The herald and news. [volume] (Newberry S.C.) 1903-1937, 1909-09-14
COL. JAMES T. BACON.
Feeling Tribute to Gallant Gentle
man and Helper of the
Helpless.

''No earthly clinging,
No lingering gaze,
No strife at parting.
No sore amaze;
But sweetly. gently,
He passed away
From the worlds dim twilight
TO endless day.
1t is hard for Edgeheld to realize
that Col. James T. Bacon, the loved,
the admired, the benefactor Of all, has
passed away
Only a few days since. as he lay
on his bed of suffering, he gazed low
ingly into the eyes of his sister, who
was dearer to him than aught else on
earth, and said, with deepest feelng:
''You and | have gone hand in hand
through the deep Red Sea, but now I
leave you to 90 out alone into the
great beyond.'
In the peaceful grave they have laid
him to rest-in the village cemetery,
near his sainted mother, Mrs. Sarah
Agnes Wigfall, who died a few years
ago, and close beside the resting place
of his grandmother. 1t seemed like
giving him back to the arms that had
cradled and caressed him. He never
wesried speaking of their love and
goodness to him. His face would
soften, his voice tremble, when he re-
corded incidents Of boyhood's days,
and his great love and devotion to
these noble women. Not as the wit,
not as the journalist, not as the bril-
liant editor, will the memory Of James
T. Bacon linger longest in the village
to which he gave his life, but as the
helper of the helpless, the comforter
of the afflicted, the uplifter Of the
deSolate. the support Of the needy, the
widow, the fatherless. In his whole
career there was no thought Of self,
only Of what he could give or do TOR
others.
When sojourning a few years ago
in Europe. surrounded by wealth and
adulation, his letters home all breath
ed Of loving devotion and yearnlng
to shield them from care and trouble.
His amusing letters, written to The
News and Courier, describing New
York subway, his ocean voyage, his
observations Of Europeans, scintilated
with a freshness and originality pc
culiarly bis own, a quality lacking in
many world renowned humorists. The
editor Of a New York daily copied an
article written by Mr.. Bacon, describ-
ing party in Edgefeld and added :
"The person who wrote that piece
ought to leave the small village OF
Edgefeld and come to New York,
where he would make a fortune. y His
European letters always brought
tears of laughter to the eyes OF the
readers. The same mail would bring
a letter with a foreign stamp to the
home folks-so full Of pathos-of
"reminiscences, to join the dear circle
that its pages would be blotted with
tears.
Artistic in every sense, Mr.. Bacon
had a passion for music. He had
studied in Germany under famous
masters; his technique was thorough,
his execution faultless. He played
with the expression Of one to whom
music was a souls prayer.
One of his chief pleasures was gar
dening. His lilies and carnations
were beautiful, but his roses were like
the little children he petted apd
gathered around him, the loveliest ever
seen. Among them he seemed like a
loving, dreaming boy; no traces OF
age or suffering lined his brow, when
looking into the fair innocent faces
of Gods Children.
A man with his talents, his genius,
could have gone into the big world
and carried all immortal name for
himself on the tower Of fame, but his
deep love for his own people made 1t
impossible for him to leave Edgeheld.
He is sleeping now with the flow
ers he loved so we'll above him, but
his spirit will live forever in the
hearts of those who knew him.
s'Can toried Urn or animated bust
Pooly. ~ ;+S mansion call the Heet-