Excerpts from Reminiscences of the Boys in Gray, 1861-1865
H. G. Damon, Corsicana, Texas-Born Feb. 13, 1836, at
Tallahassee, Leon County, Fla., where I enlisted on the 20th of May, 1861, in the Confederate Army as private in Company D, Second Florida Infantry,
Garland's Brigade, Longstreet's Corps, Army of Northern Virginia. My first Captain was T. W. Brevard, and first Colonel was Geo. T. Wara. Being under
age, was discharged on Sept. 17, 1862, and in February, 1864, joined John H. Morgan's Cavalry as member of Company D, Second Kentucky Cavalry. Was taken
prisoner at Cynthiana, Ky., June 12, 1864, and sent to Rock Island, Ill. Escaped Sept. 19, 1864. Was recaptured about Sept. 30th and sent to Camp
Morton, Indianapolis, Ind., from where I escaped Nov. 14, 1864. Was never promoted. Was in the battles of Williamsburg, Mechanicsville, Beavers' Dam,
Gaines Mill, Frazier's Farm, Second Manassas, Sharpsburg, Wythville and Cynthiana, Ky.
Now for a few reminiscences: My prison experience began at Rock Island, Ill. On the 9th of September, just a little after dark, I escaped
from the place through a cat hole under the fence, which I had enlarged with a case knife. Of the 15,000 or more prisoners confined at different times in
Rock Island prison, I have the honor of being the only one who ever escaped this way. I waded from the island across the Mississippi to the Illinois
shore, and walked up the railroad towards Chicago, laid in the woods next day, and on the next night boarded a train for Chicago, riding part of the way
between the cars, reaching Chicago next morning. Before leaving prison I was given the address of a Mrs. Judge Morris at Marshall, Ill. where several
Confederate soldiers were hiding out there for a special purpose. They had been sent there to raise troops for the Confederate Army out of the thousands
of Southern sympathizers in Southern Illinois and Southern Indiana. Their purpose was to release the prisoners at Camp Morton and Camp Chase and cross
the Ohio and attack Gen. Thomas in the rear. It was a great scheme and might
have succeeded if it had not been for a traitor in our ranks. The men selected
to lead this venture were Capt. John B. Castleman, Capt. Hines, Lieut. Mumford
and myself. At the little town of Sullivan, on the Wabash River, some
scoundrels had been stealing horses and committing other depredations. The
citizens had organized a band of regulators and were arresting all suspicious
characters. They looked on us as suspicious and arrested us. Castleman had
some letters on his person which led them to suspect we were worse than horse
thieves. We were sent to Indianapolis for confinement, and soon afterwards a
dirty villain named Shanks, who claimed to be a Confederate soldier, exposed
our whole plot.
Castleman and Mumford were put in close confinement and I was
sent to Camp Morton, where about 5,000 other Confederate soldiers were. The
prison was rectangular in shape, and enclosed by a fence about twelve feet
high. There was a walk on the outside of the fence about three feet below the
top, where the sentinels walked. These sentinels were about 100 feet apart. On
the prison side of the fence were lamps with reflectors that threw such a
bright light that you could see the smallest object 100 yards off. About ten
feet from the fence was a ditch which was called the "dead line."
The guards had orders to shoot any prisoner who attempted to cross that dead
line.
I had not been in Camp Morton long before I began to look for
a chance to escape. The next day a Tennessee boy, named Dave Young, and I made
the attempt, but were caught and came near being shot. We were taken before
the adjutant of the prison, who applied all kinds of vile epithets to us, tied
our hands behind our backs, tied us to a post and ordered us to mark time.
Just as we began marking time, the sentinel on the fence
called out: "Nine o'clock, and all is well." The next sentinel
repeated it, until it went the whole rounds of the prison guards. We heard
them make the same call every hour during the night. Once we came near
stopping from complete exhaustion, when the man on the fence said: "Boys,
I do not want to shoot you, but my orders are strict; you must keep on
marking time." Finally, after fifteen hours' punishment, we were allowed
to stop. You may think that fifteen hours of marking time was awful, but it
was not to be compared to the additional excruciating torture of having our
hands tied behind us. Our failure, however, did not deter us from trying
again.
We planned to charge the guard and escape over the wall. The
success of this plan involved: First, getting forty or fifty men who had the
nerve to try it; second, getting a sufficient number of ladders to scale the
12-foot fence; third, crossing a ditch six feet deep and several feet wide
before getting to the wall; fourth, charging without weapons a guard posted on
a high fence who would be sure to pour a volley of shot into them, with the
chance that several would be killed. After due deliberation, we concluded to
get up the crowd and make that charge or die in the attempt.
The greatest difficulty was in getting the material for the
ladders. This they solved by tearing up our bunks and using the pieces to make
ladders. We saved every nail and used them in fastening the cross pieces,
supplementing this by pieces of blankets which were torn into strips and used
in place of ropes. All this had to be done quickly and secretly. Delay was
dangerous, so they began work in the morning. Late in the evening all was
ready, and as the twilight fell forty-six men, five of whom had ladders, the
others being armed with rocks, bricks and whatever missiles they could find,
started on the perilous enterprise. The place decided on for the charge was
barrack No. $ on the north side, which was long and about ten feet from the
ditch and parallel with it. This barrack was inhabited by about 500 prisoners,
and was selected because it was so close to the ditch and offered cover to our
men forming.
I was sitting on my bunk getting ready to go to bed when one
of the men came in and said: "Damon, I just saw a crowd of fellows
running across the yard towards No. 4 with ladders. I reckon they are going to
make a charge." Instantly I said: "Come on, boys." Not a man
stirred. Dave Young, with all the bitter remembrance of our recent punishment,
sat where I left him. "Ain't you coming?" I asked. "It is no
use," said he. "It's been tried before. You will get killed."
There was no time for remonstrance, so I left them and started for No. 4. It
was getting quite dark, but objects could be seen 100 feet away. When I got to
No. 4 I saw our men behind the barrack out of range of the guns of the guards.
Some were in front with ladders calling out rather feebly: "Come on,
boys," while those behind were saying with tremendous emphasis, "Go
ahead, boys." I said, "All they want is for some one to take the
lead, and I will do it." The memory of the fiendish and unmerited cruelty
that had been inflicted on me nerved me and I rejoice in an opportunity to
lead a forlorn hope. In a second I had made up my mind to lead that crowed,
but I did not get the chance. When I got within ten feet of the front the
foremost men made a dash and the whole crowd followed.
The guard fired a volley into us, but no one fell, and I do
not know to this day haw many were wounded. As long as I live I will never
forget the fierce delight of this wild charge. It thrills me even now as I
think of it. Into the ditch we jumped and scrambled like cats up the other
side. When I got across there was a ladder against the fence. Two prisoners
were climbing up, and the two guards who had emptied their guns at them, were
standing over them with fixed bayonets. A man behind me on the ditch handed me
a ladder and I placed it against the fence and climbed up. I was the first man
on the second ladder, and when I reached the top the two sentinels who had
been trying to use their bayonets were gone.
After getting outside the prison walls we scattered into
groups of twos and threes. I did not know any one, so I struck out by myself.
I ran about half a mile to where there was some timber, then turned square to
the left, and coming to a road I took it and entered the city about half a
mile south of Camp Morton. Though I was eighteen years old, I did not look to
be over sixteen. I wore a citizens suit, and I did not believe that anyone
would take me to be one of those terrible rebels. I walked through the city
till I came to the Terre Haute Railroad. My aim was to reach Marshall, Ill.,
about ninety miles distant.
When I reached Marshall the Confederate boys had disappeared,
but I found friends who gave me sufficient money to pay my way to Cincinnati,
where I crossed over into Kentucky, and in about a month I joined a company of
recruits that Capt. Southall, one of Duke's recruiting officers, had gathered
together. In the group I found Tam and Clint Brooks. Both with their feet so
badly frostbitten that they had to tie up their feet in rags, but they were
once more free and that was enough to compensate for their suffering.
While I had nothing to do with the plot to escape, I got
credit for the whole thing. Sam Pasco, who was afterwards Senator from
Florida, got home from Camp Morton the next summer. I lived in Tallahassee,
Fla., and saw him soon after he returned. He told me as soon as it was learned
that prisoners were escaping, Davidson, with drawn sword, came rushing to
barrack No. 5 and said: "Where is Damon?" Some one answered:
"He is gone." Pasco said Davidson made the night lurid with
maledictions and said: "Oh, the scoundrel. He is the head of this and
when I catch him I will kill him." I have little doubt that if he had caught me he would have killed me.
List of Duties while serving UCV camp
H. G. Damon was a member of the Winkler Camp UCV in Corsicana, Texas.
Damon was Adj. at annual meeting of Winkler Camp UCV 14 Mar 1896 at
Corsicana; plus, on the reunion committee.
Damon was Adj. of Winkler Camp UCV at the called meeting at the Corsicana
City Hall, March 27, 1897
Damon was Adj. at the annual meeting of Winkler Camp UCV 26 Mar 1899 at
Corsicana and reelected Adj. & made delegate to the Charleston, SC
Convention.
Damon was Elected Adj. at the annual meeting of Winkler Camp UCV 01 Apr
1900.
Damon was Elected Adj. at the annual meeting of Winkler Camp UCV 3 Apr
1909 at Corsicana, 3 Apr 1909 and Delegate to Mt Pleasant, Texas Convention
and the Memphis TN National UCV Convention.
FROM
THE NAVARRO COUNTY
HISTORY VOL. FOUR, PAGE 67
...HENRY G. DAMON DIED FEBRUARY 18, 1916, AND WAS BURIED FROM THE FIRST
BAPTIST CHURCH WHERE HE LAY IN HIS CONFEDERATE UNIFORM WITH HIS BADGE OF
VALOUR ON HIS CHEST IN A CASKET DRAPED WITH THE CONFEDERATE FLAG. REV. B. W.
VINING CONDUCTED THE SERVICES AND THE REV. DR. RAY GAVE THE EULOGY IN WHICH
MR. DAMON WAS DESCRIBED AS BRAVE BUT LOVING AND AN EXAMPLE OF THE CHILVAROUS
SOUTHERN MAN. HE IS BURIED AT OAKWOOD CEMETERY IN CORSICANA AND HIS FUNERAL
WAS ONE OF THE LARGEST HELD THERE AT THE TIME OF HIS DEATH, FILLING BOTH THE
AUDITORIUM AND GALLERY OF THE CHURCH WITH MANY PERSONS LEFT STANDING.
OBITUARYH.
G.
Damon
Passes Away
At
4:30 Tuesday morning, Mr. H. G. Damon,
age 70 years, quietly fell asleep to awaken in the heavenly home. Simple and
unassuming as the life he led in just such wise God saw fit to call him home. No
fondness of farewell, but one clear call and he has “crossed the bar.” For many
years Mr. Damon has been a resident of Corsicana, and at all times his name has
been honorably borne, in his life were centered the attributes of charity,
integrity and Christian manhood. As a soldier he had a brave honorable record.
All Confederate veterans were requested to be the honorary pall bearers and met
at the family residence on
West Third avenue Wednesday afternoon at
3:30 and accompanied the body of their
beloved comrade to the First Baptist church where the funeral services were held
at
4 o'clock.
In the
community, the church the home, his good deeds shall live on as a monument to
his name and memory, symbols of man’s goodness on earth. The sympathy of the
entire community, goes out to the bereaved family. March 1, 1916
Notes:
----
WELL KNOWN CITIZEN DEAD.
Capt. H. G. Damon Died Early Today After Hour’s Illness
Capt. Henry G. Damon, aged 70 years, and one of Corsicana’s oldest
and most highly esteemed citizens, died at his home on West Third
avenue at 5 o’clock this morning from an attack of heart failure
after one hours’ illness. He awoke about 4 o’clock suffering with
his heart, and a physician was summoned, but death came before the
physician could reach him.
The deceased was at his office all day yesterday and was on the
street until late yesterday afternoon, and the news of his death, as
it spread over town at an early hour this morning, came as a
distinct shock and the sad news of the sudden death of this good man
cast a gloom over the entire community, for everybody respected and
esteemed him, and he was sincerely loved by a large circle of
personal friends among our leading and best citizens.
Mr. Damon came to Corsicana from Tallehassee, Florida, his
birthplace, in 1875, and had been a resident here since that time.
He was a Confederate Veteran and an active member of the Baptist
church, and a man of fine intelligence, unblemished personal
character, and leaves behind him a name that is untarnished and a
life that was honorably spent.
Surviving the deceased are his widow and two children, Mr. Gordon
Damon and Mrs. Nell Damon Pace, to whom the sympathy of the entire
community goes out in their hour of sorrow.
The funeral will take place from the First Baptist Church tomorrow
afternoon at 4 o’clock, with Rev. B. W. Vining officiating. The pall
bearers will be as follows:
Active—Guy M. Gibson, Geo. A. Duren, J. S. Millerman, Byron Cheney,
O. L. Albritton, Lowry Martin and Sterling Wood.
Honorary—Camp Winkler, United Confederate Veterans, J. L. Halbert,
Geo. T. Jester, W. J. Gordon, W. J. McKie, Lucius Halbert, C. H.
DeLafosse, C. E. Lee, Will Cheney, J. Y. Roberts, Geo. F. Miller, J.
S. Millerman, J. C. Calhoun, J. F. Taylor, Dr. J. T. Hunt, B. K.
Duncan, Dr. J. A. Jones, W. N. Markham, J. D. Robinson, J. H. Woods,
F. N. Drane, Judge R. S. Neblett, Judge J. H. Rice, Judge J. M.
Blanding, Ralph Beaton, J. D. Jackson, Dr. I. N. Suttle, A. M.
Milligan, S. A. Pace, C. H. Allyn, W. M. Tatum, Fred Fleming, J. E.
Butler, J. J. McClellan, R. E. Prince, A. L. Lotspeich, Dr. R. N.
Holloway, W. M. Elliott, Gen. Felix H. Robertson, Ben Fortson and W.
M. McAfee.
Interment will be in Oakwood cemetery.
On all sides are heard regrets at Mr. Damon’s departure and
invariably there follow words of praise for him.
Capt. J. Y. Bates expressed great sorrow at his death and declared
he was a man of many fine traits of character and he was never known
to speak evil of any man.
Rev. Abe Mulkey said: He was a remarkable man who was always
steadfast in his devotion and adherence to a cause that he regarded
as being right. In this connection Mr. Mulkey said. “He was the
first National Prohibitionist I ever saw and in the first state-wide
prohibition election he paid one of the great North Texas daily
papers $500 of his individual funds for a page advertisement in
behalf of prohibition in that paper. He was always steadfast to the
cause—never wavering.
Members of Camp Winkler speak of him in sorrowing tones and with
voices choking with emotion, while the eyes of the Daughters of the
Confederacy fill with tears at the mention of his name.
He visited the Sun office for the last time yesterday morning, and
that visit was for the purpose of handling in the call for the
annual meeting of Camp Winkler and the Daughters of the Confederacy
next Saturday in the Johnson building. He was true to his family,
his church, his country, his friends, the cause for which he spent
four years of his life—was true to himself and his God. He fought a
good fight and is now in the full enjoyment of the promised rewad.
H. G. DAMON PASSES AWAY.
A Prominent Citizen and a Good Man Gone to Rest.
At 4:30 this morning Mr. H. G. Damon, aged 70, quietly fell asleep
to awaken in the heavenly home. Simple and unassuming as the life he
led, in just such wise God saw fit to call him home. No fondness of
farewell but one clear call, and he has “crossed the bar.” For many
years M. Damon has been a resident of Corsicana, and at all times
his name has been honorably borne. In his life were centered the
attributes of charity, integrity and Christian manhood. As a soldier
he had a brave honorable record. All Confederate veterans are
requested to be honorary pall-bearers and will meet at the family
residence on West Third avenue Wednesday afternoon at 3:30 to
accompany the body of their loved comrade to the First Baptist
Church where the funeral services will be held at 4 o’clock.
In the community, the church, the home, his good deeds shall live on
as a monument to his name and memory, symbols of man’s goodness on
earth. The sympathy of the entire community goes out to the bereaved
family.
A FRIEND.
WILL ATTEND FUNERAL
U. D. C. Requested to Meet Tomorrow Afternoon At 2:30.
The Daughters of the Confederacy are requested to meet at Carnegie
Library at 2:30 tomorrow afternoon to attend in a body the funeral
of Mr. H. G. Damon, Adjutant of Camp Winkler.
MRS. BEN HARTZELL, President
Notes:
--
When the Grim Reaper overtook Mr. H. G. Damon and gathered him to
the fathers one of Corsicana’s most beloved citizens was taken from
the daily walks of men. He was a man of quiet demeanor, reserved in
his habits, but of wonderful will power, a high order of that kind
of courage that is known only in gentlemen and possessed of an
energy and qualities of endurance that were remarkable. He was
always on duty and always at work but always had a smile and cordial
greeting for all who entered his office or whom he greeted on the
street. No word of complaint ever escaped his lips and he was not
unacquainted with sorrow nor many of the His that beset life’s
pathway. As a boy of fourteen in the Confederate ranks he marched as
steadily and as unflinchingly against the enemy as he faced life’s
battles when he laid down his arms. In those qualities that go the
make-up of the true man few if any man possessed more of them than
did Mr. Damon. He will be missed. There are few like him. The world
would be better if there were more like him. To his family, to whom
he was wonderfully devoted, he has bequeathed the priceless legacy
of a good name and to his friends and country he leaves a name and
an example of patriotism that is well wor (the rest of the sentence
is torn off)
Notes:
--
THE LAST SAD RITES
Remains of H. G. Damon Are Laid to Rest in Oakwood.
Seldom has there ever been in Corsicana a more largely attended
funeral than the one of the late Capt. H. G. Damon at the First
Baptist church, this afternoon at 4 o’clock. Long before the
appointed hour the house was filled with the friends of the departed
and his family, and the chancel was a veritable bower of the most
beautiful flowers and evergreens. At 3:30 o’clock the body was borne
from the home, and from there the procession wended its way to the
church, followed by the members of Camp Winkler, Confederate
Veterans, accompanied by Gen Felix H. Robertson of Waco, commander
of the Confederate Veterans of Texas, and a large procession of
friends followed these and the other honorary and active
pallbearers.
The services at the church were conducted by the pastor, Rev. B. W.
Vining, assisted by Rev. Jeff D. Ray of Fort Worth, a former pastor
of the church. Both of these paid beautiful tributes to the memory
of the deceased and the songs for the occasion were beautifully
rendered by Mrs. J. E. Butler, Miss Lois Noble, Douglas Johnson and
Will Cheney, led by Miss Marian Cheney on the pipe organ. The
services were impressive and solemnly beautiful, and a sad hush
prevaded the big throng to the close of the sacred service.
The procession which followed the body to its final earthly abode
was an immense one, and at the conclusion of the services at the
grave the mound was hidden beneath an immense bank of floral
tributes.
All Corsicana realizes that one of the town’s best men has gone from
among them, and his memory will linger as long as men love the brave
and the true.
Notes:
---
MOURNS LOSS OF GOOD MAN
High Tribute Paid Life and Character of H. G. Damon
It was a splendid tribute the ministers, the church of which he was
a faithful member, the Sunday school class of which he was the
teacher and the public, paid Mr. H. G. Damon yesterday. At 4 o’clock
in the afternoon the funeral services for this valued and
universally beloved citizen were held. There were conducted by Rev.
B. W. Vining, pastor of the First Baptist church, of which Mr. Damon
had been a faithful member for many years, assisted by Rev. Dr. Jeff
D. Ray now of Fort Worth, but formerly pastor of the church here,
and like all former and preceding pastors of this church, was a warm
personal friend and great admirer of Mr. Damon. The services were
held in the First Baptist Church.
Prior to the arrival of the hour for the funeral both the auditorium
and gallery of the church were filled and many stood during the
service. The altar was a veritable garden of floral beauty—tributes
of friends who sought to give some expression to their love for this
man for whom everybody who knew him has a kindly word and in every
heart in Corsicana there is a feeling of sorrow because of his
death.
Confederate Veterans, Daughters of the Confederacy and the Anchor
Bible class, of which he was the beloved teacher, the members
wearing their colors, attended the funeral in a body. On the casket
was a Confederate flag and in its narrow confines lay the form of
this chivalric Southerner and Christian gentleman clad in a
Confederate uniform.
Solemnly and slowly the funeral party came into the church, treading
softly to the mellow tones of the organ presided over by Miss Marian
Cheney. Then there came a great hush which was broken by the
quartette composed of Mrs. J. E. Butler, Miss Lois Noble and Messrs.
Douglas Johnson and Will Cheney. AS the sympathetic notes were heard
there came deep sobs all over the house while tears streamed down
many cheeks.
Rev. Dr. Ray, choking with emotion, offered a prayer which he
introduced with the words: “Though our heads are bowed in the midst
of a great bereavement, Thou will not leave us comfortless.” Then he
prayed that the spirit of the Lord might be in the hearts of the
congregation, the friends and the wife and the children and that as
a result of the taking away of our beloved friend that the fragment
of life that is left us may be made purer and cleaner.
Another song by the quartette was followed by the reading of the
90th Psalm by Rev. Dr. Ray, after which he began what proved to be a
most eloquent eulogy that unquestionably came from the lips of a man
who had been drawn very close to the friend who had been called to
the unknown world. Dr. Ray spoke with unmistakable evidence of
sorrow and frequently paused that he might not give way to his
emotions. He came not, he said, to pronounce a post-mortem eulogium
upon Henry Damon. He was thankful that his happens not to be
needful. My eulogy is in writing addressed to him three months ago.
The speaker then told how, moved by some peculiar impulse, he had
one day written Mr. Damon a letter in which he had said to him that
he wanted to say a word to one who had so completely met his idea of
a chivalric man and Christian gentleman. In the letter I told him
how much I loved him and appreciated his character and friendship
and noble life and that I regarded him as an immeasurable asset to
his state, his community and his church. I am glad I placed those
flowers on his brow while he lived that his wife and children might
enjoy them with him. For years I have regarded him as a sworn
brother. Then Dr. Ray told how he and Mr. Damon and two others had
met here and each had agreed to pay respect to the death of the
other. Today of that number I am alone—the only member of that
quartette to weep with you and feeling more deeply than any of you
can feel a since of heartbreaking bereavement. He spoke of Mr.
Damon’s great loving and sympathetic heart and his chivalry and
devotion to the South saying, When as a child of 15 with unusual
courage he followed the meteoric movements of John Morgan, carrying
a musket that was taller than himself, he never knew the sensation
of fear. The speaker quoted a couplet paying a tribute to the
“Beautiful flag” which he said was very dear to Mr. Damon’s heart
and eloquently referred to him then being clothed in a suit of
Confederate gray with a cross of honor on his breast and a
Confederate flag on the casket in which he rested and said though
fearless he was brave but not cruel in battle, neither was he
quarrelsome. I knew him and in knowing him I have known a brave man.
Of physical courage he had the highest type, as he did of moral
courage. I have seen him tried in both. He was a chivalrous and
knightly gentleman. He had heard a lady say that Dr. Damon was
chivalrous to every woman and the speaker said this chivalry was not
forgotten in the domestic circle. No one ever knew him to be guilty
of other than chivalry and courtesy in the presence of women and no
one ever knew him to be guilty of uttering a profane or obscene
word—and there was no act of his that suggested other than modesty
and purity. I thank God for the pure ideals of Southern womanhood
but I know none of more sincerity of soul than that of Henry Damon.
He was a chivalrous gentleman. Whether in prosperity of meager
funds, he was a devoted Christian. With a few others he raised the
money that built this house. This is a sample of the contributions
that he made to the moral and spiritual welfare of this community.
He hadn’t the gift of holding on to things but whether fortune came
or went he was unfaltering in duty. What did he leave? Henry Damon
left no fortune in property but he left something worth much more
than every house on Beaton street, more than every black acre in the
county and more than every dollar piled up in the vaults of all your
banks. He left an untarnished name from boyhood to white-haired old
manhood. No man has said that Henry Damon ever soiled his name. It
is worth something to leave an untarnished name. In all the
struggles in which the people have been engaged in his life he was
on the side of righteousness. He has achieved much in noble
Christian principles. All his life he has been true to himself and
to God. No minister who ever occupied this pulpit was more devoted
to those things that stand for right and Christianity than Henry
Damon. We have lost a good man, many have lost a good friend and
this community has lost a noble, model Christian gentleman. This
church will miss him. The community will miss him. Dr. Ray spoke
feeling of Mr. Damon’s “wonderful devotion to his family” and paid
him a glowing tribute at that point. When I heard of his death, the
speaker said, I said I am going to be a better man, that the remnant
of life that is left me shall be purer and better and may a great
iron purpose come into your hearts to contribute your part to the
work that he has left.
Rev. Mr. Vining, the pastor, after the quartette had given another
appropriate number, after making a few prefatory remarks, read the
13th verse of the 14th chapter of Revelations and said that Mr.
Damon was a perfect type of the Southern gentleman and Southern
chivalry and was a man whom all honored. He was the first member of
the church that any one had spoken of to him in a complimentary way.
The man who did that was Fred Freeman, who had remarked to him, “I
want to tell you about my friend Damon, and then there had followed
many kindly words. His weaknesses were exaggerated virtues. His
loyalty was peculiarly strong. He was also very true to duty and
God. His reward is sure as they who die in the Lord surely shall
live. He died in the faith of God. He died in the service of the
Lord. The purpose of his life was to glorify his Master. The speaker
said he had never known so many people in all the walks of life to
speak so favorably of a man. All of them asked questions about his
death and then paused to express unbounded confidence in his life
and to say he was the “best man I ever knew.” His life was hidden in
God. To a Christian death is very much like a birth. Picturing
eloquently Mr. Damon’s relations at home, which he said were most
pleasant, he declared that “truly was God right when he said,
“Blessed are they who die in the Lord.” Speaking of the close
relations of this life to the life to come he said “Truth in this
world finds its true issue in the life to come and our brother now
comes in contact with the things he believed.” There is nothing that
has more brightness than the message of his life. In his simple life
he preached a sermon every day. I think it fitting that we should
sing the message of his life, said Rev. Mr. Vining, as he closed,
and the quartette immediately sang that always expressive and on
this occasion particularly appropriate hymn, “Take Time to Be Holy.”
Then Mr. Vining announced that the service would be completed at the
cemetery. It was noticed that the great majority of the large
audience followed the remains of this truly noble and pure man to
their last resting place, making it one of the largest funeral
processions in the history of the city and in that way hundreds of
men and women as did numbers of the youth of the city, show their
deep devotion to this chivalric Southerner and true Christian
gentleman.
Notes:
--
TRIBUTE TO H. G. DAMON
Pastor’s Praise Man Who Lived Useful and Blameless Life
The funeral of Mr. H. G. Damon, one of Corsicana’s most beloved
citizens, was held at the First Baptist church Wednesday afternoon.
The Sun carried a full report of the services. Rev. Jeff D. Ray, a
former pastor of the church here, but not of Fort Worth, who was a
warm personal friend of Mr. Damon’s, was called here to assist the
present pastor, Rev. B. W. Vining, in conducting the services. Mr.
Damon was a member of this church and was regarded as a very useful
and active one. A stenographic report of the remarks made by these
two ministers was taken and are reproduced in full today at the
request of Mr. Damon’s family.
After a scripture reading, Rev. Dr. Ray spoke with much feeling as
follows:
I have read the 90th Psalm. I shall pronounce no postmortem eulogy
upon Henry Damon. I thank God that in his case it happens not to be
needful, for my eulogy of Henry Damon is in writing, addressed to
himself three months ago. I know not why, but at the time my soul
went out to my sworn brother and I felt like I wanted to say a word
to one who in all the years of my acquaintance with him so
completely met my ideal of a friend and a Christian gentleman, and I
said to my stenographer, “take a letter,” and I dictated three pages
to Henry Damon—not in my anticipation of this event, but in
fulfillment of the honest utterances of my heart. In this letter I
told him how much I loved him, how I appreciated his character and
his friendship, how I valued his noble life and how I regarded it as
an immeasureable asset among the good things of this community and
this State. It gives me joy that while Henry Damon lived I put that
flower on his rugged path, and that while he lived it was the
privilege of his wife and children to read before he died the
estimate of one who has known him lovingly and intimately for nearly
a third of a century. May I be a little personal without impropriety
when I say that he who now lies before us and two others besides
myself for many years had regarded each other as sworn brothers, and
a few brief months ago three of that quartet met in this room to pay
the last tribute of respect to the first of the four who had passed
to the other side. Today I come alone, the remaining one of the
quartet being absent in a distant State, to weep with you, feeling
more deeply than any of you can the sense of personal heart-breaking
bereavement in the death of one who meant more in his life to me
than any blood brother.
Henry Damon loved this body of brave comrades whose presence here
brings to mind all the love of his chivalrous knightly hearts. He
entered the Confederate service as a child of the age of fifteen
years, when his musket was taller than he, and I am told followed
with the unusual courage the metoric movements of his brilliant
chief, Morgan, making although but a child, a model soldier. He
never knew the sensation of fear, and followed his flag with
unfaltering courage and loyalty. Beautiful flags are floating over
the world, but the flag of a vanished nation has been furled deep in
his heart for to these many years. It was his wish that he might be
honored in his death being clothed in the Confederate gray, to bear
upon his breast the Confederate cross, to have wound about his bier
the Confederate flag. I have said he was brave, but he was not a
quarrelsome man; he was not the sort of man who cared for physical
bravado, but I think I know something of men, and I can say of Henry
Damon, and God knows I speak the truth when I say it. I never in my
life knew a braver man. He not only had no fear of physical danger,
but far more than that, he had the highest type of moral courage. I
have seen it tried in both cases and know the truth where of I
speak. He had that twin sister of courage, chivalrous knighthood. It
was said by a woman of your town who has known him from girlhood,
and from his very young manhood that he was chivalrous to every
woman; that even in the commonplace, too often commonplace, domestic
circle he never forgot the chivalry man owed to woman. Is there a
woman in the world that ever knew Henry Damon guilty of anything but
the highest chivalry and the most knightly courtesy where woman’s
presence was involved? I never knew a cleaner man than Henry Damon.
I was as intimately associated with him as I have ever been with any
man, and I say to you gentlemen, I never heard an obscene word fall
from his lips. I never saw an act of his that in the least suggested
anything prurient or unclean. I thank God for this ideal of purity
and Southern manhood. I never knew a Southern woman, nor wife, not
mother, nor daughter who seemed to me cleaner of soul than Henry
Damon. He was a Christian gentleman. All these years whether during
the years of wealth, when he had unusual prosperity, or during the
longer periods when he had to struggle for existence, all these
years from his young manhood, he has been unwaveringly the
Christian. Most of you gentlemen know that with one other he raised
the money by private solicitation among his friends of this city and
built this church. And this is but a small contribution that Henry
Damon made to the moral and spiritual welfare of this community. Two
or three times he had a fortune in his hands, but being a dreamer,
somehow he had not the gift of holding on to these fortunes, and
these fortunes slipped from his hands. But whether fortunes came or
went, his loyalty to duty never varied. When Dr. Carrol died
somebody said, “What did he leave?” They meant by that how much land
did he leave. Well he left a front yard. But what did he leave” You
ask me what did Henry Damon leave, I cannot answer for I knw not
what turn fortune had taken with him in the last few years, but I
take it that he left no great estate in the estimation of the world,
but if you ask me what did Henry Damon leave? I say he left
something that was of more value than every house on Beaton street.
I shall answer that he left something more than every black acre in
Navarro county. I shall say that he left more than all the gold and
silver heaped in the vaults of every bank in this city and in every
other city. He left an untarnished name. From boyhood to whitehaired
old manhood no man ever said that Henry Damon has soiled his good
name. It is worth something gentlemen for this to be said when a man
lies as he now lies; it is something of great value to be handed
down as a precious heritage to his children, that he left in the
judgement of all men an untarnished name. I would rather inherit the
untarnished name of Henry Damon if I was his child than to be heir
to countless acres and untold wealth that he might have gathered.
What did he leave? He left to the community here, not only in
Corsicana, but throughout this State the distinction of honorable
unsullied name. He was a good man, an unselfish man, a man with a
strong devotedness to give himself to the good of the people. There
has never been a struggle in Texas on any subject that Henry Damon
was not upon the side of righteousness in that struggle. Who can say
that he ever fought any side but the right side. If some of his
neighbors think that he is a man that accomplished but little
because they measure these questions by dollars and cents, I come to
you with a loving heart and say that this man has fought in every
fight on the right side for morality, purity and religion. He has
been on the right side in every question. His life has not been in
vain. He has accomplished something worth-while, gentlemen. When we
take an inventory of what Henry Damon has accomplished, I would have
you turn your mind from all the black land, all the money, all the
honors, and turn your mind to the high ideals, Christian principles,
and great moral questions to which with unflagging zeal and
unwavering courage all his life long he has given himself. He was
singularly consecrated to the things that were good and I say to you
gentlemen that there is something in this. When you ask what a man
has done in this life, I want to say that a man who has contributed
to the high ideals of a people, who has upheld the high standard of
Christianity, morality and religion in any community that man has
done something.
But I said I have not come here to pronounce a postmortem eulogy
upon my friend. The things I have said are the same words that
living witnesses have heard fall from my lips as one who loved him.
I am not speaking out of the emotion that comes from the presence of
the body of the dead friend. I am simply reiterating words I have
spoken over and over while my friend lived. My neighbors, I say
neighbors for there are men looking up into my face today who have
never ceased to be neighbors to me. My neighbors, we have lost a
good man; some of you have lost a good friend, and this community
has lost a noble model of a Christian gentleman.
We will bear him now in a little while to sleep in the same acre
with Frank Cheney, over whose body he wept with me a little while
ago. This church will miss him as it missed the other deacon; not
only in the months that have passed this community will miss him,
will miss him more than they know. The old men are passing away
mighty fast. This is true of us, gentlemen. We are all passing
rapidly into that unknown country where we shall give an account of
the life we spent here.
When the news came yesterday I kept repeating over to myself, I am
going to be a better man now. The fragments of life that are left me
I am going to pack more full of the things that are good, fuller
than ever before. There are men here who will feel like saying the
same thing and who will be better men for having known Henry Damon,
and if some life shall be purified and ennobled and given to higher
things, his life shall not have been in vain. So I say, may God
bless you my neighbors and friends. I call you all my neighbors, for
I know how you have borne the heat and burden of the day in the
making of Corsicana what it is in the last forty years, and I say
God bless you, the young men of Corsicana, and may a great iron
purpose enter your life and soul to take the place in a worthy way
of these older men and contribute your part to the work that Henry
Damon has left. God bless you.
Rev. Mr. Vining, with unmistakable evidence of being deeply moved,
said;
The character of Brother Damon is such that it is both becoming and
fitting that both phases of his life and his life work shall be
touched on at this service, the last for him on earth. It is
becoming and fitting that I, as well as his friend and one-time
pastor, who has spoken so well and expressed a man’s devotion and
affection, as this brother has, shall turn and speak of another
phase of his life as it is my privilege for just a few moments to
do.
My text is from the 14th chapter of the Book of Revelations, 13th
verse: “And I heard a voice from heaven, saying unto me right blessed are
the dead which die in the Lord, from henceforth; Yea, saith the
Spirit, that they may rest from their labors; and their works do
follow them.”
I said privately in his home that we bury a typical old Southern
gentleman. So beautifully did Brother Ray refer to him as a type of
Southern chivalry of the years that are past, typical of the
chivalrous men who are honored by everyone.
He was the first member of this church whom I heard spoken of
complimentary, and many times since have I heard the same sentiments
expressed. Just a few weeks after I became pastor of this church I
met Brother Fred Freeman who said he had just a minute that he
wanted to talk to me about Brother Henry Damon, and he told me so
many beautiful things about him that have just been amplified to us
today by his friend, Brother Ray. It has been said that all men have
their weaknesses. Brother Doman’s weaknesses were exaggerated
virtues. He stood for all that was right, and his loyalty was
peculiarly marked. He was true to his duty. He believed in his God,
and God and his works were first in his mind and heart. So it seems
to me that the text here is peculiarly applicable to Brother Damon.
“Blessed are they who die in the Lord.” To die in the Lord means to
die in the faith of God. Surely there is no doubt of it, for the
only hope that we have must rest in the merits of Jesus Christ, and
if there ever lived a man who put his faith and trust in the merits
of Jesus Christ, it was our friend and brother who is now gone from
us. He died in his faith in God.
To die in the Lord, means to die in the love of God. To love him who
first loved us. That love in Christ Jesus and to so live was the
great object of Brother Damon’s life; the chief subject of his
thought and the great purposes of his life were to glorify his Lord
and serve him. To die in the Lord means to die in obedience to the
law. If we want to die in the Lord we must live in the Lord, and
surely he lived in the Lord. We have abundance evidence of this in
his life, Jew and Gentile, Christian and non-Christian have said,
this is the best man I ever knew. Surely, he died and lived in the
Lord. To die in the Lord means to die in communion with God, dead to
the world, dead to sin. Those who lived with God die filled with the
love of the Lord. They die in the Lord. The relations of this life
are not abiding, they are constantly changing. None of these
relations to him were sweet, and the relation that was severed for
him such a short while ago has now been restored and will not again
be broken. Surely he was one of the blessed who died in the Lord.
Then is given the reasons, because they rest from their labors and
their works do follow them. In the words of the text, they rest from
their labors. In other words; there is no more physical pain, mental
anxiety or spiritual depression. No more anxious moments, no more
physical pain, no more spiritual depression for him. There are no
Mondays in heaven! No return to another week of service and work.
Heaven is one eternal Sunday; every day in that glorious home is
Sunday; neither pain nor sorrow is there. His life of service and
love has reached its full fruition; his face is shining now with
eternal brightness in the presence of God. Some lives have no
message; some lives seemingly give no message to the world, but this
man in simple even tenor of life preached a mighty message every
day. I think nothing would be more fitting at this time, the closing
of his service on earth this meeting with his church, than to sing
the message of his life. Take time to be holy. Let us sing “Take
Time to Be Holy.”
Notes:
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