One hundred and fifty years ago today on November 27, 1863 Confederate Scout Sam Davis of Smyrna, Rutherford County, Tennessee rode atop his coffin from the jail to the scaffold in Pulaski where he was hanged as a spy by order of Union General G.M. Dodge.
The night before, when the verdict of hanging was delivered to Sam in his jail cell, his reply was, "I do not mind dying. But it makes me mad that I am to die as a spy, and not to be shot as a prisoner of war."
Chaplain James Young of the 81st Ohio Infantry stayed with Sam through that long night and did not leave him until the end. Sam shared with the chaplain stories of his home, family, and his horse War Bonnet, whom he hoped would find a kind master in the ranks to which he would be passed. The young lad wrote a final letter to his parents expressing his love for his family and ending with instructions as to how they could retrieve his body. Sam asked Chaplain Young to cut the 20 large and six small buttons from his overcoat to send to his mother. The condemned lad expressed his desire that the chaplain have his overcoat.
Together they prayed and Sam asked the chaplain to join him in singing a hymn that his mother had taught her children when they gathered around the piano in the parlour. Their voices joined in song.
On Jordan's stormy banks I stand, and cast a wishful eye
To Canaan's fair and happy land where my possessions lie.
I am bound for the promised land, I am bound for the promised land.
Oh, who will come and go with me? I am bound for the promised land.
By the end, the tearful jailer had joined their chorus.
In her book Full Many a Name: The Story of Sam Davis, Mabel Goode Franz sets the scene:
"The day was one of those soft Indian Summer ones that come just before they are merged as memories into winter; golden sunshine and blue sky; rich backdrop of nature's choicest glory, amber and gold and ruby leaves. The smell of loam, the heart of earth in the air."
As the procession moved towards the scaffold, Union soldiers lined the way pleading with Sam as he passed simply to give up the name, to stop this process, to go home again and live a long life with his family. Head high, Sam rode on paying no heed to their urgings.
At the gallows Sam was offered a last chance to save himself if he would but name the informant from whom he obtained papers concerning federal troop movements in Middle Tennessee that were found in his boot when he had been captured by Union soldiers eight days earlier. But divulging his source, endangering the life of a comrade, going back on his word, even to save his life, was never a consideration for the courageous, youthful patriot. Sam gave his final reply to the offer:
If I had a thousand lives, I would lose them all before I would betray my friends or the confidence of my informer.
"I am ready."
With those words and the springing of the trap, Sam was transported to the Promised Land and into immortality of Spirit for his fellow statesmen, who would forever remember him as The Boy Hero of the Confederacy.
Franz notes in her book, "At the time of the execution, the laws of the United States prohibited a sentence of death by the judgment of a military commission such as tried Davis, to be executed until it had been approved by the President. In direct violation to these statutes of the United States, Davis was illegally hung without President Lincoln ever approving the sentence, or having an opportunity to do so."
The boyhood home of Sam Davis near Smyrna is now an historic site open to the public. In addition to daily guided tours The Sam Davis Home hosts educational programs and charitable events in support of the community throughout the year. The home is often decorated with seasonal themes. October finds it in black banners of mourning while ghost stories are shared with the believing; local greenery livens the atmosphere for the holidays. 
Sam has taught generations the greatest lesson of the Southern experience: Death before dishonour.
Today we honour the memory of Sam Davis and his sacrifice and thank him for the lesson he taught us.
Let us never forget.
