To awaken greater interest in what, however estimated, Mississippians have accomplished in the field of literature, to provoke research into even its remote and unfrequented corners; and, chiefly, to place more prominently before the people of his much-loved State a poet too little known, is the double purpose of this essay.

The poet needs no introduction and offers no apology on his entrance into the domain of history; for he is no intruder there, entitled indeed to a place of honor in the proudest capitol of that noble realm. Homer precedes Herodotus and makes his record doubly valuable. The poet is in fact the maker in large measure of the history of the world. Through his entrancing and inspiring voice the aspirations of humanity have been elevated, ideals lofty in thought and deed have been constantly upheld, and will to dare and do the utmost in the cause of liberty and righteousness has been imparted in the hour of need. In the poet's verse we read, as nowhere else, the inner throbbing life of man. High or low his ascent of Parnassus, his words have a charm for us, if the Muse has bidden him welcome; and the nearer he is to us the more apt he will be to express our peculiar griefs and joys in his melodious strains.

Hence, it is with pleasure, that the claims of Mississippi's "Backwoods Poet" to our affection and appreciation are now presented. Perhaps he is not the greatest of the thirty or forty that might be named who in our State have as poets achieved more or less local distinction. He modestly disclaimed such honor, and assumed himself the title of "Backwoods Poet" which has been given him. S. Newton Berryhill, of Choctaw (now Webster) county, Mississippi, is his proper name. He was born October 22, 1832, and died Dec. 8, 1887.

In the preface of his poems these significant facts are stated:

"While I was yet an infant, my father with his family settled down in a wilderness, where I grew up with the population, rarely ever going out of the neighborhood for forty years. The old log school house, with a single window and a single door, was my alma mater, the green woods was my campus."

Yet what he learned in the log school house and the woods and by subsequent private study would put to shame very many who have enjoyed far better educational advantages; especially, when the further disadvantage under which he labored is considered. Early in life he became the victim of a serious spinal affection, which rendered him a confirmed invalid, unable the remainder of his days to stand upon his feet. Despite all these, to an ordinary man, crushing limitations, he became fairly proficient in Latin, French, German, and music, in addition to a thorough knowledge of the usual high school course in English, science, and mathematics.

To teaching, journalism, and literature he devoted his life. After a long and creditable career as teacher near his country home, during which time most of his poetry was written, he moved, about 1875, to Columbus, Mississippi. In the dingy office of the old Columbus Democrat, the writer first saw this unquestionably remarkable man. Cushioned in his wheel chair, before a desk, busy with his pen, Mr. Berryhill, the editor, saw not how closely he was observed, nor the look of pity he might have read in his beholder's face for one so handicapped in the race of life. But as the massive, thinly covered head was raised, and the dauntless, lofty spirit of the man shone from the dark and deep-set eyes; as the almost cheerful expression of his pallid countenance was revealed,—pity gave way to wonder and admiration, which grew yet more with further knowledge of the man and his achievements against odds apparently so overwhelming. How respectfully on bright Sundays when he could venture out, he was lifted in his chair by friends up the double flight of steps to the audience room of the church and rolled down the aisle to the place near the pulpit, sympathetic glances following him the while, is a picture, too, not soon to be forgotten.

During his stay in Columbus he was elected County Treasurer, which office he filled acceptably two years. In 1880 he returned to Webster county, where, as has been stated, he died, Jan. 8, 1887. Little else, for the lack of information, except that he was a Methodist and a Mason, can be said of the life and character of Mr. Berryhill. What more is given must be gathered from his writings in an inferential way, which for this purpose and for their literary merit, will repay the examination now proposed.

The editorials, sound, progressive, and patriotic, must be laid aside. The rather crude but racy character sketches, Indian legends, and miscellaneous short stories, written in part during his quiet closing years, must, also, more regretfully be left unnoticed for lack of time. His poetry is the work he prized most highly, and by it his place in literature should be determined.

From boyhood, he was irrepressibly poetic. The spirit of the woods and hills early descended on him, giving his eye unwonted keenness in discerning the beauty that surrounded him, and his ear unwonted delicacy in detecting the melody that floated in every breeze. Romantic stories of their better days told him by neighboring friendly Choctaws took deep root in his youthful fancy and bore fruit in his prose and verse.

In 1878 his poems written during the forty years previous were published at Columbus in a volume entitled "Backwoods Poems." Political issues of very serious nature, not altogether settled, were then too absorbing a theme to Mississippians to permit them to pay much heed to poetry, however excellent. Hence, the work received less notice than otherwise it would. But one edition was ever published, and few copies of it can now be found.

What first strikes the reader as he turns the pages of this unpretentious little volume is the variety and uniform excellence of the versification. Under the circumstances, it was natural to suppose that this poet would attempt little else than the rhyming couplet and the ballad form of verse. Instead, stanzas varying greatly in length and rhyme order, with lines from two to six stresses, iambic and often trochaic in movement, usually well sustained, soon make a strong impression that no common poetaster has set the music to these verses.

As to length, not more than half a dozen of the two hundred twenty-six poems in the collection contain more than one hundred lines. The longest and leading poem, called Palila, is a metrical version of a favorite Choctaw legend, numbering one thousand tetrameter lines. This pathetic story of an Indian maiden and her ill-starred gallant lover and the upshooting by the medicine spring of the little flower the pale-face calls the lady's slipper, but known to red men as Palila's Moccasin, is told with dramatic effect, and has the atmosphere of freedom and wildness befitting a tale so weird and sad. Bare mention of two or three other rather lengthy poems, such as "A Heart's History," and "The Vision of Blood," will be made, principally to call attention to the excellence of the blank verse in which they are written; its ease, accuracy, and vigor are readily perceived.

The shorter poems may be conveniently classed as anacreontic, humorous, patriotic, descriptive, and personal. Many of them, as the author admits, especially those of his youth, are crude and imperfect, but he explains in a personally suggestive way that he could not cast out these poor children of his brain on account of their deformity, and craves indulgence where approval or applause must be withheld.

The poems of love and humor have little value except for the light they throw on the poet, who, though deprived of nearly all the heart holds dear in life, could yet fully sympathize with youth in its joys and smile genially even on its follies. A few stanzas from two or three poems in his lighter vein, of which there are quite a number, will be sufficient to indicate the sunny side of the poet's nature. First, a little rustic picture:

Another with a touch of humor will next be given:

Even in parody the isolated sufferer would at times seek self-forgetfulness or diversion. A short one is here inserted from the author's scrap-book. To a Southerner, the faithfulness and humor of the selection will be manifest:

In the patriotic poems, chiefly war lyrics, notes louder, harsher, and even bitter in their tone as the cause seems lost, strike clear and full upon the ear, disclosing their author as one of the "fire eaters" of the South, loth to accept the verdict of the sword and submit to reconstruction. In this gathering, apart from their connection with the author, two or three of these poems no doubt will be interesting for their historical value alone. "The Storm," written April 15, 1861, expresses in borrowed form but with graphic power the terrible suspense that then prevailed:

"The Vision of Blood" written in 1864 is too long, and even if not, too lurid in its imagery to justify reproduction now. Instead let us take this glimpse into those days of death and disaster to the South:

The lines on Sheridan and Butler express something more than the poet's righteous indignation at deeds by them in which he can somehow see neither virtue nor valor. As indicative of the feelings of the South in the hour of final defeat and subjugation read "Daughters of Southland" and "My Motherland." One stanza of the first must suffice:

How tender and ardent is the patriotism in these lines:

Whether he spoke for his section in these disdainful and defiant lines, descriptive of times just after the war, each may decide for himself:

But it is in the poems personal and descriptive that we get close to this poet's heart. There will be found what gave most solace to his circumscribed and lonely life. In nature as she was most attractive to him, and in lines to loved ones young and old, plaintive often but never rebellious or morose, the placid, self-restrained, yet inspiring nature of the man is brought to clearest view. Fervid in his love for beauty, he bowed none the less devoutly at the shrine of duty.

"The Old School House," "The Deserted Home," "Autumn," "The Frost and the Forest," "My Castle," "Lines on the Death of My Father," "My Old Home," and the last poem "Unfinished," are representative of the class that best reflects the poet and the man; and by their pensive beauty perhaps take firmest hold upon the reader. It is difficult to offer satisfactory illustrations without being too lengthy; but these will prove at least suggestive:

The following poem can be given entire, as it is short:

Perhaps Mr. Berryhill's best known poem is one that is personal and yet quite fanciful. It can be found in Miss Clarke's "Songs of the South." Two or three stanzas will be sufficient:

Little remains to be said. This singular life, with an estimate of the quality and quantity of its work has been unfolded as faithfully as possible.

With greater interest, the dominant motive of the author, so frankly stated, may now be joined, without comment, to his mournful retrospect of his life work. The first is found in the lines from Mrs. Hemans inscribed on the title page of "Backwoods Poems."

This is his salutatory. In the closing stanza of the last poem "Unfinished," the retrospect is made, and his valedictory delivered thus:

To Hayne, Lanier, and Maurice Thompson, S. Newton Berryhill must yield in subtlety of melody and penetrative insight into nature's deeper meanings. Timrod and Ticknor in their war lyrics may, at times, have struck the martial chord with stronger and more dextrous hand; but it may still be justly claimed that the best of the "Backwoods Poems" compare favorably with much or even most of the work of these more famous Southern poets.

If in this paper this claim has been established, its purpose is abundantly fulfilled, and the "Backwoods Poet" in environment and achievement stands out a unique figure in the literature of the State.