The Fremont weekly journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County, Ohio) 1867-1877, 1870-06-10
DECORATION AT ANDERSON
WILLIE.
Speech of Chaplain Collier.

WHICH II IS &tlOFneti, anu Tie puIltA
Of the sentiments it expresses.
Mr.. President Comrades, Ladies
and Gentleman ] would better
mees the duties o. my own feelings
if l were to remain silent; if were
to pass among the silent graves and
stand in the presence of the noble
men who have suffered so much for
our country. When the question
was started at the city of Washing
ton. can these graves be decorated?
and rs the question has often been
asked in the far North, is it possible
to decorate all these graves? | ans
wered that we would place at least
one flower upon the grave of each
hero at Andersonville. Then the
objection was made that it was too
far. 1t was said there was no one
whose heart would be responsive to
the call, and there would none gather
there. l am glad in this sacred pre-
sence to-day-surrounded as l am
by the Governor Of the State by the
soldiery, by the citizens-I am glad
to-day to recognize the fact that this
even in Georgia, is not true. may
as well say here, that while consult
ing Governor Bullock upon this sub
iect, he said TO me, 'If you come to
this State, We will not only render
YOU all the assistance that we can,
| but believe that we can pledge the
people that they will make the serv-
ices such as they ought to be- l
am proud to say here to-day that
that pledge has been MOST fully re-
deemed.
] hold iD my hand the manuscript
that peuned in my study, at home
in The loysl State of Ohio. The
standard of the manuscript is not
the standard ofthe feelings that burn
in nv heart at this hour 1t seems
to me that there is a sacred presence
here to-day OF the grand army of
1900 strong who are encamped
around us in silent array. 1t seems
to me that this sacred presence
awakens in our hearts an inspiration
that makes the occasion peculiarly
solemn and peculiarly glorious.
We are assembled in this strange
city of the dead to perform sad and
sacred duty. Homage paid to the
illustrious dead who have fallen in
their country's service, has been re-
cognized as just to the dead, and
honorable to the living.
Il was said on the Both of May,
last year, "of the many public de
monstrations to-day, none can equal
'in solemIity that at the National
Cemetery at Arlington near Wash
ington. We admit the peculiar
Importance of the great city of the
dead, with its twenty-five thousand
silent inhabitants, with over two
thousands whose names are even un-
known on the records of the dead,
but are cherished by a grateful
country and loving friends.
Andersonville has become one of
the most important National Gene
teries on the continent.
There is a book lying at my feet
"a book of simple names. 1t is not
a book of deeds-it is not a book
that contains the burdens of these
hearts. 1t does not contain the bur
dens of the loved ones at home; it
simply contains the names Of the
martyred dead whose sacred presence
is about us to-day,
From this book containing the
names of the dead, we learn that al
most every language, country, city,
village and town, has its represent
atives. The farmer from his prairie
home in the West, or from his wood
land clearing in the North, from the
shop, the store, from the schools
and the mines; all classes and climes
miDgle together here.
If at this hour communications
could be opened with the sorrowing
hearts of parents and children, of
wives and friends; and if by any
means their rich floral offerings
could descend upon this sacred spot
the air would be filed with sweet
odor, and the ground for beauty
would be as the garden Of the Lord.
On this National Memorial day
many fathers and mothers will place
bright flowers upon the graves of
their sons. Many widows, with
their orphan children, will linger at
the sacred spot that contains the
sacred dust ofthe brave husband and
father. To lie is confded the sacred
duty Of honoring these dead, as
they have hOnored their country, in
the name of their distant loved ones
and their comrades in arms. We
come to deck the graves of the noble
men endured as well as dared.
If upon the blue sky above us
there could have been written, as
upon the book of the Angel of God
it is written, the terrible agony that
burned in the hearts of these men,
as the weary days and weeks passed
away, the burring sun above them,
the scorching sands beneath, the
hunger that gnawed their vitals as
the gaunt wolf gnaweth his prey, di-
sease that was poisoning all the
blood in their veins, with the heart
sick. and the pulse faint, in every
direction
thousand aching, breaking hearts, were
signing, sobbing here,
And thousands more, for hope was o'er-hRd
sunk in calm despair.
And some were dying, some were dead, and
some With maniaos rave
Called for the dreamlesS sleep IF death-the
quiet of the grave;
The husband wandered back again, in fancy,
to his home,
And heard q sweet voice often ask, "When
will father Gomez"
He saw the tear on her pale cheek-the mother
Of his child,
He vainly strove to sta t, to speak, but only
wept and smiled
Unsheltered and unfed, there lay the widows
only son;
No hope beamed in his sunken eye while dy-
ing there alone.
But still he breathed the name he loved, and
then he tried to pray
That God would gently deal with her, dear
mother, far away
And O, the ftful, feverish dreams OF home, and
love and JOY.
He saw the spot where once he played when
he was but boy;
II saw the cot where he was born-so beauti-
ful it seemed;
He ouly walked to weep again Ger hopes for
ever fed,
For well he knew that morning light would
find him with the dead.
"Jesus," he cried, remember me; let thy Uu-