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Poem
October 26, 1878
Frostburg Mining Journal
Frostburg, Allegany County, Maryland
What is this article about?
A Confederate veteran, Bob Sutton, writes in dialect to his brother John about contracting yellow fever in Memphis while working on boats post-Civil War. He describes the epidemic's toll, volunteering with the Howards, and being saved by blankets and ice sent from the North, leading to gratitude toward Yankees and hope for national reconciliation.
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Full Text
BOB SUTTON AT MEMPHIS.
He Tells His Brother John About "Them Yankee Blankits."
BY SAM SMALL, ("OLD SI.")
Yes, John, I was down thar at Memphis
A-workin' around at the boats,
A-heavin' o' cotton with emphasis
An' a loadin' her onter the floats.
I was comin' away from Ole Texas
Whar I went, you know, arter the wah—
'Bout it, now, I'll make no reflections,
But wait tell I git ter long taw!
Well, while I was down thar the fever,
As valler an' pizen as sin,
Broke out: an' ef vou'll beleeve her,
Wharever she bit she struck in.
It didn't take long in the hatchin',
It jes' fa'rly bred m the air,
Tella hosspitel camp wain't patchin'
An' we'd plenty o' corpses to spare.
I volunteer'd then with the Howards—
I thought thct my duty was clear—
An' I didn't look back'ards, but for'ards
An' went ter my work 'ithout fear.
One dav, howsomever, she got me
As quick as the shot of a gun,
An' they toted me off ter allot me
A bunk tell my life-race was run.
The doctors and nurses they wrestl'd,
But it dan't do me any good;
An' the drugger he poundid an' pestl'd,
But he ditin't get up the right food.
"No blankits ner ice in the city!"—
I heard 'em say that from my bed—
An' somc cried, "Oh, God! who'll take pity
On the dyin' that soon'll be dead?"
Next dav, howsomever, the doctor
Come in with a smile on his brow;
"Ol' boy, just as fit we hain't knock'd her"
Said he, "but we'll do fer her now!"
Fer yer see John, 'em folks ter the nor'ward
Hed heard us afore we cail'd twice
An' they sent us a full cargo forward
Of them much needed blankits an' ice!
Well, brother, I've been mighty solid
Agin' Yankees, ver know, since the wah.
An' agin' reconstrucktin' was stolid
Not kearin' for Congress ner law;
But, John, I get onder that kiver,
That God-blessed gift o' the Yanks,
An' it sav'd me frum fording' "the river,"
An' I'm prayin'em ocean o' thanks!
I teil yer, old boy, thar's er streak in us
Old Rebs an' Yanks thet is warm—
It's our brotherly love thet'il speak in us
An' fetch us together in storm;
We may snarl about "nigs an' franchises,"
But whenever thar's sufferin' afoot—
The two trees'll unite in the branches
The same as they do at the root!
Atlanta Constitution.
He Tells His Brother John About "Them Yankee Blankits."
BY SAM SMALL, ("OLD SI.")
Yes, John, I was down thar at Memphis
A-workin' around at the boats,
A-heavin' o' cotton with emphasis
An' a loadin' her onter the floats.
I was comin' away from Ole Texas
Whar I went, you know, arter the wah—
'Bout it, now, I'll make no reflections,
But wait tell I git ter long taw!
Well, while I was down thar the fever,
As valler an' pizen as sin,
Broke out: an' ef vou'll beleeve her,
Wharever she bit she struck in.
It didn't take long in the hatchin',
It jes' fa'rly bred m the air,
Tella hosspitel camp wain't patchin'
An' we'd plenty o' corpses to spare.
I volunteer'd then with the Howards—
I thought thct my duty was clear—
An' I didn't look back'ards, but for'ards
An' went ter my work 'ithout fear.
One dav, howsomever, she got me
As quick as the shot of a gun,
An' they toted me off ter allot me
A bunk tell my life-race was run.
The doctors and nurses they wrestl'd,
But it dan't do me any good;
An' the drugger he poundid an' pestl'd,
But he ditin't get up the right food.
"No blankits ner ice in the city!"—
I heard 'em say that from my bed—
An' somc cried, "Oh, God! who'll take pity
On the dyin' that soon'll be dead?"
Next dav, howsomever, the doctor
Come in with a smile on his brow;
"Ol' boy, just as fit we hain't knock'd her"
Said he, "but we'll do fer her now!"
Fer yer see John, 'em folks ter the nor'ward
Hed heard us afore we cail'd twice
An' they sent us a full cargo forward
Of them much needed blankits an' ice!
Well, brother, I've been mighty solid
Agin' Yankees, ver know, since the wah.
An' agin' reconstrucktin' was stolid
Not kearin' for Congress ner law;
But, John, I get onder that kiver,
That God-blessed gift o' the Yanks,
An' it sav'd me frum fording' "the river,"
An' I'm prayin'em ocean o' thanks!
I teil yer, old boy, thar's er streak in us
Old Rebs an' Yanks thet is warm—
It's our brotherly love thet'il speak in us
An' fetch us together in storm;
We may snarl about "nigs an' franchises,"
But whenever thar's sufferin' afoot—
The two trees'll unite in the branches
The same as they do at the root!
Atlanta Constitution.
What sub-type of article is it?
Verse Letter
Ballad
What themes does it cover?
War Military
Political
Friendship
What keywords are associated?
Memphis
Yellow Fever
Yankees
Blankets
Reconstruction
Civil War
Reconciliation
Howard Association
What entities or persons were involved?
By Sam Small, ("Old Si.")
Poem Details
Title
Bob Sutton At Memphis.
Author
By Sam Small, ("Old Si.")
Subject
Yellow Fever Epidemic In Memphis And Yankee Aid
Form / Style
Rhymed Stanzas In Southern Dialect
Key Lines
"No Blankits Ner Ice In The City!"—
I Heard 'Em Say That From My Bed—
An' Somc Cried, "Oh, God! Who'll Take Pity
On The Dyin' That Soon'll Be Dead?"
Fer Yer See John, 'Em Folks Ter The Nor'ward
Hed Heard Us Afore We Cail'd Twice
An' They Sent Us A Full Cargo Forward
Of Them Much Needed Blankits An' Ice!
But, John, I Get Onder That Kiver,
That God Blessed Gift O' The Yanks,
An' It Sav'd Me Frum Fording' "The River,"
An' I'm Prayin'em Ocean O' Thanks!
It's Our Brotherly Love Thet'il Speak In Us
An' Fetch Us Together In Storm;
We May Snarl About "Nigs An' Franchises,"
But Whenever Thar's Sufferin' Afoot—