Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 2.
Frank Moore, Ed.

67. they call me a traitor now.

The following lines were suggested by seeing an old man intently gazing at the American flag, as it floated from the dome of one of the hotels in Memphis, Tenn. “I live,” said he, “in Mississippi, where they won't let that flag be raised, but I love that flag; I bore it through the Indian wars, and at New Orleans, under Gen. Jackson. I am sixty-nine years of age. I was born and raised in this State. My father, an old Revolutionary soldier, was one of the first settlers. My country has been very good to me, and gave me all I love. My country I love. I love Tennessee; I am sorry I ever left her. I want to live where that flag waves. I don't like the people of Mississippi; they call me a traitor now!”

I have borne that flag in former years
     To conquer a savage foe,
Whose ravaging deeds on our then frontier,
     Brought terror, and death, and woe;
And how we suffered 'mid toil and pain,
     'Tis history will tell you how,
Yet those whose peace those wars did gain,
     Can call me a traitor now!

I bore that flag in New Orleans,
     Which city's doom was thought
Beyond the power of patriot means
     Ere the glorious Eighth was fought;
But when I saw to the Stripes and Stars
     The British lion bow,
I little thought, in my grateful prayers,
     To be called a traitor now!

No pelican was heard of then;
     No moon's lone star was found;
No palmetto bush, with its shaggy stem,
     And the serpent coiled around; [63]
But the Stars and Stripes alone remained;
     And pray, can you tell me how
That he who bore that flag unstained,
     Can be called a traitor now?

Oh! had I remained in my native State,
     Where my chieftain's grave was made;
Or had I been doomed to a similar fate,
     And my bones near his been laid;
Or had he been spared for his country's good,
     I am sure he'd not allow
Those friends who in arms by him had stood
     Should be branded as traitors now.

But why, in my age, am I thus assailed?
     To my name why apply this stain?
Have I to my country ever failed,
     Or to society proved a bane?
No! no such charge or kindred crime
     Can be stamped on my furrowed brow;
But because rebellion I must decline,
     They call me a traitor now!

But ye, in my heart, I can't despair--
     My country, so free and pure,
Whose toils and triumphs I helped to share,
     For ages will yet endure.
When madmen cease and calm re-act,
     And reason their minds endow,
They'll then these cruel words retract
     That make me a traitor now.