Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1875-06-02
an Memorian..
MEMORIAL ORATION,
Delivered in Granite Hall, Augusta, Decoration
Day, May 3lst, 1875, by
Major John D. Myrick
OF F1TCHBURG, MASS.

Day, May 3lst, 1875, by
Major John D. MyriCk
OF FITCHBURG. MASS.
Every human soul, attuned to sympathy with
the Infinite has its seasons of blissful communion
with the Invisible and Divine, when forgetting its
weariness its trials and its sorrows, it is uptted
to higher, clearer atmosphere, bathes in the
pure, sunlight Of Gods eternal love. and
catches glimpses Of the celestial and immortal, as
through the opening gateways of heaven
And to him who with proper, appreciative spirit,
| with heart quickened by consciousness OF the
presence of the Almighty, joins in the solemnties
of the occasion, Memorial Day" is such season,
filed with sweet, holy recoections Of the past,
which come floating in upon US, as Gods silent
benedictions waited down upon our waiting
souls from the bending skies above. There is some
key note in every mans nature, which, when touch
ed by tender memories, vibrates with responsive
harmony through all his nmost consciousness and
being. What thoughts, what recollections can
awaken the slumbering echoes in our souls like
those called up by the impressive exercises OF this
day What a food of melody should our hearts
pour forth to the great All Father who has brought
us thus together! of devout gratitude and thanks
giving for the mercy which has preserved us to
this hour of deep, manly love for those who
shared with us the perils and privations Of a hun
dred bloody fields martial strains from proud
remembrances of seige and fight of fiery charge
and deadly assault of fierce attack and staggering
repulse ;-softly breathing drge-like strains for
the brave and true who fell at our side amid the
wild wreck and tumult of battle. And we should
feel awed to solemn silence, for those hallowed
memories make the spot whereon we tread conse-
Grated, holy ground If there be a comrade here
present whose whole being is not thrilled by tho
echoes which to-day come floating down to US from
the eternal shores, would that some word of mine
might reach and touch his nmost heart till he felt
the sweet consciousness OF divner presence in
our midst, so that permeated, filled with the
blessed spirit Of reunion-reunion of the past and
present, Of dream and vision, of promise and full
fruiton, of the living and the Conceive might all
of US go hence with our manhood strengthened,
with good resolutions confirmed, with faith in God
and Humanity quickened and vivified, and with
heart and soul cheered and terminated fol the
toll and struggles and disappointments of life.
How all our thoughts and fondest recollectons
are turning back at this hour to those DAYS of
feverish excitement, of swelling hope and anxious
tear-those days Of herculean effort and mortal
strife; those days of proud achievement and grand
realization; those illustrious days of victory and
triumph!
the past, sweeping up with blended bugle calls and
all the legends of bivouac and battle see the
darkening thunder cloud IN early spring in the
Southern sky, growing blacker and more and more
portentous; the launch OF the dread thunderbolt
of war, and how with one red, lurld flare the
lightning stretched its horrid wing from ocean to
ocean, and the rolling thunders reused million
freemen to arms! the swift flight of a fiery meteor
through the sky, scattering firebrands and destruc
tion and death, and untold horrors over the land
The farmer leaves his plough in the furrow, the
artisan his hammer and his changing anvil, the mer
chant his wares and merchandise. the student his
books, the professional man his office. From field
and forest, and inland river from shore and noun
tain side, and Western plain, they come, breasting
the awful storm ard fronting the appalling shock
of civil war.
As in the old heroic age the Spartan mother
gave his shield to her eldest born, and with tear.
less eye and steady voice, sent him forth with the
stern injunction "either tciM this or upon 1t, so
in this later more illusrious era the loyal mothers
of the North as they girded their sons for battle
sternly bade them to do or die, to save the | Mon
and our Liberties or perish with them; and with
firm, stout hearts, and a smile of loving, yearning
tenderness, which iradiated q mans soul through
many a weary night of dark disaster and defeat,
sent them out to fight for God and Fatherland. l
see the multitud:nous camps, stretching mile on
mile away, like some stately, grand metropolis,
with their white canvass tents glistening in the
MONDAY sun, the starry ensign proudly floating
over ALL or glimmering, weird and spectral in the
pale, dim moonlight; the numberess campfres,
cleaning like beacOns, clear and still, as they
twinkle in the frosty winter air on hillside and
from forest depths. There rises up before me the
silvery mist which hovers DER Potomacs tide, the
soft, blue dreamy haze which floats like veil
over the bright green hills of Maryland. All ,
when were ever skies so blue, or sun so golden
hearts SO warm, souls so loyal and so true; when
fair and beautiful as in that mellow autumn sea-
son. l see again the flame and smoke of combat
covering as with cloud the embattled hosts who
fight beneath the murky canopy of death; hear
the terrible grumble and roar OF the conflct the
fercely surging billows of war, now rolling onward
with majestic power, and now remorselessly hurled
back covered with the wreck and ruin of disastrous
failure and discontinue, engulfng thousands Of our
bravest and best, and shaking the mighty fabric of
the government to its very centre. see the great
hos italc hei fhOusands n blPp1InU
brought from smouderng, sanguinary fields, every
spot where man can lie covered with manned and
mangled herosm, angels of mercy lowering over
the couChes of wounded and dying men, minister
inc to their needs and wants, and speeding the
departing spirit OH the wings of faith and prayer
Still rise those mingled memories of JOY and
sadness. To-day and all this presence fade and
vanish. Back to me comes that past, that grand
and solemn past, peopling this great hall with
myrad visions OF bygone days. Into these ai-les
and by your sides shadowy forms are gathered,
and seem to greet lis with messages from the eter-
nal camping grounds The comrades who pined
and wasted, and passed away on the hospitals
feversh pallet or died blessing the old flag in the
prison pens of Salisbury and Andersonyille; the
brother who fell exhausted by the wayside; he
who was with us as we crushed and trampled UNI
der foot the solid phalanx cf the enemy in the
magnificent and deadly charge and all, all are
here, reunited for one blest hour of sweet COM
munion, the living and the dead,-those whose
transcendent valor bore them upward through the
agony of their glory, and you whose peerless dai-
lug carried our standards in the foremost front of
battle to the very gates of Richmond! All how
well, too, we remember that bright, sweet Sabbath
morn at Appomattox, when, covered all ovei with
glory, though humbled in defeat, sustained by
proud consciousness Of heroic effort though beaten
and conquered compelling admiration from the
vctors for their matchless endurance and heroism,
even while they laid down their arms in surrender
beneath the old tiag,-the gallant army of North
crn Virginia, with manly tears and soldierly sor-
row, reverently folded their banners, and the
noblest and bravest and truest among them sought
there to honorably bury them from mortal sight
forever-that joyful morning, when we beheld as
from Pisgah's height, the frution and the crown
ing glory Of our four years perseverance and
sacrifice!
To-day we met in yonder consecrated city Of the
dead, that beautiful resting place of so many true,
devoted heroes, who toed and suffered and
fought and bled and at last laid down their lives
in behalf of the Union and the old flag. We
should stand there, with uncovered, reverenuy
bowed heads, with hearts filed with deepest dcvo-
tion for the place where they lie is holy ground.
Camping under the stars,
Tented meath swelling sod,
The host of martyrs sleep,
Waiting the trump of God"
L.I1N aI.at