The interior journal. [volume] (Stanford, Ky.) 1872-1881, 1879-06-20
nov yoE e. =. BL.cKBURx
His Orafion Deer fhe Grares IF fhs
Taknesrn Css,Teferafe Dead
~ Frederick CITY, ma.

The occasion that brings US togeth
er, and the assemblage by which an
confronted, alike admonish me tia
the service which your Partially ha
imposed might well have been com
mitted TO one more accustomed y
dealing in the ornate. whose life wa
not given to the handling Of the rough
or issues Of current politics; but NJ
sense Of personal unfitness nor unfail
criticism or misrepresentation, 10 which
my presence or utterances here may
subject me. shall suffice 70 seal my lip
when called upon to bear testimony
to the manly lives and heroic deaths
Of those who cell In battle with me.
We have come TO deck their graves
with flowers. II Is a custom that has
become fixed among our people. II
is 4 beautiful ceremonial, born Of wo.
mans tenderness; IL was her gentler
nature that conceived Il. Surely Il
could have no filter origin, for it has
ever been her mission not only to give
TO triumph its value. but to rob defeat
Of lie sorrow and the grave Of lie
gloom. Last at the cross, first at the
sepulchre, her patience, endurance, de
votion and faith have ever been the
safest beacon given for our guidance.
Her hands are fittest for this tender
service. and surely there are no tears
50 holy as those shed by weeping beau
by over the
GRAVE OF vANQUTsHED vALoR-
This day we give 10 our dead; the
frivolties Of life are discarded; its cares
are forgotten as we stand here among
the habitations Of these silent sleepers.
'rhsrs i.s srsndsar In graves,
There is glory In gloom,
Fof out Of The gloom fsturs bsighiness 10 horn.
A. amer the night looms the Sunlight Of morn,
Aud the grave. Of the dead 9Th graas ovsrsrOvn
NAY yet form the footsiool Of libsriy's throne.
And each single vrect In the vaf-path Of night
shall yet h. . rock In the temple Of right.
These graves are the mute monu-
men,s erected by the hand Of war
They tell Of scenes Of carnage and
strife. As ! stand here in such a
presence, listening to martial music,
upon whose soft strains the recollec-
ton is foated back to other years and
different scenes. gazing into the faces
ofmen who bore their part in that
mighty struggle, calling up the tamil
lar forms Of others now numbered
with the dead. what sad and melan.
choly memories come crowding back
upon the mind; how easy in imagina-
ton to reproduce wars wild carnival,
the charging squadron, the wavering
line, the hurting shot. screaming shell,
the shout ofthe victor, the vail OF
the wounded, the moan Of the dying,
like fearful panorama, all seen and
heard again-but these. the mighty
actors in those scenes, live only in our
memories. What though we find up
ON these stones the names Of no mighty
leaders to whom the world gives hon
orr That only serves to brighten the
beauty Of your ceremonial. It's true
that the objects Of your tender care
today are the graves Of the nameless
and unknOwn-yes. nameless and un'
known to us, but who shall tell how
dear TO many loving heart that has
gone down weary to the tomb, or YET
lives in sorrow for their coming long
delayedl The yearning mother has
waited for her boy; the anxious wife
grown pale and worn, watching fol
the husband. who was the world tC
her; the prattling child, weary of III
questioning for an absent father, hai
come to manhood and womanhoOd
and all in sadness learned that son
husband. buried here. shall be
RETURNED TO THEM NO MORE,
save in the land which lies beyond thu
river 1t matters not to us whetheI
il be the far-famed chief or the hum
BILE private upon whose grave we strev
these flowers; We only care 10 know
that under the hillOck a hero lies, tina
a comrade has fallen, that the camp
Ere Of a veteran has gone out, and tn
home Of soldier been darkened for
ever.
|, We are not here TO recount tn
deeds Of heroism these men perform
ed. We will not pause upon the bal
tlefelds made famous by their valor
The task would be endless. We vii
not tell Of Manassas or the Wilder
ness, of Chickamauga or Stone river
Of Antietam, nor yet of the frownin
cannOn-crowned heights of Gettysburg
7 against whose rOck-ribbed sides South
ern courage flung itself In the abar
don of a reckless herOism. These ar
all the property Of the historian. W
are not here to sing psans 10 thos
great leaders whose names will pass
other ages, blazing among the brigh
est that gid the pages Of your eOuI
trys history. It's not TO speak
jackson, that srandest prodigy Of mi
; itary genius that your land has eve
! grown; nor Of Sidney Johnston. thu
A re.