Workmen's advocate., 1890-11-29
ECHOES OF NOVEMBER il
The Memorial Pilgrimage to Waldheim
 Cemetery.

A Chicago correspondent sends Us the following report, or rather synopsis, of the speech delivered hy l., <. Oliver at the grave of the Chicago martyrs;
 "CoMRApES IN THE CAUSE, GREET NG:-Ihis most unexpected call at the eleventh hour to pay tribute to our de parted comrades finds me, in the proud est moment of my life, wholly unpre pared for the grandeur of the occasion, It would be impossible on such short notice, to say all should desire to say.
 This inhuman act, the murder of our comrades, makes my cheeks flush with shame at the silent though sad comment 1t casts on the generosity of the people of my native land. But re grets are vain. Lamentations for the interchangeable past are weaknesses that must be buried with the passing time. But from the ashes in the grave will still rise the cry for justice. These quiet mounds with their sleeping dead are doing their work. The silent, but eloquent, lines engraved on the slab that marks their resting place, "Onr olNilN' " III uC lllOlt I'N ui ii NtiiiNo to come than the voices you strangle today" have gone down in history, never to be erased from the record book of time. Our children and our chiI- dren's children will read those imperish- able lines as they pass by and will be amazed at the stupidity of their fore fathers, who had countenanced such public butchery.
 "These men, who refused to bend the knee and kiss the rod that smOte them, these victims of bloodthirsty conspir ators, have lit the beacon fire that re- fleets its rays on the outer and inner walls of the old and new worlds con- bined
 Though subd"Ad at first, the denun- citation of this hellisl. deed is growing louder and more ominors as time rolls on. It has echoed across tie vale, 1t has rung at every hearthstone throughout the land; it has reverberated from wave to wave across the briny deep; it has met with response from every honest heart, and it will yet rouse the sleeping slaves of toll to action; it will come like the blinding flash above or the rumbling shock below; it will shake the world from pole to pole.
 These men did not regret the sacri- flee they made; they faced the hang man with unparalleled fortitude and met their doom with smile characteristic of their thoughts in life and desires in death; Weep not for US when we are gone, but on with the fight
 Aye, my friends. though the Jugger- naut wheels crushed weeping friends in every walk of life. though the un- thinking tongues stab you at every step, though they rear gibbet or a scatfold at every cross. road throughout the land, courage, comrades, courage, and On with the fight.
 Tear down the rotten fabric that be- fogs the mental vision of the minimizing crowd. Attack the citadels of religious and legal superstitions which prostitute our women and drive our children to the treadmill for existence! Are we men Have we not the courage to attack these hell-born and hell bent systems that laugh to scorn the agonies, the groans and tears of its anguished victims?
 "Methinks see the glaring headlines in the mornings papers, crying: Urea son. Conspiracy But let me say in advance that If longing to taste the drop that will not turn to gall, if de string to laugh the laugh that will not end in bitterness, if raising my voice for oppressed humanity, if striking a blow for a just and rational cause is treason, then do l repeat in the words of Robert Emmet, Make the most of it."
 Parsons and his friends were con victed on manufactured law. They were tried for murder and hung for anarchy. They were proven innocent and adjudged guilty. They asked for justice, and were answered with the rope"
 As the day was cold and raw, and the expected English speaker had arrived, Mir, Oliver closed with poem, of which, unfortunately, l have but the two fol. lowing stanzas:
 This day of sorrow, grief and pain does to our
 mem'ry bring
 How they met their sad death with smiles 0,
 Death, where was thy stingY What page of hiSt'ry marks the names that
 died on prOuder field
 Than they who sleep heneath these mounds,
 who died but could not yield They ever met their tearfnl friends with words
 of happy cheer;
 They loved their fellow men too well, for this
 they're lying here.
 Then, fare thee well, good old Waldhem, but
 not the last farewell
 We'll come again, one year from now, to tread
 thy wooded dell
 Thy meadow lands were neer so fair, thy wOod-
 lands ne CT so dear
 al. l.Vv
 lying here.
 Thy monument last ng name, that will not
 Crumble or decay,
 Thy memory a golden hue, that brlghtens day
 by day
 The COmmemOration in San Fran
 cisco