Souvenir

PU POA PON Nee

ee A SPOS

oP... SOUVENIR

ag ae pa
—. & Prayer and a Benediction
Pe as AT THE et

~ GRAND REUNION OF THE
.- BLUE AND. THE GRAY

ON THE FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY
OF THE BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG.
nd Other Poe
Bi | a a sg a, a
COMRADE CAPT. JACK CRAWFORD , ?

A PRAYER AND A BENEDICTION
at the
Grand Reunion of the Blue and the hee on the
Fiftieth Anniversary of the Battle of Gettysburg —
by .
COMRADE CAPT. JACK CRAWFORD,
The Poet Scout, and Original Boy Scout

Almighty, exalted, Commander-in-Chief,

Dear Father, all wise, of the Blue and the Gray
The Old Guard is here—’tis the last grand relief

Of comrades and brothers who muster today.
And if from the heavenly ramparts above

Old Abe and brave Stonewall can look down they'll see
The great transformation of hate into love;

’Tis what they all prayed for, Grant, Logan and Lee.

And while our great nation is thankful today
For our glorious salvation, while counting the cost,
There’s a tie that is binding the Blue and the Gray
In the heroic army of braves that we lost.
Tho’ lost, we in reverence cherish each name,
And are eager to tell of the deeds they have done,
While in Northland and Southland their glory and fame
Are pictured and told in the battles they won.

Half a century has passed, and we muster today
But a thin line of boys that we mustered of yore,
And millions rejoice that the Blue and the Gray
Are united beneath the old banner once more.
And we who survived, who returned from the fight,
Would ask Thee, commander above once again,
To watch here our actions, that we in thy sight
May show that our comrades did not die in vain.

Dear comrades and brothers, the widow is here,
The mother, the sister, in prayerful mood,
They come with a wreath and a memory dear
For the grave of the loved ones who here shed their
blood.
[2]
Southern Pamphlets
Rare Book Collection
UNC-Chapel Hill

|

ay

+ io
+ 3

The sons and the daughters of Gray and of Diue
Are here with our bright-eyed grandchildren today,
They met since the conflict—to meet was to woo, 3
And to win; Cupid captured the Blue and the Gray.

God pity the hand that would strive to suppress
The growing affection that comes with the years;
May it live in its glory and never grow less
As our thin rank the shore of eternity nears,
Raise your thoughts towards heaven, my brothers in Gray,
And in hallowed fancy a picture you'll see,
Looking down upon us from the bright realms today
Are Lincoln and Jackson, Grant, Sherman and Lee.
Se Se ae ae A

And now, as beneath dear old Glory we gather,
Inspired by the eyes of those heroes above,

Let this be our slogan, our motto, dear Father;
Fraternity, Charity, Loyalty, Love. |

Inspire with Thy blessing our love for each other,
Keep us ever beneath Thy most merciful ken,

And strengthen the love ties as brother meets brother
Thru our few years remaining on earth-soil, Amen.

WITH SURVIVORS BLUE AND GRAY
IN THE GETTYSBURG CEMETERY

After fifty years, July Ist, 1913.
By Capt. Jack Crawford, The Poet Scout

O, hallowed ground; Deep hidden in thy breast

In dreamless slumber in eternal rest,

A silent army lies, who at high flood

Of war sealed their devotion with their blood.
Here where a drama rife with death was staged,
Where battle in ungoverned fury raged,

Lies all that’s mortal of heroic braves

Who strove with comrades to drive back the waves -

[3]
600469

That sought to crush the living wall that rose
Between their country’s life and desp’rate foes.
In heat of battle in the deadly fray te
They gave no thought to loved ones far away, oa
Thought not of home and its endearing charms;:
Their only thought that strength be given their a
To stay in its onrushing, maddening course .
The flood of almost overpowering force

That sought to sweep them back. As barricade
They stood undaunted, fearless, undismayed, _
In drifting clouds of stifling battle smoke, ——
While screaming shells in fury ’round them broke. :
And leaden balls, as hissing snakes, flew past
As hailstones driven by a tempest blast.

These lying here at rest were doomed to fall
And lie as fragments broken from the wall
That in defiance met the furious flood z
And beat it back, its wake besmeared with blood. *
Here let them rest, the nation’s honored dead, ;
’In tombs with flowers of memory o’erspread;
In consecrated ground, made doubly blest

By golden tribute from a man possessed:

Of soul that glowed with sympathetic love -
For all mankind; one who from realms above
May now look down upon this sacred spot
And bless the transformation peace has wrought
The immortal Lincoln. Joyful tears may rise
From hidden fountains of his kindly eyes

To see the Blue and Gray as brothers stand, |
Heart closely linked to heart, hand clasped in hand,
Beneath a flag above their heads unfurled

That holds the admiration of the world.

And when at last our earthly work is done
Oh, God of Grant and Lee and Washington, —
May love of God and country still increase |
With Justice and the Truth—“Let Us Have Peac

Bee
oe
Ss

[4]

AT GETTYSBURG, 50TH ANNIVERSARY
‘Hello There, Johnnie!”
By JOHNNIE CRAWF ORD, ‘Captain Jack’”’

Hello, there, Johnnie, Howdy do?
Glad to have a shake with you—
Glad to meet you, whole lot more
Than I was in days o’ yore
When the Yankee an’ Confed
On the field was swappin’ lead,
When we met then, me an’ you.
*Twasn’t with a “Howdy-do”:?

Or a cheery-like “Hello,”

With an outstretched hand, Ah, no.

- Met with guns a-spittin’ lead,

_ Feet ’most tangled ‘mongst the dead,
Eyes ’most scorched with battle fire,
Faces Satan would admire, ©
Yells a-mixin’ with the air
Nuff to raise a dead man’s hair,
Bullets flyin’ thick as hail
In a furious summer gale,

Shells a-singin’ songs that we
Didn’t hear with no degree
Of intoxicated joy .
In our brave souls. Eh, ol’ boy?
Mebbe it was me that sent
Out a chunk o’ lead hell bent
Causin’ that ol’ wooden peg
Where you ust to wear a leg
~Mebbe musket in your grip
Downed me with a shattered hip
Giving me a cause fur sayin’
Things that didn’t sound like prayin’,
Well ol’ boy, I’m glad we've met;

Put ’er there again; you bet
If a foreign foe should dare
To insult that ol’ flag there,

[5]

Tho’ we’re oldish, me an’ you
’d try to beat each other to
Anything t’d shoot an’ light

Out a-spillin’ fur a fight

Keen as when we worked a gun
’Gainst each other. Eh, ol” son?

HOOD’S CHILDREN

TO MY COMRADES — BROTHERS OF THE BLUE AND GRAY,
i
AT THE REUNION AT GETTYSBURG, JULY, 1913

Thirty-four years ago, while breakfasting in a San Fran-
cisco hotel with Tom Keene the famed actor and ex-union
soldier then leading man at the California Theatre in San
Francisco, he handed me a morning paper which he had
been reading, and with moisture in his eyes said:—

“Jack, there is something that will, I know, touch a tender

spot in your sympathetic heart. Read it.”

It was the telegraphic story of the death of Ex-Confed-
erate General John B. Hood and his devoted wife, who had
fallen victims of the dread scourge, yellow fever, at New
Orleans, leaving eleven orphaned children. That same even-

ing I attended a meeting of Lincoln Post of the Grand

Army of the Republic as a visiting comrade, and when “the
good of the order” was reached in the ritualistic work I was
called upon to address the meeting. I read the Hood story,
and then said in substance that when Lee tendered his sword
to Grant at Appomattox the war was over with all good
soldiers north and south, and if Lincoln Post wanted to do
a great patriotic act and would co-operate with me I would
get up a benefit for the orphaned children of our late enemy
and would guarantee to raise from $500 to $1,000 for the
destitute ones. Without any objection the suggestion was
unanimously concurred in and a committee, consisting of
Comrades C. Mason Kinnie and Col. Lyon, was appointed to
aid me in the charitable work. After the meeting the com-
mittee and myself looked up Col. Flourney, an Ex-Confed-
erate officer, and he gladly joined us.
The next day we visited the Baldwin Theatre, where James
O’Neil and his dramatic company were playing an engage-

ment, and found the company on the stage at a rehearsal. -

Acting as spokesman for the committee I told Mr. O’Neil
the story of Hood’s children and asked if he and his com-
pany would not donate their services at a performance for
the benefit of the orphans. Without a moment’s hesitation
he replied:

“Yes, two benefits if necessary.”

Then turning to his company he asked, “What say you,

ladies and gentlemen?”

[6]

Rose Coghlan was the first to speak, and in that fine
dramatic voice of hers she said—‘I will give my services
with all my heart.”

Louis Morrison, C. B. Bishop, Lou and Alice Harrison,
Nina Varion and all the lesser lights of the company fol-
lowed, each voicing his or her willingness to contribute to
the aid of the children.

On the afternoon of the evening before the benefit, I
was informed by the committee that I must make a speech
before the curtain at the performance. I demurred, saying
I was not an orator, and then Col. Flourney ordered me to
my room under guard, and I was to be held there until I
had written a poem worthy of, and to be read by myself
on the occasion. A few hours later, I was on the stage
facing an immense audience, telling the story and reciting
the poem, Tom Keene holding my manuscript to prompt
me if I should “fall down.”

I am proud of the fact that I was able to bring about.
that great benefit, proud of the fact that in the preliminary
work was perhaps seen the first Fraternal reunion of the
Blue and the Gray, and I feel that this incident will be a
fitting story to be told at our great reunion at Gettysburg
the coming year; the Blue and the Gray under one flag—
Old Glory. The poem is here given:

*

Dear comrades and friends in the Golden land
You may say I’m rough, you may call me wild,
But I have a heart and a willing hand,

To feel and to work for a soldier’s child.
Do you think I ask on which side he fought
If man and soldier his record was good?
For, tho’ our Union was dearly bought,

All hatred is buried with Hooker and Hood.

And comrades, I'll tell you right here to-night,
The men most bitter against the Gray,

Are the men who never were seen in a fight,
But who always got sick on a fighting day.

[7]

But with soldiers, my friends, it is not so,

They respect each other, the Gray and the Blue, .
Nor are they ashamed that the world should know ©
How they stood by their colors, brave men and true.

Was Jackson ashamed when he knelt to pray

For the cause which he believed before Heaven was just,
While marching his half-starved boys in Gray |
On an ear of corn, and a single crust?

Was Lee ashamed when he tendered his sword

To Grant, who refused the warrior’s steel,

Who said “Your horses shall be restored

For braver never wore spurs to heel”?

Oh, generous hearts in the Golden State

You are forging the links of a Union chain,

That will cable one end at the Golden Gate,

And will circle the States to the gulf swept main.
A chain that will bind us, the Blue and the Gray,
In a umion of purpose that God will approve,

In love that grows strong in adversity’s day,

And in hearts that will stand by the flag we all love.

The past, it is dead, but we cannot forget it,

And comrades, we wouldn’t forget if we could,
And as for myself, I shall never regret it,

This poor little service I render for Hood.

His loved ones will not be distressed nor discarded,
And tonight I am proud of a share in the stock,
T shall feel as a soldier, I’m fully rewarded,

By one little prayer from his innocent flock.

[8] .

One little prayer from the loved ones we foster,

His latest bequest to his comrades in peace,

While the pale hand of death wrote his name on the

roster,

And the angel on guard gave his spirit release.

Dear comrades, let charity’s mantle enfold them,

Old Abe had no malice, no hate in his. soul,

On the ramparts above let us hope to behold them,

as Washington musters each name on the roll.

Fraternally yours,

JOHN WALLACE CRAWFORD,

Capt. Jack,”

| OLD GLORY
: Gettysburg Fiftieth Anniversary

O, beautiful emblem of Liberty’s tree!

Dear Star spangled gem, of the land of the free!

I love thee, old glory, with love that is true,

And as pure as the stars in thy heavenly blue,

There’s no flag like my flag, there’s no flag like thine,

My countrymen, comrades, and‘brothers of mine.

_’Tis kissed by the breezes, by angels carressed,

Beloved by the North, by the South, East and West.

*Tis striped like the rainbow, like rays of the sun,

When daylight is fading and morning is young,

And each brilliant star, shooting out when unfurled,

Sends flashes of hope to the oppressed of the world.
Capt. JACK CRAWFORD. |

A SUNSHINE BOOMERANG
When a bit of sunshine hits ye
After passin’ of a cloud,
When a fit of laughter gits ye’
An’ ye’r spine is feelin’ proud,
Don’t fergit to up and fling it
mh At a soul that’s feelin’ blue,
“lor the minit that ye sling it
Its a Beene to you.
ay Se haiave xe et

b

[9]

WHAR THE HAND O’ GOD IS SEEN

Do I like the city, stranger? ’Tisn’t likely that I would;

‘Tisn’t likely that a ranger from the border ever could

Git accustomed to the flurry an’ the loud unearthly
noise— 7

Everybody in a hurry, men an’ wimmin, gals an’ boys,

All a rushin’ like the nation ’mid the rumble an’ the jar,

Jes’ as if their souls’ salvation hung upon their gittin’
thar.

Like it? No. I love to wander
*Mid the vales an’ mountains green,
In the border land out yonder,
Whar’ the hand o’ God is seen.

Nothin’ here but bricks an’ mortar, towerin’ overhead

so high )

That you never see a quarter o’ the overhangin’ sky,

Not a tree or grassy medder, not a runnin’ brook in
sight,

Nothin’ but the buildins’ shadder makin’ gloom of
Heaven’s light.

F’en the birds are all imported from away acrost the
sea—

Faces meet me all distorted with the hand of misery.

Like it? No. I love to wander |
’Mid the vales an’ mountains green,
In the border land out yonder,
Whar’ the hand o’ God is seen.

[10]

eS. a a a T,

Roarin’ railroad trains above you, streets by workmen
all defaced,
Everybody tryin’ to shove you in the gutter in their
haste.
Cars an’ carts an’ wagons rumblin’ through the streets
with deafen’n’ roar,
Drivers yellin’, swearin’, grumblin’, jes’ like imps from
Sheol’s shore;
Factories jinin’ in the chorus, helpin’ eae the din to
swell;
Auctioneers in tones sonorous, lying ‘bout the goods
they sell.
Like it? No. I love to wander
"Mid the vales an’ mountains green,
In the border land out yonder,
Whar’ the hand o’ God is seen.

Yes, I love the Western border; pine trees wavin’ in the
ain, | a

Rocks piled up in rough disorder, birds a-singin’ every-
where;

Deer a playin’ in their gladness, elks a feedin’ in the
glen; |
Not a trace o’ pain or sadness campin’ on the trail 0”

‘men. |
Brooks o’ crystal clearness flowin’ o’er the rocks, an’
lovely flowers
In their tinted beauty growin’ in ane mountain dells an’
| bowers.

Fairer picture the Creator
Never threw on earthly screen,
Than this lovely home o’ Natur’
Whar the hand o’ God is seen.

[11]

Dol Tike yoor, home Caftand al ats, hkely shat

rt ba

‘Cause its the kind that ha when Jer we
Tin Bec fmol & most to = ate i‘ avodies &
Which TI slip into your Stockin’ th ray pay Wall
Ant 1 hope youll under stand ihand the Ws ber Too
With Your pone - book batt ar pe 25 8 e equal the Book
ee 2 fto,I fou rather,
abe Knew hye you mean
oe "gee 3 about ary country
e hand S SOD )s. 5 Seth

For Tue hex 5 inthe y. since the day that was | born,
Botcthe "pe GOD in hi ie ref ar brdche Sane Ye

“To depict jn a dif oo ea WAY OU

Tha, way shat Se x ses th ab Shale! rs

rete ee : wh oe se ae er aerate reat Sia

of A-PpIc - oh Yodr pome- Chih And mo very whar Tf”
Lik ete o, t love love, t rhe ¢ (
And Hps Kr. just. W aot! mean
iiken J 1 say its inthe mithd o Yhaon ‘
“The Ha OD (5 Seen.

[12]

SLEEP, SOLDIER, SLEEP!

A MEMORIAL DAY SONG

Sleep, soldier, sleep! Thy warfare is o’er,
War’s dread alarums ‘shall wake thee no more;
Sleep, calmly sleep, ‘neath the flowery sod,
Waiting the reveille sounded from God.

Over thy resting-place bright flowers we twine,
Gratitude’s emblems on loyalty’s shrine.

Fruits of thy valor we gratefully reap:

Union and Liberty—Sleep, sleep, sleep.

CHORUS

Beautiful flowers of spring
- Loving hands hither bring,
Sacred thy memory ever we'll keep,
Sweetly and peacefully sleep, sleep, sleep.

Rest, soldier, rest! Thy peace thou hast earned
On the red fields where the battle fires burned;
Rest, sweetly rest, for a-weary wert thou

Winning the laurels which circled thy brow.
Soon will the trumpeter wake thee again,
Sounding Assembly on Heaven’s bright plain;
There with thy comrades in realms of the blest,
Through all eternity, rest, sweet rest.

CHORUS

Beautiful flowers of spring

Loving hands hither bring,
Sacred thy memory ever we'll keep,
rectly and peacefully sleep, sleep, sleep.

[13] ;

Yours,

In clouds or sunshine,

TO MY FRIENDS—GREETING

In presenting this revised and enlarged edition of my
poems, I feel it to be a duty to express my heartfelt
thanks to all who purchased copies of the first edition,
and especially to the good friends who ordered auto-
graphed copies directly from me. In nearly four hun-
dred books of the first edition of one thousand copies I
wrote an original verse, or verses, and from among those
who secured the autographed copies I have received
over a hundred letters, of which the following may be
taken as a sample:
eyo Vear Jack:

“A thousand dollars could not tempt me to part with your
delightful book and the two charming verses on the fly leaf.
It will be a valuable souvenir to my children and to theirs.
Find enclosed my check for. $4.50, for which please send au-
tographed copies to (names of friends).

“A. S. BURT, Brig. Gen., U. S. A., Retired.
> Washington, D. C., Jan. 3, 1911.” |

Having added a number of poems to this edition,
among which is my “Toast To Woman,” I am hoping
that many of my friends will order copies. While I can-
not write verses and attach my autograph to all copies
ordered, I shall take pleasure in autographing every book
ordered through me.

I now own the plates from which the former book was
printed, as well as the copyright, and hence am able to
quote a much lower rate per copy than formerly. The
cost of the book, bound in cloth, gold stamped, will be
but One Dollar. Address all orders to

Captain JACK CRAWFORD,
56 West 104th Street, New York.

NOTE

The following poems have been tadded and will be found
in the back part of the book:

“Scouting for Shadow- “The Gift of Song.”

graphs.” “Satisfied.”
“Hood’s Children” (a story “The Sunshine State.”
and a poem). Patsy Ueas ite Gate
“For Ninety Years.” “A Toast to Woman” (by
“Lincoln’s One Hundredth special request).
Anniversary.” US ae

[15]

~~ Bae

| The Mew Dork Lpeeum Bureau

— §20. 56 Wiest 104th Street, New Bork S

Desires to call the especial attention of managers
and committees to the fact that it has exclusive control

of the time of

Capt. Jack Crawford, “The Poshaaaaaee

The most original, most versatile and magnetic entertainer on the American —
platform ; the man who inspires his audiences with the golden sunshine of his —
optimistic nature.
We have made of this truly wonderful son of the breezy West a

_special feature for Chautauquas, Lyceum Courses, Progress-

ive Clubs, Boy Scouts, Y.M.C. A.’s and all Fraternal

Organizations desiring a Unique Entertainment.

Capt. Jack’s life history stands forth as a thrilling chapter in the annals of —
American manhood. Committees applying direct will be given the very best pos-
sible terms. As a course opener he has no single-handed superior and often draws _
more money at the door than pays his fee, aside from the advance sale of season —
or single tickets. The success of the season often depends upon a good opening —

attraction. ;
Here is the Very Best Possible Illustration, One of the Latest Voluntary Credentials
Petrolia, Pa., 3, 28, 13.
New York Lyceum Bureau —
* Gentlemen: Capt.. Jack
Wycrawtiord, “The Poet Scout,’
appeared here Friday eve-
ning, February 28th, to the
largest Lyceum audience in
the history of the course, .
drawing $69.55 door sales, in
addition to the regular sea-
son ticket holders. — Paik
' We have immediately
booked Capt. Jack for a re-
turn date the evening of”
Memorial Day, when we ex-
pect an audience of the ca-
pacity of the house.
Sincerely yours,
PETROLIA LECTURE
COURSE COMMITTEE, .
C. R. Dougherty, Secretary.

NOTE—The new and en-
larged edition of Captain
Jack’s book, ‘“‘Where The
Hand O’ God Is Seen,” is aff
the press. The price has
been reduced from $1.50 to
$1.00, despite the fact that
the book is much larger.
All who desire an auto-
graphed copy will receive
same, postpaid, by ordering
direct from this office. ;
E. L. COX, Manager,

56 West 104th St., N. Y.

A GREAT CHRISTMAS PRESENT

softs Na Te [16]