) F 215 ■ B883 Copy 1 THE NEW SOUTH By JOSEPH Gr. BROWN, PRESIDEINT CITIZENS NATIONAL BANK, Raleigh, N. C. THE NEW SOUTH ADDRESS DELIVERED AT THE CONVENTION OF THE AMERICAN BANKERS' ASSOCIATION AT NEW ORLEANS November n, 1902 By Joseph Gf Brown, PRESIDENT CITIZENS NATIONAL BANK, RALEIGH, N. C. RALEIGH, N. C. Edwards & Broughton, Printers and Binders 1902 V 215 .change i dvereity L 1 2 1933 THE NEW SOUTH. In the long life of the great lawgiver of Israel there were three eventful periods. The first of these covered that portion of his life which was spent amid the luxuri- ous surroundings of an Egyptian court, as the adopted son of royalty. The second began when he chose to be loyal and true to his own people, and with them to endure poverty and want, rather than remain the petted son of the king's daughter and enjoy all the pleasures that wealth and power could give. This epoch in his life was one of loneliness and privation, as well as one of preparation for the great life work to which he had been called. The third and last period was spent in the service of his people, leading them out of bondage, guiding them through the wilderness, strengthening their faith and their courage, and inciting them to noble lives, by which they would be fitted for the enjoyment of that land which God had promised to their fathers. In like manner, the life of the people of the South may be divided into three distinct periods, almost parallel in their nature with the unique career of Israel's leader. Prior to the civil war our Southern land, although sparsely populated, was the home of culture and refine- ment. With thousands of slaves to cultivate their broad acres, our people lived in ease and plenty. But the war came, like a besom of destruction, carrying blight and devastation in its path, tearing down homes, laying waste the (owns, destroying the young manhood and reducing to want and penury the women of the land. Then came the long-to-be-remembered days, following the close of the war. May we not with propriety call 4 The New South. (his the resurrection period? For all that contributed to the peace and prosperity of the Southland was dead save the spirit of her people. There is a law of nature that out of death comes life. The grain of corn is buried in the earth, and from its dying mass there comes lite new shoot, the new blade, the new stalk which bears the new fruit. So, out of the dead Confederacy came the new life, the new energy, the new spirit that gives to me the topic for this occasion. If I could wield the brush of an artist as best illustrating these three periods 1 would spread on the canvas before your eyes three parallel pictures. First, that of the old plantation home. The "great house," as it was called, stands yonder upon its lofty hill — a great house in fact, with its many rooms, its spacious halls, its broad verandas, all betokening the rich hospitality that was so graciously dispensed. In front of the house, along the foot of the sloping lawn, sluggishly flows the beautiful river. Be- hind the house and beyond the barns and stables, are a hundred neat cabins, with the little negro children play- ing about the doors, their cheerful mothers and older sisters bustling about inside, or keeping time in song to the music of the spinning-wheel; while, in the broad fields beyond, the fathers are tilling the ground. In the evening time, just as the reflected rays of the setting- sun are making glorious the banks of clouds along the southern horizon, the melody of negro voices is heard, as the laborers return from the field; and, by and by, when the frugal meal has been eaten, and the chores are done, again is heard the weird negro voice, accompanied by the stirring notes of the old banjo; and presently the shuffling feet of men and women and the [teals of merry laughter tell of the happy free-froni-care life of the old plantation home. The New South. 5 But another scene rises before my vision. Four years of cruel war have passed, and we are brought to the year of grace, 1865. Along the country road, which follows the course of the river, slowly and painfully trudges a man in tattered gray. By his side hangs an empty sleeve, lie seems downcast, dejected, but as he nears the site of the old homestead his spirit seems to revive; he quickens his pace, and a sweet smile plays over his countenance. He pauses upon the brow of the hill, from which can be had the first view of the dear old home, from which he went, a strong, brave, hopeful man, four years before. lie shades his eyes. He looks about him in every direction — and again turns longingly toward the site of the old home. His bosom heaves, the tears run down his cheeks, a look of inexpressible sorrow conies over his face. The old home is gone. Only the bare, blackened chimneys and the debris about them mark the place where it stood. There is the same grassy lawn sloping dowu to the river's bank ; the same familiar trees stand here and there in the yard ; there is the same old well from whose oaken bucket he had so often quenched his thirst in boyhood days; the same sun is shining down from the heavens, but it looks upon home no more. Pausing only long enough to regain his com- posure, he brushes the tears from his cheeks, and with determined step turns toward the negro cabins, where appears the only sign of life about the place. As he approaches the nearest cabin, an old gray-haired man, who is resting under the shade of the trees, catches sight of him, and, rising, comes with tottering steps to meet him. From the cabin door, attracted by the joyful ex- clamation of the aged man, there comes at the same time a sweet faced woman, clad in plain homespun garb, her sleeves rolled to the elbows, having been evidently (> The New South. interrupted in her household duties. At a glance she recognizes the visitor, and rushes forward. Thus the father and mother meet their returning soldier boy. Doubtless the angels in heaven dropped tears of pity at the anguish of these people as each saw the sad changes wrought in the other during the four years of separation. But I may not dwell on this scene. It is but one of thousands familiar throughout our South- land at this period. The son and parents are happy that they are reunited. Briefly the experiences of the four years are recounted, and then plans for the future are discussed. The cabin in which the old folks are living is the only one occupied. The others are empty. desolate. The negroes are gone. But, although the body of the young man is weak, and one strong arm is missing, there is a soul within that is strong and buoy- ant, and this gives him inspiration. So, not many days elapse before there is a great transformation in the appearance of things. New life seems breathed into the old place, and by degrees it is rebuilt, and becomes the original of my third picture. Once more we stand on the banks of the river, upon Avhose bosom now float majestic steamers. We look with admiration upon the beautiful green of the sloping lawn, and upon the graveled walks that lead up to the front of the handsome, modern structure, evidently a home of wealth and culture. At a little distance we see a mammoth building, with a great smoke-stack pointing heavenward, and from its myriad windows there come the musical hum of the whirring machinery ami the gladsome voices of the happy operatives of a great cotton mill. Behind the house are the barns and stables, and in the distance large herds of cattle are grazing in the rich pasturage, while in other directions The New South. 7 are waving fields of grain, and broad acres of cotton reflecting in its snowy sheen the glad sunlight of heaven. Adown the river, we see a bustling town, sprung up as if by magic, under the touch of the genius of the youth who. but a little while ago, came back in the tattered gray from scenes of blood and carnage. This, too, is but one of many similar scenes which go to make up the new South. The pictures that I have drawn are true to life. The