Volume XII
Number 16
September 16
1944
THE STATE
A Weekly Survey of North Carolina
Entered a. sccond-cla». matter. June 1. 1933. at the Poslomce at Ralelch. North Carolina, under the Act of March 3.
181».
Matt Ransom’s Eulogy
of Zebulon B. Vance
To our way of thinking, this oration by Senator Matt W. Ransom in
connection with the death of Senator Zchulon B. Vance is one of the
greatest speeches of its kind ever made.
It was delivered in the U. S. Senate Chamber January 19. 1895.
Our reason for publishing it is our belief that every true North Caro¬
linian will appreciate it and will want to preserve it. As you proceed
with the reading, we urge you to take especial note of the beautiful
phraseology, the masterly presentation of word-pictures, and the sin¬
cere appreciation of the life of one of the truly great men of our state.
The speech was a rather long one. so we have been obliged to delete
a few paragraphs, but we do not feel that this interferes with the
beauty of the oration in its entirety.
MR. PRESIDENT: The Senate
is asked to render its last
duties of honor and sorrow
to the memory of the Hon. Zebulon
Baird Vance, late a Senator from
North Carolina.
In this Chamber on the 16th day
of last April, two days after his
death, the Senate lighted its black
torches around the lifeless form of
that most honored and beloved son
of our State, and his mortal figure,
evered with the white (lowers of
ring and love, and hallowed by
the sacred devotions of religion,
passed amid tears like a shadow
from these portals forever.
His paternal and maternal an¬
cestors both were Revolutionary
patriots. I have often passed the
spot where he was born. The
“Vance homestead" was a large
frame building of the "olden time."
with broad stone chimneys, indica¬
tive of comfort and hospitality. It
stood near the French Broad River
and in the midst of the Blue Ridge
Mountains. Now the house has
been taken down and only a few
stones remain to mark the site
where it once was.
It was a place of beauty. In
front of it the river is smooth and
placid as a lake; above and below’,
it dashes and roars into a mountain
torrent, and you almost hear the
echoes of the ocean. Around it the
great mountains tower like giants,
and their dark forests are mirrored
in the deep blue blossom of the
stream. On this scene, amid sub¬
limity and beauty. Vance first be¬
held the light of heaven. From
this beautiful river, from these
sublime mountains, from neighbor¬
ing scenes, all bristling with heroic
and patriotic recollections, he re¬
ceived his first impressions. These
were the books from which he
.learned the lessons that were to
be the foundations of his illustrious
career.
I know but little of his boyhood,
but if the Senate w-ill pardon me. I
THE COVER PICTURE
Perfect peace and content¬
ment on the waters of Boguc
Sound, near Morehcad City.
Three handlincs being used
from the cabin roof of the boat,
and a rod and reel being used
by Bill Sharp, of the advertis¬
ing division. State Depart¬
ment of Conservation and
Development. We don't know
the names of the owners of the
dangling legs. In case you’re
interested, the fishing was
good. (Photo by Heinmer.)
will speak of an incident that illus¬
trates his character.
In the canvass of 1872 I was
with Governor Vance in the moun¬
tain counties of our State. Passing
from Asheville over the mountains
to Burnsville, we made a short
stop at the home of Nehcmiah
Blackstock. not far from Ivy Creek.
Squire Blackstock was nearly
eighty years of age and his good
wife was but little younger. He
had been the surveyor of Bun¬
combe County for more than forty
years. I shall never forget the
meeting of Governor Vance and
that venerable couple. They fell
on each other's necks — they em¬
braced and wept. They had not
met for years before. The con¬
versation w’as short, not a half-
hour long, and consisted mainly
of reminiscences. Vance, when a
boy. had lived with the old |x*ople
and attended a country school close
by. Mrs. Blackstock. beaming with
joy, asked him if he remembered
the scenes of his schoolboy days
and vividly depicted his wild, w’ay-
ward mischief, his frolics, his
pranks, his visits to the orchards,
his raids upon the watermelons,
his practical jokes, his olfenses to
the teacher, and many similar
aberrations.
When old Mr. Blackstock. with
a benignant smile, said: "Well,
you may say what you will about
Zeb: he was a mighty bad boy and
hard to control, but he had one
redeeming quality that made up
for all his faults. Zeb would tell
the truth. When you missed your
eggs that you wanted so much for
the preacher, and were so mad that
they were gone, and all the boys
denied everything about them. Zeb
came up like a man and told that
he took them, but he would not
tell who helped him eat them.
He would always tell the truth’’—
i
