The Emporia news. [volume] (Emporia, Kan.) 1859-1881, 1876-10-06
An EIOqueat OaIbarst

When Col. Ingersoll faced his oil d
comrades, the Boys in Blue, at the
Indianapolis Convention, the inspi-
ration of the occasion caused HIM
to give impromptu utterance to the
following eloquent, touching and
pathetic passage. We have never
read anything of the kind equal to
81. It proves him to be natural
born orator of the highest order.
He was recalling the scenes OF the
war, and said:
The past rises before me like a
dream. Again we are in the great
struggle for National life. We
hear the sound OF preparaiion-the
music of the boisterous drums
the silver voices of heroic bugles.
We see thousands OF Assem- bIages,
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
with those they love. Some are
walking for the last time in quiet
woody places with the maidens
they adore. We hear the whisper
ings aud the sweet vows of eternal
love as they lingeringly part forev-
er. 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. He Is gone, and forever.
We see them all AZ they march
proudly away under the Haunting
fags, keeping time TO the wild,
grand music OF war-marchibg
down the streets of the great cities
through the towns and across the
prairies-down to the fields of glo-
ry, to do and to die for eternal rig hit.
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 the wild
storm and under the quiet stars.
n g.,
ming with blood-in the burrows of
old fields. We are with them be-
tween contending hosts, unable TO
move, wild with thirst, the life eb
binR away among the withered
leaves. We see them pierced by
balls and torn with shells In the
trenches by forts, and in the whirl-
wind of the charge, where men be-
come iron, with nerves of steel.
We are with them in the prison
of hatred and famine, but human
speech can never tell what they en-
dured.
We are at home when the news
comes that they are dead. We see
the maiden in the shadow of her
fret sorrow. We see the siiVered
head Of the old man bowed with
the last grief.
The past rises before us, and we
see 4,0OOO00 OF human beings gov
erned by the lash; we SEE them
bound hand and foot; we hear the
strokes of the cruel whips; We see
the hounds tracking women through
tangled swamps; we see babes sold
from the breasts OF mothers. Cru
city unspeakablei Outrage infinite
-Four million bodies in chains
four million souls in letters. All
the sacred relations of wife, moth
er, father and child trampled be-
meath 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 aud shrek of the
bursting shell. The broken letters
fall. These heroes died. We look.
Instead of slaves we see men, aud
women, and children. The wand
of progress touches the auction
block, the slave-pen, the whipping
post, and we see homes and fire.
aides, and school-houses and books,
and where all was want, aud crime.
and cruelty, and letters, we see the
faces of the free.
These heroes are dead. They died
for hberty-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 hemlocks, the fearful
willows and the embracing vines
They sleep beneath the shadows Of the
clounds, 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 serenity OF
death. A voice-"Glory.n / have
one sentiment for the soldiers living
anu oeadLcheers for the living and