The Birmingham age-herald., 1917-05-31
News of Society and
 Activities of W0nn@m By

i helped to make the name of Forrest a l terror to his enemies, and gained fol him the sobriquet of the Wizard of the Saddle. Comrade Crutcher. come for ward. As color bearer for Forests l Veteran Scouts l have the honor as | well as pleasure to place in your keeping this beanutiful battle flag, given as a free-will offering from the whole state of Tennessee as a tribute to the valor of Forrest and the men who followed him. Father Ryan, the poet priest of the south said in that beautiful poem, The Conquered Banner Furl that flag, for | it is weary, and round it's staff is droop- ing dreary; furl it, fold it, let it rest,
 PROUD FLAG.
 But l say
 ''Furl that flag! No, never! Don't lay
 it away.
 The bonnie blue flag that waved OCT the
 gray;
 But shake out its bright folds and give
 it full play
 In the breeze that kisses the south of today.
 For it was their pride and their glory
 to bear it on high
 Midst death dealing shells that illumined
 the sky,
 And the tattered and torn and rent in the
 fray.
 They still love it and cherish it-these
 old soldiers in gray
 It's record is clean, not a blot on it's
 name,
 Though it floated OCT fields where thou
 sands were slain
 Then why should we furl it, we sons of
 the South,
 When our fathers bequeathed it at the
 cannon's red mouth. Proud emblem of storm-cradled nation
 fell,
 The bonnie blue flag that rode the crest
 wave of hell?
 Then let us not furl and suily its name By folding and hiding it's bright colors
 in shame.
 No, don't furl it. let it wave, aye,
 proudly wave
 In the land of the free. the home of the
 brave"
 MT. speaker. there are two things of which I am proud. One is I am Tennesseean to the manner born. The other is that I was a Confederate sol dier and followed the matchless Forrest. My father before me was a soldier, IS was his father, and fathers father, dating back through all the wars to the revolution. Proud of my ancestry and proud of my native state, the grand old Volunteer State, whose sons lie buried on every field of battle where duty called and war was waged. Proud monuments to her chivalry and all honor to her noble dead. The Confectionery rose, born In the hope of a proud, chivalrous and liberty loving people. It struggled, it fell, and the flag of the south was furled to be un- rolled to the breeze no more forever. Yet be 1t said to the everlasting credit of grand old Tennessee, kthat while the flag did wave. she furnished one-sixth of all the soldiers to the southern army to de- fend it. And while I would not de- tract one iota from the fame and glory of any of her brave sons, nor pluck one single feather from the proud plume of any of her gallant leaders, and she had many, the brightest blade thar flashed from it's scabbard during those four years of blood and carnage and waved always in the forefront of the battle, was the one wielded by Nathan Bedford Forrest. Born within the con fines of my own native county of Bed ford, and for which he was named, of humble parentage, without the advan- tages of an education, and knowing ab- solutely nothing of the science of war. Behold him now, meteor-like he flashed along the horizon of battle and burst i'll the full splendor of his martial ardor, the greatest cavalry leader the world ever knew, and I will spurn the history and curse the historian who will write in his lines treason and traitor to such men as Forrest and those who followed him.
 Gentlemen, let me again thank you for this beautiful battle flag and allow me to wish that 1t may continue to wave long after the last ex-Confederate SOL