Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1876-10-02
An Eloquent Outburst.

When Col. Ingersol faced his old comrades,
the Boys in Blue, at the Indianapolis convention,
the inspira ton of the occasion caused him to give
impromptu utterance to the following eloquent,
touching and pathetic passage. 1t proves him to
be natural born orator Of the highest order. He
was recalling the scenes Of the war, and said;
1.-THE past rises before me like dream. Again
we are in the great struggle for National life. We
hear the sounds Of preparation-the music OF the
bosterous drums-the silver voices of heroic bu.
giles. We see thousands Of assemblages, and
hear the appeals Of orators; we see the pale
cheeks of women, and the flushed faces Of men
and in those assemblages we see all the dead
whose dust we have covered with flowers. We
lose sight of them no more. We are with them
when they enlist in the great army OF freedom.
We see them part from those they love. Some are
walking for the last time in quiet, woody places
with the maidens they adore. We hear the whs-
perings and the sweet vows of eternal love as
they lingeringly part forever. Others are bend
ing over cradles, kissing babies that are asleep.
Some are receiving the blessings of old men.
Some are parting with those who hold them and
press them to their hearts again and again. and
say nothing; and some are talking with wives,
and endeavoring with brave words spoken in the
old tones to drive from their hearts the awful
fear. We see them part. We see the wife stand
ing n the door, with the babe in her arms
standing in the sunlight sobbing.-at the turn Of
the road hand waves,-she answers by holding
high in her loving arms the child. lie Is gone,
and forever.
We see them all as they march proudly away
under the Haunting flags, keeping time TO the
wild, grand music Of wsr,-marching down the
streets of the great cities, Through the towns
and across the prairies, down to the fields Of
glory, to do and to die for the eternal right.
We 20 with them one and all. We are by their
side on all the CORY felds,-n all the hospitals Of
p,n,-on all the weary marches. We stanu guard
with them in the wild storm and under the quiet
stars. We are with them in ravines running with
bloQd,-in the burrows Of old fields. We are with
them between contendlng hosts, unable to move,
am ing the wither.d leaves. We see them pierced
by balls and torn with shells in the trenches by
forts, and in the whirlwind Of the charge, where
men became iron, with nerves Of steel.
We are with them in the prisons of hatred and
famine: but human speech can never tell what
they endured.
We are at home when the news comes that they
are dead. We see the maiden in the shadow Of
her first sor ow. We set the silyered head of the
old man bowed with the last grief.
The past rises before us and we see four millions
Of human beings governed by the lash; we see
them bound hand and foot; we hear the strokes
of cruel whips; we see the hound. tracking wc.
men through tangled swamps. We see babes
sold from the breasts Of mothers. Cruelty I'M
speakable Outrage infinite!
Four million bodies in chains-four million
souls in letters. All the sacred relations of wife,
mother, father and child are trampled beneath the
brutal feet of might And all this was done un-
der our own beautiful banner Of the free.
The past rises before us. We hear the roar
and shrek of the bursting shell. The broken fet-
tiers fall. These heroes died. We look. Instead
Of slaves we see men, and women and children.
The wand Of progress touches the auction block.
the slave pen, the whipping post, and we see
homes and fresides, and schoohouses and books,
and where all was want, and crime and cruelty
and letters, we see the faces Of the free.
These heroes arc dead. They died for liberty /;
they died for us. They are at rest. They sleep
in the land they made free, under the flag they
rendered stainless, under the solemn pines, the
sad hemocks, the fearful willows and the embrace
ing vines. They sleep beneath the shadows of
clouds, careless alike Of the sunshine or Of Storm
each in the windowless palace of rest Earth may
run red with other wars-they are at peace. In
the midst Of battle, in the roar Of conflict, they
found the entity of death A voice-''Glory."
have one sentiment for the soldiers living aud
dead-cheers for the living and tears for the dead.