Sketches of prominent Tennesseans. Containing biographies and records of many of the families who have attained prominence in Tennessee, Part 26

Author: Speer, William S
Publication date: 1888
Publisher: Nashville, A. B. Tavel
Number of Pages: 1278

USA > Tennessee > Sketches of prominent Tennesseans. Containing biographies and records of many of the families who have attained prominence in Tennessee > Part 26

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HON. FRANK T. REID.

NASHVILLE.

THIS distinguished gentleman, a native Tennessean and one of its best representatives, sprang into prominent notice in the spring of 1881, as the nominee of the Republican State convention for governor of I 15

Tennessee. In the ensuing campaign he amply fulfilled his promise, made in the speech accepting the nomina- tion, to carry the party banner placed in his hands to victory or honorable defeat, having reduced the Demo-

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cratic majority from more than twenty-seven thousand to a little over six thousand. In his speeches during the canvass his political principles were clearly and boldly enunciated. He was in the habit of stating that his father and all his family being Whigs, he, as a boy, came under that influence; that he never drew a Democratic breath in his life; and that, following the doctrines of the old Whigs to their logical conclusion, he cast his first presidential vote in 1872 for Gen. Grant, and had been a Republican ever since, advocating a protective tariff; the Blair educational bill; internal improvements by the general government; the payment of every dollar of the State debt; a free ballot and a fair count; opposing a State railroad commission ; and denouncing the system of leasing out the labor of con- victs as an iniquitous abomination,

Judge Reid was born in Williamson county, Temes- see, March 9, 1845, at his uncle's, Dr. Frank T. Reid, for whom he was named, but grew up in Nashville, where he has resided ever since, except the war episode in his life, and twelve months' travel in Europe.

In 1862 he joined company F, Starnes' cavalry regi- ment, but was transferred, just before the battle of Chickamauga, in the fall of 1863, to Capt. John W. Morton's battery, and served in Tennessee, Georgia, Mississippi and Alabama till the close of the war, having taken part in all the battles and skirmishes in which Forrest's command was engaged, from the battle of Thompson's Station to the end. When trans- ferred from Starnes' regiment he was promoted to first sergeant of the battery.

His father, John Reid, was born in Williamson county, Tennessee, in 1816, at the home of his grand- father, Abram Maury (after whom Maury county was named), one of the early settlers of the State. He was a lawyer-having been State senator, and occasionally having acted as special chancellor. He died at Nash- ville, August 11, 1885.

Judge Reid's grandfather, Maj. John Reid, who mar- ried Miss Elizabeth, daughter of Abram Maury, above mentioned, was born in Bedford county, Virginia, in 1784. He received a classical education, read law, and in 1807 removed to Tennessee, first settling at Jef- ferson, in Rutherford county; but on his marriage, in 1809, he changed his residence to Franklin, in Williamson county, where he was engaged in the successful practice of his profession when the war of 1812 began.

Judge Reid married in Nashville, June 4, 1872, Miss Josephine Woods, who was born at her father's, on High street, in that city, May 25, 1852, daughter of Robert F. Woods, a merchant, formerly a sugar planter of Louisiana, of an old family of early settlers in Davidson county, from Virginia. Her mother, Marina Cheatham, was a daughter of Gen. George Cheatham, a stock- raiser in Robertson county. The Cheathams of Ten- nessee are all of the same family, and originally from

North Carolina. Mrs. Reid was educated at Nashville and is a member of the Episcopal church.

By his marriage with Miss Woods, Judge Reid ha three children: (1). Nina, born February 23, 1877 (2). Lonisa Trimble, born November 12, 1881. (3) John, born February 5, 1885.

He began the study of law in 1866, under his father Judge John Reid; was admitted to the bar in 1867 licensed by Judges Frazier and Cooper. His fir partner was Neill S. Brown, jr., 1868-1872, after which he became partner with his father.

He inherited from his mother a quick, mobile am emotional nature, combined with very great gentleness exquisite sensitiveness, and the nicest sense of honor Ile is a man who revels in the luxuries of learning an. aesthetics, lives in a world of ideas, and if a mars library may be taken as an index of his tastes, he is, b this test, fond of poetry, works of imagination, tales an essays, rather than of metaphysics and kindred subject- For his literary taste and cast of mind he is more deeply indebted to Mr. Carlyle than to any other writer. It is probable that from him he imbibed tha hatred of sham, boldness of utterance, and keenness o satire that characterize him as a stump speaker. It i noteworthy that in his specches he makes few quotation; either from prose or poetry, but delivers his owi thoughts in his own language. Hence, his publi addresses are novel in conception, fresh in make-up genuine în purpose, and presented in forcible styl strengthening the strong, fixing the wavering, an. attracting an enthusiastic following.

Judge Reid never had a collegiate education. Wher young he attended primary schools, and was a year o more in the military college or University of Nashville but at the age of sixteen he joined the Confederat army, which closed his scholastic career. Ilis informa tion is due, not to the school-master, but to his effort to educate himself, and especially after the death of hi mother in 1849 (when he was only four years old), t the rearing he had under the care of his maternal aunt Mrs. Gov. Neill S. Brown, and to his association with the best people in Davidson county. At the age ( twenty-four ( 1869). he made a trip to Europe, and spent twelve months traveling over the continent " to see the world."

In August, 1878, he was elected circuit court judge o the eighth judicial district, term expiring September 1 1886, and his decisions on the bench have been givei under a high seuse of the moral responsibility of : judge to mete out exact justice, according to the law and facts in the case. Like Chancellor Kent, he make himself certain of the facts, and the real point in the controversy. Any judge with a clear head pursuing this course will have little difficulty in deciding cause, for once the real facts are clearly established the answer is at his elbow. The same rule applies to the bar ; for if' a lawyer once gets thorough knowledge

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of the facts of a case, he will readily discover the point of merit upon which it rests, and can then easily turn to his library for authorities, should they be needed, to fortify his conclusions. But Judge Reid has very little sympathy for that class of the profession who have run mad after authorities-after the letter of the law rather than its spirit-for case and precedent lawyers, and he bimself' never decides a case unless he is clearly satisfied in his own mind what the right decision is.

Judge Reid's gubernatorial canvass of the State in 1181 made Republicanism respectable in Tennessee, won for himself friends all over the State in both political parties, and fully sustained the reputation of Tennessee stump oratory. llis style of oratory was earnest without vehemence, logical but not cold, and his delivery was stamped with the sincerity of convic- tion. The editor has heard but one opinion of Judge Reid as a speaker, and that is, that he ranks among the most finished orators of the State, an accomplished gentleman, a man of letters, a thinker, an original investigator, always speaking the thought that is within him, and loyal to his own convictions. The editor heard him three times, and noted that he never lacked for a word; was elaborate without prolixity or repeti- tion; that his diction was scholarly and chaste; that he enthused his audience without resort to anecdotes unbecoming the dignity of a statesman, and that his tastes are very different from those of the ordinary politician. Though a candidate for high office, yet, during the heated and bitter canvass, no reproach of stigma or suspicion of taint was urged against his character.

His opening address as the Republican candidate for 4 governor abounds in passages of remarkable force and brilliance. A few are selected :

"It was from under the roof of that honored and eloquent old Whig leader, ex-Gov. Neill S. Brown, where the greater part of my life had been passed, that, a sixteen year old boy, I left to join the ranks of the Southern army. * Because I enlisted in * that army did that commit me, for the balance of my life, to the support of the political doctrines of John C. Calhoun ? Was it loyalty to the doctrines of nullifica- tion, State sovereignty and the constitutional right of secession that led those of us who were bred in the school of Henry Clay to enlist under the Confederate flag? What was it that did lead us? It was the wild enthusiasm of that wonderful hour that preceded the uprolling of the curtain which disclosed the terrible four years' tragedy of a nation's struggle for life; when the air throbbed with the fierce beat of drums, and was rent with the martial cries of war-intoxicated men."

* *

"The impartial student of history now sees that for twenty years and more before the breaking out of the war, this country was rushing with awful velocity upon ruin and death. It was shooting Niagara. The storm

of war purified the foul pestilence-breeding atmosphere that was sowing in our political system the seeds of cor- ruption and death. Unwittingly we fought against our- selves, and God saved us from our own madness. The stars in their courses fought against Sisera."

* * *

"A boy, T fought in the ranks, under the Confederate flag, bare footed in the depth of winter, and in rags; and because, upon my restoration to American citizen- ship, a grown man, my matured reason said to me that it was vastly better for the best interests of mankind that that flag had gone down in defeat, albeit covered with glory ; that the Republican party was the true exponent and representative of the principles that had triumphed, and which we who had appealed to the sword were in honor bound to accept, and which the God of Battles had declared should mould the future historical development of the country; because I re- fused to live among the tombs and wear erape for the dead, believing it to be my duty to "live in the living present," forsooth, I am denounced as a renegade, an apostate, a traitor !"

After referring to the oppressive measures of the Republican party during the period of reconstruction, he said :

" At any rate, when in 1869 I left this country, and for a twelvemonth traveled through the countries of the old world; when I saw the condition of the masses of the people there and the character of the govern- ments under which they groaned; when I saw tyrants and aristocrats with their heels on the necks of my brothers-manhood abased and our common humanity dishonored-and then saw in their seaports and towns the starry flag of the American republic, floating proudly and loftily among their emblazoned ensigns as though it felt the spirit of God and freedom consecrating its folds, proclaiming 'to the king on his throne, to the slave on his knee,' the equality and brotherhood of all men, as Christ proclaimed it, and died to sanctify it with his blood; proclaiming ' the rank is but the guinea's stamp, the man's the gold for a' that,' I confess my heart leaped with a feeling for which I can find no ex- pression in words in the proud consciousness of Ameri- can citizenship."

Discussing the national idea of the Republican party, and contrasting it with the Democratic doctrine, he said :

" Mr. Tilden embodied the Democratic doctrine when he defined the Union as 'a federative agency.' What do the survivors, on that side, think of this Democratic definition ? What do those think of it who, when the toesin of war sounded like an alarm bell in the night, and the cry rang out from the capital, 'Arm, citizens, the country is in danger?' rushed forth by thousands from their shops and farms to follow the great flag of the Union ' down to the fields of glory?' Again I catch

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a glimpse of that awful vision. Again the earth trem- bles under the shock of struggling armies, and the air is wild with affright from the mad roar of the cannon and the fierce scream of the shell. Amid the storm of battle that rages above the clouds on Lookout mountain the life-blood ebbs from the heart of the color-bearer of Tattersall's regiment, and away youder on the west- ern prairies, as the sun sinks below the horizon, a little curly-headed girl plays with her doll, all unconscious that her father, who, but a year before, had trotted her on his knee, is lying on the yellow leaves with the pic- ture of home and wife and children rising up before him out of the gathering mists and gloom of death. Oh! how the thought must comfort and strengthen him in that dark hour, that he yielded up his life in de- fense of-' the federative agency.' Ah! it is a cruel slander. He knows, if Mr. Tilden does not, that he is dying for his country; that the Nation may live; that the great American republic, the mighty defender of the rights of man, whose mission it is to Christianize the world, may not pass away from earth ; may not be whelmed

' In that great ocean of Oblivion Where already, in numbers numberless, The graves of buried empires heave like passing waves.'

It is that thought that lights up his poor wounded face with a glad smile, and gives him strength to whisper his last words on earth into the car of the dark, tender- eyed Angel of Death who stoops over him: 'Yes, it is sweet to die for one's country.'

" It was restored love of country, love of the Union, that led me into the ranks of the Republican party."

The literary productions of Judge Reid would of themselves make a charming volume. Space can be given only to a few passages in prose and in verse, for he writes both with equal facility and elegance :

" Does it not cause in us, at times, a fearful feeling to reflect that we can never be children again ; no more, through all eternity, return to that quiet time when we lay on a loving mother's bosom, or prattled at her knee?"

" The great aim of our life should be, to aggregate together and to fuse into a whole all our particles of spiritual intelligence and strength. Mere vague, dreamy, spiritual aspirations are nothing, except in so far as they indicate spiritual capabilities. We appear in that other world the same identical spirits we were in this. If we were to lose our identity, we would not be our- selves, The real spirit of anything is a portion of the universal Spirit, or God. If particles of spirit can grow and develop themselves into higher forms, would it not follow that the Universal Spirit is constantly growing and developing into higher forms of spiritual being, and consequently not all perfect ?"

" Fair flowers emanations are Of Beauty's spirit everywhere : In sun and moon, and stars and sky, In streams and lakes, and mountains high. Spirit that lurks each form within, Evolving life from death and sin. Life and love, the lily aud rose- Each to dark earth its beauty owes. Of the oyster is born the pearl, And high heaven of our low world. Spirit of beauty in everything, Always changing and fashioning- Gradually, slowly fitting its shell, In which higher forms of life shall dwell."

"Man's mission is to earn his bread-natural and spiritual bread-by the sweat of his brow and brain. This city-dotted globe was once but a waste- tangled . wilderness, and two human beings stood herein with only fig tree coverings ; and see the change wrought by their sons and daughters-by those of them that have worked! We are born children of order, and enemies of disorder. The carpenter makes smooth plank of rough, gnarled timber; the sculptor transforms flinty rocks into symmetrical, life-looking bodies; the me- chanie converts mountain ore into useful implements and machines. Thus are we engaged in bringing about that 'far-off, Divine event, to which the whole creation moves.' If all men would but work, how much longer would we have to journey on through the Desert; if all these innumerable yawning idlers, waiting for God to mend matters, would but help him to mend them? Work is man's mission, his highest act of wor- ship-' its litany and psalmody the noble acts and true heart utterance of all the valiant of the sons of men ; its choir music the ancient winds and oceans, and deep- toned, inarticulate, but most speaking, voices of Destiny and History, supernal ever as of old.'"'

* *

" What an Aceldama this world is! I sometimes wonder if it must not vex the ear of Heaven, the countless sighs and groans and shricks that human hearts and lips pour out upon the empty air! If all that have escaped since time began could but be vol- umed forth in one great ery that should go forth to search the universe for God, the fearful sound would crack the very globe itself. Or if each scene of human suffering, since first the pitiless sky vaulted this charnel- ; house, the earth, could be transferred, life-size, upon a canvas wide and high as heaven; and power of vision granted us to grasp each smallest object, what a picture would be unrolled to mortal eyes. God sees it thus : and yet there are who say He is an angry and a jealous God."

" Thank God, some days the sky looks down upon me with a face as noble and serene as any Spartan mother's, and all the air is full of music, and the fall of feet upon

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the pavement sounds like the tramp of armies marching onward."

"One who has left behind him the ' dreams of his youth ;' who has squandered his inheritance in carnal company and riot, or attained the end of his ambition in having secured great wealth, or fame, ouly to realize the desolate ery'all is vanity!' passes along the street, of a calm Sabbath morning, and hears the voices of children singing an old, long-forgotten hymn, which he himself sang when a child, telling of a beautiful land beyond the valley of the dark Shadow, where all tears will be wiped away, and the father will again feel the little arms of the child he buried so many weary years before around his neck, can it be that that within him which forces the tears into his eyes will bear no other fruit or blossoms than those which fade and wither or turn to ashes on the lip?"

" A hot July day. The long, white, dusty macadam- ized turnpike, steaming. A drove of sheep panting, with tongues out, and with tender, appealing eyes. Little lambs, footsore, and limping by the side of mothers powerless to help (the unspeakable anguish in those supplicating eyes!), driven by human beings, made in the likeness of God, with lieavy whips in their hands; and down in the town a red-faced butcher, with a sharp knife, waiting to draw it across their tender throats! But how would the world exist without spring lamb and green peas?"

"Some years ago I was in Naples. In front of the hotel, and lying along the sea, was a garden and public promenade. Here, in the cool of the evening, a fine band of music would play for hours, and the elite and fashion display themselves. It was a rare pleasure, after returning from the day's ramble, to secure a good seat on the side nearest the bay, and listen to the music and the long ripple and splash of the waves on the clear white sand at one's feet; to watch the gaily-dressed, animated crowds, lovely ladies leaning on the arms of handsome gentlemen, and beautiful little boys and girls running hoops, or engaged in some other childish sport, while the hum of the wonderful and busy city in the distance came subdued and softened on the evening air. In the soft, mellow twilight, what a weird feeling would creep into one's breast while sitting here looking out upon the great sheet of water, undulating, rising and falling like a mighty carpet by gusts of wind underneath, carrying on its bosom white-winged sailing vessels, fish- ermen's smacks and ocean steamers ; at the great dark fire-mountain opposite, which one knew, and could not but recall, had in the past thrilled and horrified so many human beings with its terrible vomitings forth of fire and red-hot stones and ashes. One could see the people of Pompeii and Herculaneum fleeing, horror- struck, in all directions, in the great darkness, preter

naturally lit up at times with huge flames and bursts of fire."

* *

" The day I visited Mount Vesuvius was wonderfully clear and bright. A few white, fleecy clouds drifted across the sky, which only seemed a short distance overhead, and extraordinarily pure and blue. All the ground we had come over lay immediately beneath us, and could be distinctly viewed; the huge, upturned, crested rocks; the serpentine windings of mighty streams of petrified lava, and vast fields of dust and ashes. Far off to the left, stretching for miles in a semi-circular form along the beautiful bay, lay Naples, its house-tops and cupolas and spires glittering under a brilliant mid- day sun. Hundreds of sailing crafts lazily floated on the blue waves, and steamers, leaving long lines of black smoke in their track, were coming and going.

On the side nearest the sea could be seen charming villas, surrounded by the most picturesque fairy scenery ; here standing out on jutting promontories, at whose base the great waves lashed themselves into angry foam, and here, half hid in deep gorges, whose sides were covered with orange and lemon trees laden with golden fruit, the white rock turnpike leading from Castel- lemmare to Sorrento could be caught glimpses of, now and then breaking from some deep ravine and winding like a silver thread along the sea-coast, up steep de- clivities, to where some iron or stone light-house stood lonely, looking out upon the sea, or where an old time- worn ruin spoke of long forgotten sieges and battles."

" Hark! that heavy, pompous tread Tells of one well cloth'd and fed. Here comes one whose cold heart. ne'er To the eye can force a tear.

- Ragged children round him weep.

' Feed my sheep, oh feed my sheep!' But he counts his rich gains o'er, Robs and cheats to swell the store, And grinds the faces of God's poor, Lives respected, and will die In the odor of sanctity."

* :

ON THE DEATH OF A CHILD.

In a darkened room a mothor kneels By the side of a trundle bod, Where a little child with folded hands And closed eyes lies dead.

Outside, the glare of the blinding sun, And the noises of the street, Shrill eries, and the rattle of vehicles, And the patter of children's feet.

llis torn straw hat hangs up on a peg, And his well worn suit of gray, That his mother will brush, with breaking heart, And fold and lay away.

And dear grandchildren, in far- off' years, Will gather around her knee. Their little dead unele's suit of clothes. Faded and worn, to see.

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They will lay him out in the parlor below, On a sofa old and rare, Where his father and mother used to sit In the days of courtship fair.

They will lay him out in his Sunday clothes, And smooth down his curly hair, While his own dear look sleeps sweet on his face That will never be seen elsewhere.

His father will come and gaze on the faco And small form hid under flowers, And see himself before he was changed By the cruel, remorseless hours.

He will sit by the side of the corpse so still, A soft, white hand in his own, And the fearful ery in his heart, " O where, Where has my little child gone !

Out into the Night that hugs this earth In dark and vast embrace, He's had to go alone, so small, so weak! O God, shall I ever again see his face?

My darling, why will you not open your eyes ? Where has your merry laugh fled ? Will I never again feel your arms 'round my neck ? Your little hands pressed to my head !

All the hours of last night I lay wide awake, And you were not there by my side ; I turned to throw my arm over you, Charley, For I had forgot you had died.

I felt so weary, and sin-stain'd and sad, My eyes were too hot for tears ; And I could not kiss your pure brow and lips To banish my doubts and fears.

These barren days where art thou, Lord Christ ? Why not the awful seerot tell ? Did God, in truth, forsake thee in thy need ! Or cans't thou say 'All, all is well ?'"

Through stained glass, into the quiet church, Steal the soften'd rays of the sun, And a woman's voice, like an angel's, sings "O God, thy will be done !"

The white robed priest in the chancel kneels, And the people follow in prayer, And a Sob breaks out from a young girl's heart That thrills the listening air ; And the face of the child through the coffin's lid Smiles softly swoot and fair.

The years aro powerless to change it now, To stamp it with the frown of care, Or with the cold and crafty business look, Or bloated drunkard's stare.

From the cool and solemn and mellow'd gloom To the noise and dust of the street, Under the fierce, vulgar stare of the sun Comes the dead, 'midst the tramp of feet.

Out on the street, in front of saloons, Red-nosed mortals stand And gaze at the hearse and coffin inside, And the cortege long and grand.

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Sketches of prominent Tennesseans. Containing biographies and records of many of the families who have attained prominence in Tennessee, Part 26

Author: Speer, William S Publication date: 1888 Publisher: Nashville, A. B. Tavel Number of Pages: 1278

Author: Speer, William S
Publication date: 1888
Publisher: Nashville, A. B. Tavel
Number of Pages: 1278