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December 4, 1903 CAPTAIN DICKENSONPASSES AWAY PEACEFULLY At His Home In Lebanon After a Brief Illness.
Last Friday morning, November 27th, the people of Lebanon and surrounding country were shocked by the sad intelligence that Capt. H. H. Dickenson, whose illness was noted in our last issue, was no more.
On Monday previous he was suddenly stricken with what the physicians pronounced, performation of the stomach, and continued to grow worse until about 4:30 o'clock Friday morning, when, surrounded by family and friends, the end came.
The funeral servies, conducted by Rev. Dr. D. S. Hearon, assisted by Revs. Pearson, Thompson and Buckles, were held on Saturday at the M. E. Church, South, of which body he was a leading and a faithful member, after which he was interred in the cemetery, the burial ceremonies being performed by Lebanon Lodge A. F. & A. M., of which he was a devoted member.
Notwithstanding the inclemency of the weather, a large crowd was present at the funeral and burial.
Capt. Henry H. Dickenson was born May 23rd, 1837, in Russell county, Virginia where his life was spent, and with whose interests and people he was thoroughly identified. He was, at different times, engaged in farming and in the mercantile business, and was twice elected clerk of the county and circuit courts of his county, which position he filled with great satisfaction.
When Virginia seceded, and cast her lot with the confederacy, then a young man, he volunteered his services and organized Company A, 29th Virginia Infantry of Volunteers, of which he was elected Captain, and which he led throughout the war with great bravery and distinction. Coming out of the war at the age of 28, he was soon married to Miss Cornelia Quarles, with whom he lived happily until his death, and who, together with five children, three sons and two daughters, survive him.
Capt. Dickenson was one of the most widely known and popular men in the county, as well as one of the most useful, and his death is a severe blow, not alone to the town in which he lived, and which he loved, but to the whole country. He took a keen interest in all public matters, whether National, State, County or Municipal, and while he never assumed to be a leader in such things, he was recognized as such by all who knew him well. Innately honest and honorable, possessed by sound judgement, persistent and energetic, as a business man he was eminently successful and had accumulated quite a fortune. As a citizen he was patriotic and public spirited to a degree. As a friend he was loyal and true. As a soldier he was of the bravest of the brave. "No truer knight e'er drew a sword." Though vanquished he loved the lost cause, and could not speak of it without emotion. But, for him,
"No more shall the war cry sever,
Or the winding river be red."
He has answered the last roll call. He has "crossed over the river to rest under the shade of the trees."
"Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgement day,"
he is sleeping the sleep of the brave". Though scarcely more than three years of the allotted three score and ten remained to him, yet he wore well his years, and to family and friends he bid far to live yet many more. But,
"Leaves have their time to fall,
And stars to set - but all;
Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death!"
Yet, death found him ready, and he faced it like the soldier that he was, without a tremor, without a murmur. From the beginning of his sickness he realized that it was the end, and time and again he said, "It's all right; I am ready." Truly did he approach the grave, "Like one who wraps the mantle of his couch about him, and lies down to pleasant dreams." He "welcomed the grim tyrant death, and received him as a kind messenger sent from his supreme Grand Master to translate him from this imperfect that all perfect glorious and celectial Lodge above, where the Supreme Architect of the Universe in His glory presides.
While, at the grave God draws the line between the two eternities, and it is not given to mortal man to life the sombre veil of death and look beyond, yet, with such a life as this, with such simple resiquation, such sweet assurances 'oft repeated, with an end like his, why shall we fear for him the sleep of death, the unknown terrors of that starless night, the waves of the river Styx?
All day anxious ones gathered, with sad hearts, to look for the last time on the face of their dead friend, and thus to pay him their last tribute of respect. Nor wind, nor snow, nor bleak November's chill could keep them away. No higher tribute was ever paid to mortal man.
Loving hands tenderly laid him in the new-made grave, o'er which the gentle [...] of flakes, falling soft [...] white, sym[...] of his great spirit which had flown to the bosom of its God.
A long good-night to thee, dear friend, thy better part has found the better place; to that which is mortal and remains with us, we say Rest, Rest in Peace.
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