November Twenty-Eighth
The cruel fire that singed her robe died out in rainbow flashes,
And bright her silvery sandals shone above the hissing ashes!
Organization of Legislature in Carolina Hall after the election of General Hampton as Governor of South Carolina, 1876
November Twenty-Ninth
My fellow-people, let me, in conclusion, congratulate you on having a Governor once more as is a Governor. Oh, there is life in the old land yet, and by and by we’ll transport them black Republicans into the African desert, and put ’em to teaching Hottentots the right of suffrage. Winter Davis could then find a field of labor sufficient for the miserable remnant of his declining years. He is the winter of our discontent, and we want to get rid of him.
Bill Arp
(On Hampton’s Election)
November Thirtieth
Yon marble minstrel’s voiceless stone
In deathless song shall tell,
When many a vanquished age hath flown,
The story how ye fell;
Nor wreck, nor change, nor winter’s blight,
Nor Time’s remorseless doom,
Shall dim one ray of glory’s light
That gilds your deathless tomb.
Theodore O’Hara
(From “The Bivouac of the Dead”)
General Patrick R. Cleburne killed at Franklin, Tenn., 1864