The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1879-05-29

vantages Of this locality for nanufac-
lures.
THE following eloquent extract is from
one of lngersoll's speeches, delivered at
Indianapolis three years ago;
We have got the first free country that
ever existed. And right here want to
thank every soldier that fought to make
it free [cries of ''Good, Good" and
cheers, every one living and dead. l
thank ycu again, and again, and again.
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 boisterous
drums-the silver voices of heroic bugles.
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 with 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 forever. Others
are bending over cradles, kissing babies
that are asleep. Some are receiving the
blessings of old men. Some are parting
with mothers 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-stand
ing in the sunlight sobbing-at the turn
of the road hand waves-she answers
by holding high in her loving hands the
child. He 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 war
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 go with them one and all. We are
by their side on all the CORY felds-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. |
We are with them in ravines running
with blood-in the furrows Of old fields. |
We are with them between contendinp !
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 in 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
soc 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 govern ed |
by the lash-we see them bound hand
and foot-we hear the strokes of cruel
whips-we see the hounds tracking
women through tangled swampa. We
see babes sold from the breast of moth
ers. Cruelty unspeakable! Outrage
infinite.
Fear million bodies in chains-four
million souls in letters. 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 fre-sides, and
school houses and books, and where all
was want and crime and cruelty and fet-
ters, we see the faces of the free.
These heroes are dead. They died for
Eberty-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
windowless palace of rest. Earth NAV
rum 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."l have
one sentiment for the soldiers living and
dead-cheers for the living and tears for
the dead