As the hope of a further heaven, that lights all our dim lives through.
Before the war, Newport had been a favorite resort for Southerners. During the summer of 1861 a number were still there, and it must be confessed some of them behaved with very little tact. According to reports current at the time, these individuals carried politics inside the church doors. When the prayer for the President of the United States was read, they arose from their knees in order to show their disapproval. At its conclusion they again knelt. Women would draw aside the voluminous skirts then in fashion, to prevent their coming in contact with the United States flag. I have always fancied that the lines in “The Flag,”
Salute the flag in its virtue, or pass on where others rule,
were inspired by this behavior of “The Secesh,” as we then called them. Some of these persons, although belonging to good society, had the bad taste to boast in our presence of how the South was going to “whip” the North. At a certain picnic among the Paradise Rocks, my mother resolved to give these people a lesson in patriotism. One of our number, a quiet, elderly lady, was selected to act as America, the queen of the occasion. She was crowned with flowers, and we all saluted her with patriotic songs.
“The First Martyr” tells the story of a visit to the wife of John Brown before the latter’s execution:
My five-years’ darling, on my knee,
Chattered and toyed and laughed with me;
“Now tell me, mother mine,” quoth she,
“Where you went i’ the afternoon.”
“Alas! my pretty little life,