West Virginia argus. [volume] (Kingwood, W. Va.) 1877-1946, 1895-10-24
rHE coNrEDERArE SOLDIER.
His Return Home Eicqueptiy Pie.
stared by the Late Henry ". Grady.

'tureo oy tce Late henry W ,Gradv.
The following extract from the
famous address delivered by the
late Henry w. Grady before the
New England Society of New York
on the occasion of its annual dinner
in 1856, derives special interest aud
appropriateness from the assocla-
tions of Memorial Day:
cdr. Talmage has drawn for you
with a master hand, the picture OF
your returning armies. He has told
you how. In pomp and circumstance
OF war, they came back to you,
marching with proud and victorious
tread, reading their glory in ma
tons eyes. Will you bear with
me while l tell you OF another army
that sought its home at the close of
the war--an army that marched
home in defeat and not in victory
in pathos and not in splendor, but
in glory that equaled yours and to
hearts that were as loving as ever
welcomed heroes homo.
"Let me picture to you the foot.
sore Confederate soldier, as, button
lug up in his faded gray jacket the
parole which was to bear testimony
to his children Of his fidelity and
faith. he turned his face southwark
from Appomattox in 1865. Think
Of him, as, ragged, half starved,
heavy hearted, enfeebled by want
and wounds, having fought to ex-
haustion, he surrenders his gun,
wrings the hands OF his comrades in
silence, and. lifting his tear stained
and pallid face FOR the last time to
the graves that dot old Virginia's
hills, pulls his gray cap over his
brow and begins the slow and pain
full journey.
"What does he find P" Let me
ask you, who went TO your homes
eager to find, in welcome you had
justly earned, full payment for four
years sacrlice--what does he find
when. having followed the battle
stained cross against overwhelming
odds, dreading death not half so
much as surrender, he reaches the
home he left so prosperous and
beautiful lie finds his house in
ruins, his farm devastated, his
slaves free, his stock killed, his
barns empty, his trade destroyed,
his money worthless, his social sys-
tcm---fendal in it's magnificence--
swopt away, his people without law
or legal status. his comrades slain,
and the burdens Of others heavy on
his shoulders.
Without money, credit, employ
ment, material or training. and,
besides all this, confronted with the
gravest problem that ever met hu-
man iDtellgence--the establishing
of status for the vast body Of his
liberated slaves.
"What does he do, this hero in
gray, with the heart of gold ? Does
he sit down in sullenness and dis
par? Not for a day. Surely God,
who had stripped him Of his pros
perity, inspired him in his adversi-
ty. AS ruin was never before so
overwhelming, never was restora-
ton swifter. The soldier stepped
from the trenches into the furrow;
horses that had charged federal
guns marched before the pillow, and
fields that ran red with human
blood in April were green with the
harvest in June; women reared i'm
luYnpv Cuk m tbotr "A Isoocoo a,J
made breeches for their husbands;
with = patience and a heroism that
fit women always as a garment they
gave their hands to work. There
was little bitterness in all this.
Cheerfullness and frsnkness pre-
vailed. Bill Arp struck the key
note when he said: We'll, ] killed
ss many Of them as they did Of me,
and I'm going home to work. ="