewise corrected
and, in another issue, admitted the
error. presume the copy from which
you quoted is either one or the other
of those two, for I note that in quot
ing you say grand memoriam
strain. which is a mistake Of the
above named publications, as recall.
No such line occurred in the original
| butt ss grand memnonian strain," from
Memnon, sphynx-like, mysterious.
It is not vanity alone that urges me
to have this correction made. 1t IS
surely honor enough that my poor
lines, the wrath that my heart wove IN
those sad days (the spring Of 1865 to
lay on graves of our heroic dead,
should find place in so high an occa-
sion as memorial to Hampton and in
your EXQUISITE eulogy, but ever since
February or March, '66, when The
Phantom Host'' was written, the lines
have been known by many of my
friends as written me and / cannot
afford to have their faith in my probity
shaken.
Unfortunately this question of au-
thorship only arose after the death of
Father Ryan. who never laid claim to
it, {orI have been deceived in the
MANI, but it was likely the thought OF
some jealous, but hasty friend OF his,
because Father Ryan wrote war poems.
It was not, therefore, a Catholic
priest who wrote the lines you quoted,
bat priest of the Holy Catholic
Church, not priest of the Holy Ro-
man, but Of the Anglican church, who
begs to subscribe himself,
Yours gratefully,
Peronenaa Dawes Hay.
Col. j. A. Hoyt, Greenville, S. G.
In addition TO this letter from Mr.
Hay and by the, same mail we recelv-
| ed communication from Prof. Chas.
J. Colcock, of the Porter Military
Academy, Charleston, who is spending
his vacation at Hayville, Barnweu
County, in which he gives full his
tory of The Phantom Host" and its
literary yicissitudes SO far as author
ship is concerned. We have already
used some of the facts supplied by Mr..
Colcock in the Introductory para
graphs of this article, and would like
to print his entire letter, but limited
space forbids and we will be COM
PEELED to make only few extracts, as
follows:
1t is strange how persistently the
authorship of this poem is attributed
to Father Ryan, despite the correc-
tions which some friends of its author
always make; and it proves how true
is the saying, It is easy to speak, but
impossible to recall what has been
spoken. =
At some 6 reunion" speaker once
stated he did not know the author of
the lines, but thought they had been
written BY Father Ryan. being, he
said, probably one of his latest pieces
and SO never published in his book.
Although this piece had been read at
previous reunions and the authorship
referred to Mr.. Hay, and although
these lines had been published in the
Confederate Veteran, and credit given
to its true author, and although they
had been printed in 1860 in the Sum
ter Watchman over the name OF
| Errol.,o yet this speculation of the
speaker was Immediately converted
Into certainty by his audience. From
that period to the present each year
the mistake is repeated, so that it be-
comes necessary for Mr.. Hays friends
to do what is possible toward correct
ing the mistake in ascribing the
Phantom Host'' to poet who al
ready wears many jewels in his crown
and many roses in his garland, thus
not needing the addition Of one rob-
bed from another's.
Now I have mentioned and even re-
| peated these facts believing You viii
be glad to remedy, so far as possible,
the injustice unintentionally done Mr..
Hay by referring to his inspired COM
position as the production of Father
Ryan. also send you a.copy of the
poem, and shall be glad if you have it
inserted in the paper in which this
| correction is made, and beg that you
| will have copy sent me.
We are indebted to Prof. Colcock
for corrected version of The Phan-
tom Host, - and doubtless one that
has the approval of its author, which
is given herewith:
My form was wrapped in slumber,
I s1udb StSoiS 1IOln tuO AOo1o AoS 1oAOo3
For my very life was weary
With its barren waste of years;
| But my soul, with rapid pinions,
Fled swift to the light that beams
From phantom sun and planets,
For the dreamer in his dreams.
| stood in wondrous woodland,
Where the sunlight nestled sweet
| In the cups of snowy lilies
Which grew about my feet:
| And while the forest arches
Stirred gently with the air,
The lilies underneath them
Swung their censers, pale in prayer.
stood amazed and wondering,
And grand naemnonian strain
Came sweeping through the forest,
| And died; then rose again.
It swelled in solemn measure,
Till my soul, in comfort blest,
Sank down among the lilies
| With folded wings tc rest.
Then to that mystic music,
4 Sc ell