PS w^-b 3ci Irittains Poems COMPOSED BY COLONEL L J. BRITTAIN 424 MAPLE STREET, WINSTON-SALEM, N. C. READER : I am an old, disabled Confederate veteran. I will keep these books in stock. Never lend them, but refer inquirers to me. I. J. BRITTAIN. PRICE : By Mail, 25 CENTS COPYRIGHTED, I9I7, BY I. J. BRITTAIN, WINSTON-SALEM, N. C. g)Cl.A490Hn7 t-i- /(3 -C^^^ ^ The Wonders of the Present Age I have been tempted imicli of late To write at least a page Upon some works of recent date, The wonders of the age. We ill an age of wonders live, Wherein the skill of man Seems an impulcian to receive And do what mortal can. In fourteen hundred brave Guttenburg Invented types of wood. He thought the harm that art might cause Would be overcome with good. Now we have colleges and schools. Which number hundreds and more And flourish under better rules Than ever known before. The truckles, carts and sleds once drawn By oxen through the mud Are out of use, forgot and gone Like things before the flood. Steamships ride on the stormy main, Steamboats on rivers ply. And locomotives o'er the plain With greater swiftness fly. We daily hear the humming sound. The ringing of the car.' , Within a few miles of your own ground On trails of iron bars. The steam let through a copper horn Produces a thrilled sound, And on the gentle breezes borne Is heard for miles around. We sometimes hear it at our homes. Resounding upon the air, Its object is the hogs and cows From of? the track to scare. Though many a cow is doomed to feel The locomotive's weight; And hogs have scarcely time to squeal Before it is too late. And yet no farmer loses more Than balances his gain. For higher prices than before Are paid for pork and grain. Through every State and every chme They have their railroads done, And twenty minutes it will take Each fifteen miles to run. And forty cents for each fifteen The passenger must pay, And have a pleasant ride between The depot and the way. I now will try my rustic muse On the magnetic wires. That Morse contrived to carry news Wherever man desires. The word is sent as quick as thought, Upon some lightning's speed. What bank is broke, what rogue is caught. What swindler still succeeds. I said full forty years ago That it was not unfair To say in less than fifty years We would navigate the air. A new invention Bill has made, That's now within our homes, Composed of drums and copper wite. And called it telephone. The electric shock is a monster power. We feel it more and more. It chased and captured both cross and white Beyond the Canadian shore. It is like other gifts of God, Produces life and death. And brings forth crops through earth and sod ; We breathe it in every breath. For other things it now is used. We see it every hour; The machinery all over the land Is run by electric motor power. We have fine factories way up North, With ease they weave and spin. Full half their honor is due the South And Whitney's cotton gin. The farmers of the present day Will never be content Unless they have the best of seed And farming implements. 3 The ladies in their humble sphere To have their minds serene. To have the best cooking range And Singer sewing machine. The quality of all our crops Is held in high repute There is nothing that excells them all Like luscious nursery fruit. Old fogey traits and ignorance We see are bound to go, I am glad we live when it's no disgrace For a girl to have a beau. We have (ine colleges where deaf and blind Are taught to read and write, They expand their minds and serve their God Without the use of sight. The tallow candle is past and gone, The gas lamp took its flight, We substitute great kerosene And the tlectric light. The locomotive wends its way Upon two iron bars, By the help of electricity we ride The trolley cars. The old farm wagon trudges on, The dude will ride his wheel. The gentry of the present day Will ride the automobile. While on my tour through the West The deep wells I often pass. And found the towns and farmers' homes Lit up by natural gas: Inventions now are being made. They're going fore and aft. There's nothing has surprised the world Like Kdison's phonograph. Though many wonders have been done Beneath this Southern sky. And a perpetual motion run The fools will ever try. The Christian world indulges in war, They make the cannon fog; The devil he invented this And apple brandy grog. In all the works of human art Old Satan claims a share, But in creation had no part, For God himself was there. Of all inventions man has made In these our latter days Sure all our reverence should be paid By giving God the praise. Recollections of Cornwallis' Encamp- ment at Dixon's Mill, Chatham Co., North Carolina, .AD. i78i,by Simon Dixon. It was March, the '2'2d day, That here the Brittish army lay. Still covered with the bloody stains That Greene gave them on old Guilford's plains. Toward evening when the toils were done, A father thus addressed his son: Now go with thy Cousin John, Take all the horses from the barn. A mile or two they took them forth. And loosing them they turned back North, Whence was the way that they had come, And with the bridle started home. When presently there came in view- Three hundred horsemen dressed in blue, When these boys they had espied They called and said: Those bridles hide; The red coats are about your home, And you they'll t^ke your horses from. Admonished thus ihey crossed a bog. And hid the bridlt-s under an old log. And now they see from ot^' the hill What does their mind vxith wonder till. One seldom such a sight enjoys As burst asudden on these boys. A string of long lines of red co.'Us stream- ing on, Their arms all glittering in the svui. While o'er thtir heads and waving high The British colors proiidly fly. The rolling drums ami screainiag life To the grand scene jkIc! a new life, They trail along like branchless vines, Three thousand men in two long lines. They rise and fall and sweep around As bends the road or lies the ground. The curves and waves together bend. And to the scene enchantment lend. It seems to them a mighty flood Comes rolling on to where they stood, While still further back beyond Where trees and hills flank the mill pond. Wagons and horses, men, move up behind. Their flags all fluttering in the wind. They halt, and now make a stand. And having each location scanned, Prepare to camp upon the hill That stretches Northward from the mill. Now as the host o'erspreads the plain A band of horsemen came down the lane. Whose epaulets and caps and swords Proclaim them all officer Lords, Arrived at the mansion where they stopped And nimbly from their horses popped. They ordered out the landlord's spouse And took possession of the house. With this gay crowd fwo horses came, Bearing along a wooden frame. One in the rear, one in the van, And on it lay a wounded man, An I'tfictr of high rank, Whose blood old Guilford's soil had drank. In mark'd contrast he now appears To his gay brother officers. ^'l-t scarce a week has passed away Smce that tf) him eventful day Colonel Webster led his comrades on, Where charging hosts made blood rim down, And his fate is only sad to tell, One of the three thousand nu-n who fell. The hill now groans beneath the tramp Of thousands fixing up their camp. They chose for it the forest scene, A promising wheatfield clothed in green. That which had been the farmer's pride 'Neath martial feet is now destioyed, A common fate wherever war's trained Is now let loose by wicked men. To ruin all they had desires, So took the rails to build their fires, And to build a spacious pen That night to keep their cattle in. Of which they took full many a score, And slaughtered here but eighty-four, As Cornwallis lay in the big stone house It was here that gold, Simon's spouse, After the family went doivn the hill To take refuge in the old Fulmo mill, She thought to take the solace of a smoke. What old woman wouldn't under such a joke? But disappointment was her lot. She found she had her pipe forgot, And though it was amoi'g her foes To regain it up she goes. As fhe stepped into the yard. True at his post the watchful guard Presents his bayonet with tiger's gripe Forbids to get even her old pipe. She spoke, her words were overheard. His lordship protnptly interfered, And granted what she" did invoke The privilege to take a smoke. Close to the race above the mill, In the form of a sweet potato hill, They stacked their arms upo the ground. The muzzles u"p, the butts were down. The soldiers around their arms did Hock, Each musket mounted on its own flint lock. A lad draws nigh to view them here. He is noticed by a guardsman near. Who, as he looks, addressed him thus: Where is General Greene, the rebel cuss? When they had gotten their goods all packed, Went to the mill its contents to ransack. Seized all the corn, meal, likewise fine flour, Would have taken m>)re if it had been there. See, what a fine lot of grain we have found, A mill to grind it, explained all 'round. Ho! Ho! Where's the miller? their leader did cry. He looked, no millei' could his eyes espy. Said: Let out the water on the old wheel. And pour up the grain, we'll soon have fine meal. None seemed overpowered to put forth the hand. And two or three times he urged the com- mand. Their business had been to fight and to kill, They knew ne.xt to nothing about tending a mill. At length one is found to come up to the scratch. He poured the corn in the hopper and step- ped to the hatch. For, unlike the Dutchman, his stones all dull, He never or.ce thought to take more toll. For some time on the wheel the water had flowed. Yet moving around no sign had it showed. When their appearance was known He, stopping the mill, let the lightning staff down, Letting both stones come entirely together. Now the runner was held hard and fast by the other. Draw up the hatch, let on some more water. The hatch is clear up, what can be the matter? Now a bunch of red coats, as it still did not move. Seized hold of the arms to give it a shove. Others stepped on the side where the waters did flow, And thought by their strength they might force it to go. They pushed, shoved and shouldered and hollered. But still Which brought many a curse on the rebel old mill. The Irish, with their oaths, kept up a terrible clatter, English, Scotch and Welsh kept up a terri- ble chatter, But still the mill stood fast in its pride, And all the rash oaths still stood and defied. While over and around them its weapons it plied, Threw mud and cold water on this and on that side, For over half an hour their memories did try, The thing is sure bewitched, some, half cred- ulous, did cry. Now the sun had sunk down in the West, And the English cockades began to lower their crest. They looked at each other, said: "Give up, we must." .So the proud lion dropped his tail in the dust. America's proud eagle flaps his wings at the story. For the British succumb, and the old mill got the glory. They gave up the contest, and proclaimed aloud They had not a miller in all that whole crowd. And it may be said of the battle of Di.xon's Mill, Their foes blood in rain English armies did spill. They were forced to make more use of their legs Than they did when they fought the Battle of the Kegs. BY I. J. K. Cornwallis was cut to pieces To fight he thought 'twas no use He left all his wounded Under a flag of truce. The Ouakers all assembled And saw where they had bled, . They all look compassion And buried his dead. He was harrassed on all sides. He could not be still; He made his next encampment At Captain Bell's mill. He told Mrs. Bell then He had annihilated Green, No more (•( the Continentals Would ever again be seen. Her husband at that time Was nowhere to be seen: She told him he was in the service Of General Nathaniel Greene. But in a few days he talked more free; He said: Another such a victory will annihi- late me. He had had a drawn battle, no victory was won, Although he had captured two or three of Greene's guns. Greene sent him a flag, Old Nat got warm. He told him he could have four more guns at the very same terms; At this bold assertion Cornwallis took fright; He retreated from Bell's Mill that evening and night. He had scarcely gone and drawn in his guards. Before Colonel Washington reined up his horse in Mrs. Bell's yard. He told her she must have some excuse to resort And go to Cornwallis and bring a report, She mounted her horse, never counting the cost. And soon she was in the midst of Cornwallis' host, Her commands they were stern, she would not be bluffed, She told him his soldiers had stolen a part of her stuff. She sat on her horse, she had a keen eye. She thought that now would be a good time to spy. She noticed the distance covered by his stacks of guns: Colonel Washington could count his men almost down to one. Next morning he retreated across a long ridge, He crossed over Deep River on a temporary bridge, He got over safely and then he soon found It would be a wise policy to cut the bridge down. He forwarded his army, they marched to right oblique. His next stopping place was down at Cross Creek. He stopped and rested two days at will, The name of the place is now Fayetteville. He started for Wilmington, and as he march- ed down Colonel Webster died, and was buried at Elizabethtown. The British were gloomy, they said it looked bad, They said at the funeral Corn wallis looked sad. He marched on to Wilmington, by Moore's battle field, He expected he himself would, too, have to yield. He and Sir Peter Parker were in the Cape Pear Expecting a victory from the Scotch soldiers to hear. But General Moore and Dick Gaswell some- how slipped in between, (The Scotch soldiers thought that terribly mean, ) They formed a line of battle, their charge it was bold, They captured General McDonald and all of his gold. Cornwallis and Admiral Parker heard of their defeat. They stretched their sails and made a hasty retreat ; They went to Fort Moultrie to take it pell meli; Colonel Moulttie sent them flying with solid shot and with shell. II We'll go back to Moore's Creek battlefield, Where Scotch soldiers fared hard; This battle was fought the 10th of February, Before Independence was declared. The Regulators threw off the foreign yoke of oppression, Made Governor Tryon see fun. They fought a hard battle at Alamance, In Seventeen seventy-one. The State was in rebellion. But they somehow contrived To declare their independence In Seventeen seventy-five. The British said the North Carolinians Were all a hard lot, Particularly Major White With his gunpowder plot. For pure patriotism they had no lack, They sent a copy of their Independence to Philadelphia by Captain Jack. William Hooper and Thomas Jefferson got the matter ti.ved And declared a general Independence 4th of July, '76. We'll go back to Moore's Creek and see if Cornwallis will beg. Oh. no! he's formed a junction with Major James Craig. Who procured munitions and rations, and slowly marched on. The people of Wilmington were glad he was gone. He had no mishaps until he got to the Neuse, \V'^here he met Colonel .Slocum with his cav- alry troops. He found in North Carolina was no place to see fun, And there he abandoned one of Gen Greene's guns. It was captured at Guilford, had come all the rounds, (It is now mounted in victory in Guilforct Battle grounds ) 12 He marched into Halifax to replenish his stock; He was harassed on all sides by Col. Locke. The ladies of Halifax did him much provoke, He took his shattered army and crossed the Roanoke, And just above Richmond he met LaFayette, Who gave him "Hail, Columbia," and don't you forget. LaFayette retreated and did some good work ! He lead him into the Peninsula at Little ^'ork, Cornwallis expected the British fleet, but lo. they were French, Which caused his Lordship to dig him a trench. Surrounded by Washington he maneuvered many ways. But had to surrender in a very few days. The news of this victory soon spread far and wide Lord Fairfax, at Winchester, he fell back and died. Washington's brave couriers would never refuse To go out in every direction to tell the good r I v\ s. General Clinton at New ^'ork repaired to his 1 . i IS And soon our country was clear of the Red C ( ;iis King George, in despair, did yield up the contest. Now, student, read history; it will tell you the rest. I The Patriotic Ladies I know I am a woman. For we will all respond, For we all are patriotic, We will buy up Liberty Bonds. For we are left alone, all alone, We are patriotic American women, And we are not ashamed. We throw in our little mites To help out Uncle Sam. For we are left alone, all alone. My sweetheart told me of the Ger- mans, And how their bullets hiss: He laid his arm around me And gave me the good-bye kiss. C/tonis Our boys are patriotic. Determined to be free; They are descendants of the gallant men Who marched with ("leneral Lee. Chorus Our boys are in the trenches. Their sweethearts to defend; They will give them H^iil, Columbia, Ui.til this cruel war shall end. Chorus S )ine of them are low in stature, And some are very tall; They are the Blue Hen's chickens, And can face the cannon ball. Choncs They all are patriotic. The truth to you I'll tell; They'll form a line of battle And give the rebel yell. Chorus M They will give them nitroglycerine bombs, And make them face about, And double quick to Germany, To live on sourkraut. C/ioriis They'll go over there in airplanes. Their property they vviO burn. They'll humble the wicked Germans, And then they will return. Chorus We'll join our right hands together, And take the name of theirs; We'll knit our hearts together. And then we'll have no fears. Chorus We will have a hnppy country; Her banner is unfurled, Her Flag and Constitution Are the oldest in the world. Chorus Our Constitution gives us liberty. It has been amended fifteen times, It's worthy of song and story. Of poetry and of rhyme. Chorus We'll cry out for our country, We'll do that with everv breath: In the language of Patrick Henry: " Give me liberty or give me death' ' . Chorus Now, patriotic maidens, With your sweethearts correspond. And rally to their rescue. And buy a Liberty Bond. Cho} us Our old veterans are patriotic I know we would be free, If they could only march to Germany Under the command of General Lee. Chortis '5 The Ways of the World Some people boldly take their stand, Move corner stones, steal neighbors' lanil, They live by thievery at their ease And sneak around and cut down line trees. Their neiglibors' land they do adore. They will slip further o'er and hack a few- more. They never take the Bible for a stand That says cursed is he that stealeth land. But they will tell poor sinners of an awful hell, Not dreaming that they will get a smell, And all poor sinners they will deride And say: Behold! we are sanctified. They skip around and have their glee. Like Zaccheus of old they will climb a tree, And there they will take the Saviour in, And say: Behold! we cannot sin. The Lord will let them have their fun. He has said in His Word there is none good, not one, And if they make Him out a liar There is danger of hellfire. You know we are all here on probation. And have the promise of damnation; There are other people we do not admire That oppress the laborer in his hire. They will swindle when they buy or sell And preach poor sinners down to hell. The category of sins is deemed the worst. But remember the extortioner conieth first; To own the world is their whole desire; They, too, have the promise of hellfire. In half the families we find a flaw, Represented by Jacob and Esau. Esau mu;t drudge and carry the billet And Jakey he must sop up the skillet. The pious will say this should not remain; The truth is blamed but never shamed. Now take this home for all I care, The cap that tils you sure must wear. i6 I have observed these things from early youth. Reader, this is the naked truth. This subject is well diagnosed, Such evils ought to be exposed. The young will think and ponder then Be better women and better men. They will give such vices an awful blow. And ever, ever scorn to stoop that low. My readers will think that I am tough Because I treat the world so rough; For conscience bids me not to shrink. But utter boldly what I think. Let Christian people be more refined. And by their good works let their light shine. We know he is a darling toy Because he s mother's little boy. You know it has always been the rule To make a dog of mother's fool. Now parents to you the truth I'll tell, You need not do anything more to get to h . I know my readers will be disposed To know by whom this was composed; It was composed and closely written By no one in the world but I. J. Brittain. White Oak Mills (Y.inkee Doodle l The old White Oak Tree of no renown, It stood here all alone. Its friends were few and far between Until it met with Caesar Cone. Thou hast been here two hundred years. And saw the Indian roam; No woodman's axe shall e'er thee touch. For this shall be my home. And on thy mission strong and brave, A-waving to and fro, Thou wilt be firmly standing here When death has laid me low. 17 The time will come when thou wilt fall And never have a pain. And thcHi wilt crumble and decay, And I will rise again. The old Professor in his muse. He thought of brick and sills; I will perpetuate thy name By building White Oak Mills. A giant factory I will build, And ship my cloth in rolls. And thy good name my trade mark be, Shall go from Pole to Pole. The Northern people made a rush To build up cotton mills; The morning whistles now are heard, And echo through the hills. The Lord decreed that we should work, And earn our daily bread. In his great wisdom sent them here, • For his people to be fed. Proximity was the pioneer, We saw her people thrive, And other niifls have since been built, And now they number five. The owners of those cotton mills Will foster enterprise; The Draper looms insert their quills And yet they have no eyes. While walking through the cotton mills, We see the spindles whirl, And all this noise would soon be hushed But for those pretty girls. We knew this place in auld lang syne. It then was termed hard scramble; But brighter days are dawning now, They came with Robert Campbell. Now, rural folks, I pray take heed, Have a respect for those. Who earn their bread by honest toil. You know they make your clothes. i8 Your bleachings and your other clothes, Your stockings and your frills, Are made by people of noble worth, The products of the mills. A Tan Bark Peeling Captain Southerland is enterprising, He is making his mark; He has a gang of hoboes A peeling Tan Bark. We are all in fine spirits, And are now doing well; We are gentlemen boarders At the Mountain Hotel. Our quarters are cozy, We have all complete, With Aunt Sal for cook, And plenty to eat. We have fancy bread and flavors, Potatoes and stew, White sugar, good coffee, And sasengers, too. We have our romps And pastimes. Sometimes run a race, Reflecting that labor is not a disgrace. The dude may talk politics And sit in the shade. But he has to come to his Uncle Ike To learn how leather is made. It is a poor subject But my rustic muse Has teased me to sing about Leather and shoes, Until I have concluded It might be the best To humor her In such a simple request. You know all the leather Is first in raw hides. And all the large skins Are cut into sides. 19 And yet every side Has two o( its own. As unlike in texture As cloth and whalebone. The whole of the process It is needless to state, You know upper-leather Is not sold by weight. But sole-leather is And always Left thick With all the bark on that chances to stick. The Tanner and the Curriers To please a vain taste Must dress down the leather To a scandalous waste. Yet Ladies and Dandies Like thin shoes so well, The leather must suit them In order to sell. The thicker for men folks We think would be right, While the thinest for women Is always too light. Thousands die of consumption From the corsets they use, Yet thousands more take it By wearing thin shoes. Next comes the shoemaker, Who makes it still worse, And with the thin leather Increases the curse. The last should be nearly As broad as the foot, With instep and measure Proportioned to suit. And let every Dude Who has a sore toe, Tell where the shoe pinches. If he's sense to know. And all the shoemakers Should ever refuse To put such rotten shavings In leather and shoes. Composed by the Author for Cigarette Factory The Lord in His wisdom Commands us to work, His promise: No bread To the man that will shirk. We are working for Reynolds, Surely we'll win, The gate will fly open. And we will march in. Our girls they are happy, They never do fret, They sit at their tables And prepare Camel Cigarettes. Now this is the truth And no idle joke, They are not made to chew. But most excellent to smoke. Thanksgiving will come, Now, girls, never fear. It will be around to see us In November, each year. Then you can get married ' And none need to fret; You can have a turkey dinner And smoke Camel Cigarettes. Mr. Reynolds calls his hands his people. Some have been here quite a whet; They put up millions of packages Of Camel Cigarettes. Our smokers praise their flavor. They will not condescend To smoke any other brand But the Turkish blend. When the writer was a boy Winston was nowhere. They had a courthouse and a jail. And a nigger was living here. But now she's rich and powerful. Her banner is unfurled. The progress of Winston Salem Is surprising to all the world. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS