The Hartford herald. [volume] (Hartford, Ky.) 1875-1926, 1908-06-17


hands were Joined in fellowship, and
on, of the ashes and ruin of your des-
olated country has arisen this beautiful
New South, rich in rs material pos
sessions, but richer far in the blood
that flows in the veins of its sons and
daughters, who draw their inspiration
from your heroic mold.
The great conflict, in which you
lost, settled the question of human
slavery upon earch forever, but left
us to grapple with a greater and more
serious problem.
1t is my belief that The different
sections of the country are becoming
better acquainted with each other, and
5hac they are coming TO sympathize
with us more and more in our task of
dealing rightly with the question
which they put upon us, and thar they
are disposed to recognize the wis
dom of non-interference with us in
the solution of rhe perplexing prob
lem.
What the outcome will be, no man
can safely prophesy, but that the road
to its sorrect solution lies through
the public school system, the wisest
thought of the Nation seems dispos-
ed to agree; for intelligence is a
safer arbitrator than ignorance. Our
duty lies in straining every nerve,
putting forth every effort, to free the
youth of this Nation of every creed
and color, from the darkness of igno-
rance. In the light of knowledge.
lies the only hope of the Nation, and
the South will be found doing it's full
duty in assisting to dispel that dark
ness.
The South lost all save honor. But
the Confederate soldier, the purest
and proudest type of the Anglo-Sax-
on race, stood erect amid it's charred
and blackened ruins. The earth was
red beneath him, the sky was black
above him, his sword was broken, his
country was crushed. But without a
throne, he was no less a ruler; his
palace had persisted, he was no less
a king. Slavery was dead; but mag
niflcent in the gloom of defeat, he
was still master. Has he not mas
tered adversely? Has he not built
the New South? 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 fields of glory, where cour-
age and high-born chivalry on pranc-
ing chargers once rode to the front
with shimmering epaulets and bright
swords cleaning; where thousands OF
charging bayonets, at uniform angles,
reflected thousand of suns; where ten
thousand drawn sabers flashed and ten
] thousand cavalry lowered for a mo-
mem, on the flank and then rushed
to the dreadful revelry. The curtain
dropped long ago upon these mourn
full 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
memories. Blow, bubler, blow; but thy
shrillest notes can never again call
the matchless armies of Gran, and
Lee 10 the carnival of death! Lee,
the silver trumpets sound the jubilee
of peace. Let the veterans shout who
wore the blue. Let them kiss the silk
en- folds of the gorgeous ensign of
the Republic and fling it 70 the breeze
and sing the national hymn. And,
you, dear old veterans, who wore
the gray, bow with uncovered heads
and salu,e the national flag. 1t is
the flag of the insepaIable Union.
But, who will scorn or frown to see
the veterans of the Sou1h's shattered
armies sometimes put on the old worn
ana faded gray and unfurl for a little
while the other banner, the riddled
and blood-s.ained Stars and Bars, to
look upon it and weep over IL. Then,
who will upbraid them, when they
followed it amid the earthquake
throes OF Shiloh; chey followed Ii
through the floods of living fire a,
Charlottesville; they rallied around
it at Gettysburg; they saw Its faded
color flaunt defiance for the last time
at AppomattOx, and then go down
forever in flood of tears; then, ]
say, who will upbraid them If they
sometimes bring IL 10 light, sancti-
fled and glorified as it is by the blood
and tears of :he past, and wave it
again in the air and sing once more
their old war songs?
When these heads are white with