The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1907-11-07
The Passing of the Gray u

streets old and feeble mana soldier of the
"Lost Cause Gray hairs had taken the place of
once raven locks and times effacing fingers had
obliterated the strong lines of a once handsome
face, leaving mass OF wrinkles, but the kindly
eyes were yet undimmed and in his breast beat a
heart OF gold. His step was slow and uncertain,
for time and nature had almost done their part,
though his mind, which still alert and active,
was rich with the memories of Bull Run, Spottsyl-
yania, Charlottesville and Gettysburg struggles
almost superhuman-som filled with the wild yell
of victory, others with the stifled sigh of defeat
He was thinking of these when young man
grasped his hand and said: elbow are you, Uncle
John? l am glad to see you out again. "Ah, my
boy" exclaimed the old man, putting both hands
on the boys shoulders, cit is good to see the son
Of comrade, it is good to feel the honest grip of
your young hand, and it is good to look into face
that reflects your fathers bravery and your
mothers beauty His face had grown strangely
tender and the blue eyes were soft like velvet.
elbow are the old folks, Frank, are they we'll and
happy?" But before the boy could reply the win
dow Of nearby cottage had been thrown open and
through it came the notes of music. The old mans
granddaughter was singing, "Down Where the
Cotton Blossoms Crow A Southern song and in
its music the poetry and dream Of the South-the
sweetness and simplicity Of its bringing back
to him the memory of long ago. Suddenly the
music changed to grand and sweeping chord of
"Dixie'' that seemed to fill the very atmosphere
with it's thrilling and exultant rapture. The old
taller by inches. It was like "Call to Arms
The landscape before him became field DER which
contending hosts were clashing; chocolate clouds
of SMOKE Ua hidiner no md
the shell-swept field Of Manassas he and his gallant
comrades were driving the blue before them. The
scene changed, and at Charlottesville he saw
Jackson silent and cold in his last sleep. The
music grew fainter, and he was beside Pickett
charging a network of Notifications with which
human valor could not cope The music ceased,
and Appomattox became field of fate.
The boy looked into the old mans face with a
feeling of reverence. Never before had the per
sonality of the old soldier grown on him in such
way. Never before had he felt what it was to be
the son of Confederate veteren and heritor of
land shaped and fashioned by such people,
"My boy,'' said the old man, 'syou must pardon
my indulgence in that revery, but it was so like
the long ago. Your father and l have fought side
by side listening to that song when it's words were
young and our thoughts were of victory or death.
they all well, else you would not be here with
me and my foolish fancies; but won't you come
around sometime and read to me, Frank? Your
voice is young and clear and love to sit for hours
and listen. Bring that romance of the Rappahan-
mock, Surrey, of Eagles Nest 1t is always new
to me. All! but there are grand people in that
book. Do you know that saw the real May Bev-
erly once? 1t was during the fall of 'e2. Col.
/ l,cl a.
his way with dispatches for Pelham. May stood by
a column of her home watching her brave soldier
riding toward the Blue Ridge, where Pelham's
guns were then laundering at the 'Gap.' She was
the queenlest woman in all Virginia. And those
were thrilling times, Frank. My love to the old
folks, and don't forget to come some tme.''
The old soldier plodded his way down the street.
The boy watched him with feeling of affectionate
pity and, removing his cap, exclaimed, 'May God
Almighty temper the wind to the shorn amb.''
A few mornings later the boy passed up the walk
leading to the old soldiers home, in his hand was
the volume Of John Esten Cook. Obedient to the
request, he had come to read of Surrey. But
certain stiffness seemed to nger about the place.
The curtains were drawn, and large shaggy dog
approached him with look of piteous appeal in
his honest eyes, walked by his side to the steps,
lay down and whined. young girl, she who had
played ''Dixie," met him at the door. ssOh!
Frank" she cried: looking up into his face,
"grandfather fell asleep this morning, but he left
message for you,' and making a brave effort to
control her voice, she repeated the old man.
words: "Tell Frank to love the South as the
country of his soul; and that from those princi-
pies which she strove to uphold she has nothing
detract; that higher power than mans was
brought to judge, and coming generations, stripped
of ali hatred and prejudice, will remove from his
tory's pages every SANDER and sarcasm that has
been hurled in her face. That on the wondrous
vista of times future horizon will shine the Souths
splendid record like an eloquent witness proclaim
ing to the world the unequaled fidelity, integrity
and chivalry Of her people, and that around the
battle-scarred Confederate flag is wreathed the
admiration of the world Taking him by the
hand, she led him into the presence Of the dead.
There he lay with smile of peace on his face,
above his head hung sabre with silver hilt and a
carbine with straps and buckles-his sacred relics
/ of many hard fought battle. Carefully spread
out the counterpart at his side was faded suit
of gray; on the collar were three shining stars and
on the front of the hat were three golden letters
&c. S. A.'' W.P.A.
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