The weekly Oskaloosa herald. [volume] (Oskaloosa, Iowa) 1855-1885, 1876-10-05
EXTRACT FROM BOB INGERSOLL'S
SPEECH TO SOLDIERS AT
INDIANAPOLIS.

The past rises before me
like dream. Again we are in the great
struggle for nationaflife. We hear the
sounds of preparatiOn-the music of the
boisterous drums-the silver voices of
heroic bugles. We see thousands of as
semblages, 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 whisperings and the sweet VOWS of
eternal love as they lingeringly part for
ever. Others are bending over cradles,
kissing babies that are asleep. Some are
receiving the blessings of old men. Some
are parting 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 standing in
the door, with the babe in her arms,-
standing in the sunlight sobbing-at the
turn of the road a hand waves,-she
answers by holding high in her loving
hands the child. Heis gone, and for
ever.
We see them all as they march proudly
away under the Haunting flags, keeping
time to the wild, grand music of war;
marching down the streets of the great
ties,-through the towns and across the
prairies,-down to the fields of glory, to
do and to die for the eternal right
We go with them one and all. We are
by their side on all the CORY fields,-in all
the hospitals of pain,-on all the weary
marches. We stand guard with them in
in the wild storm and under the quiet
stars. We are with them n.ravines run
ming with blood the burrows of old
fields. We are with them between con-
tending hosts, unable to move, wild with
thirst, the life ebbing slowly away among
the withered leaves. We see them pierced
by balls and torn with shells in the
trenches by forts, and the whirlwind of
the charge, where men become 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 sorrow. We
see the silvered 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 hounds tracking wo-
men through tangled swamps. We see
babes sold from the breasts of mothers.
Cruelty unspeakable Outrage infinite!
Four million bodies in chains-four
million souls in fetters. All the sacred
relations of wife, mother, father, and
child trampled beneath the brutal feet of
might. And all this was done under our
own beautiful banner of the free.
The past rises before us. We hear the
roar and shrek of the bursting shell.
The broken fetters 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
school houses and books, and where all
was want, and crime, and cruelty, and
fetters, we see the faces of the free.
These heroes are 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 stain
less, under the solemn pines, the sad
hemlocks, the fearful willows, and the
embracing vines. They sleep beneath
the shadows of the clouds, careless alike
of the sunshine or of storm, each in the
wind Dwlcss palace of rest. Earth may
run red with other wars-they are al
peace. In the midst of battle, in the
roar of conflict, they found the serenity
of death. A voice-"Glory."l [ have
one sentiment for the soldiers living and
dead, cheers for the living aud tears fol
| the dead.