Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1872-06-04


of soldiers since deceased have been
inscribed upon it, and there are be-
sides number of others yet to be
thereon engraved. A low fence COM
posed of chains connected by marble
posts surrounds the entire work
Outside of this gravel walk ; with
in, an inviting tho some what neglect
ed grass pat.
Standing in the northeast corner
of the court house square, the monu-
ment rises a mutely eloquent remind.
or of the most fearful and bloody
epoch Through which our country
has passed since the stormy days
that gave it existence. 1t tells OF
battle-telds in sunny region far
away, where hundreds of the best
citizens of our county fought and
persisted; of graves wherein their
bones have long been moldering-
graves undecorated save by Nature
kindly and consoling hand. 1t tells
of prison-pens in which so many lam
guished until friendly death released
them from an existence ten fold more
wretched and miserable than
the weariest and most loathed worldly life
That ache, age, penury, and Imprisonment
Can lay on nature;
of vacant places in many a household;
of sorrow-crushed hearts Of lives
that were blighted in their early May
time, and will therefore never bloom
again. Strangers coming to our VIII
lage gaze mournfully and reverently
upon the memorial marble, and even
those who look upon it every day are
as deeply as ever impressed with its
solemn significance. We are remind
ed of the precious blood that flowed
so freely during those long dark
years of civil carnage, and we are
prompted to ask, Did those life.
streams flow in vain ? and was the
work that cost the nation so many
noble lives failure or farce? The
two great National Conventions soon
TO be held will speak with no uncer-
tain tones In reply to these vital
questions. Be that as it may, how
ever, this much now is pretty certain
Those Of our fellow. citizens who
fought in freedoms holy war, and
whose names are craven 10 yoDder
marble VIII never be forgotten. The
memorial pile which has been raised
in their honor will serve to remind
coming generations that we Of to-day
admired the heroism and knew how
to fifty honor the daring and brave-
ry of those whs rallied round the
starry flag when "bloody treason
flourished Ger u.s." and who secured
for our country her present exalted
rank among all the progressive ma
tons of the globe.
AT about half past one o'clock Ma or
Rountree rose and called the assem-
bly, to order, after which the Rev. S.
w. Eaton delivered an earnest and
eloquent prayer. This was followed
by the admirable and effective read
ing by the Hon. A. r. Bushnell, of
fine and fitting original poem, the
production Of Mr.. @. N Holford, Of
this village. This poem, Published be-
low, was foundry the members of the
Decorating Committee, to be the best
which had been otfere4! for their crit
zeal examination, albeit several other
illusions of more than mediocre ex-
eellence commended with it for the
palm of publicity. Here are the lines :
POEM.
Bring the brightest flowers Of our northern May,
o surviving comrades, to deck TO day
The memorial stones of the Naoa's dead;
Be the brightest words to thelr memory said,
That we may recall, for bright, brief time.
Their achievements high and their fate sublime.
Let us then regret that we can do more,
That our flowers will fade ere the day is DER;
Ii our words were bright and rs sweet as flowers,
They should pass from mind with the passing hours
They are dim in mind-all those years of dread.
As vague, wild dream Of the night that's fled.
They are passing slowly from mental view
All those missing lorms in their garb of blue.
Let us max tor them this Easter day,
From the dead Pasts grave roll the stone away.
let US sing AS they used those old raliying rhymes
Tell the old tales DER OF those strange wild times
When the Nations life in the balance hung
And those precious lives in the scale flung
They wers thrown, and lost, but the Land saved
On those marble shafts the names engraved
or the noble dead of Grant COunty's braves;
But how many sleep in their distant graves
Some in lonely spots by the way we're laid,
Or ia cotton heds where the camp was msde;
Some in long, low ridges that dunby tell
Where the fight was hercest and hundreds ell.
Scores are sleeping there ia one common grave,
Aud that grave unle:tered and unmarked save
By the battle the gray-green wood
Mid the rain Of missiles that sernly stood,
When the leaden cones they fercely dew
Carved the epitaphs of the men they slew.
Down by yicksbsrgs cane-brakes and cliffs of clay.
Mid the swamps aud sand-hiils round Mobile Bay,
From the Ozark hills to the swamp stained dow
OF the broad Savannah thro' rice fields low,
From the heights of Arlington fortress crown'd
10 the Texan prairies these graves found.
We're they slain in bood-all those martyred ones
Mid tue shock Of steel aud the cash of guns
Did the heavy saber aud Minnie bali
And tue shattered she'd fill the graves of allg
No. the weary marches and winter storms
Wore the life from out many youthful forms;
And disease in many a direfu; shape
$ ew its thousands who from the fight made scape:
Aud the silent sweep Of miasmas breath
Brought a sursr, though more lingrin death
From the marshy rivers through all the south
Than the iron breath OF the cannon mouth.
In the canvass wallis where the red dag waved
Men in weak less dropped OF in fever raved-
How they moaned and pined thro' the long, long d.
Ia the stagnant air and the suns fierce blaze!
How they longed TO dip fevered lip and hand
In some COOL bright spring OF the far North land,
Like the captive Jews on Assyrias plain,
Mid the weary hours Of their wearing pain,
When twas morn they said. "Woud to God twere
night''
And those prison pens oh, how poor and weak
Are the words we write aud the words speak,
To relate that story SO dark and long
OF unmeasured misery, deep, foul wrOngi
Let draw the veil. for may not brook
For those deep, dark horrors longer look
Twas in part the ransom the dead BOYS paid
For the Nations life, when their graves were made.
How dependence weighed on the dropping men
And the homesick boys W no should ne er again
See the homes they left when their hearts beat high
And they saw all fair where their way should liel
In their youthful fancy twas but to 10
Far away from our nor thern land of snow
To the sunny South" with its soft bright glow
Where the orange trees and magnolas blow.
Twas to march away to a field of fame
There 20 gain in battle a deathless name
Where our heroes fought in a gorgeous throng
And in all was romance and battle song.
But they found these pictures that fancy drew
Soon toned with colOrs of darker hue;
Smeared with blood and dust were Ahe blouses blue
And the music hushed when the ffeEce shells flew.
For they went aot forth from their boyhoOd's home
In land of glory and trance to roam,
But 10 hunger, thirst and the pestilence-br breath,
And privatons sore, and danger and death
Say, how many went nor returned again.
There went forth two thousand, two hundred men
From old Grant; one third, those marbles tell,
In the four long years Of the time fell