The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1897-05-05
SARGE PLUNKETT.
He Greets the Coming of Memorial Day
with its Sad Memories.
atlanta Constitution.

memories that it brings.
Thirty-six years have passed sine
the guns numbered at Fort Sumter ant
ushered in the bloodiest wal the worl,
had wei known. Thirty-six year
may seem a long time to the younI
people, but it seems short to the ole
people who were here then, so shor
that the incidents Of those troublou:
days seem as but the happenings o
last week or the last month-time i
mighty short when it passed. Thes'
memorial occasions lend a hallowet
sweetness to everything upon their re
currence upon a day of every spring
and it is hoped that the interest il
the occasion will never grow less, but
rather, 60 on increasing down through
the ages as long as time shall last.
1t should be thus, and especially
it occurs to me that little children can
not be impressed too forcibly will
the Importance of the occasion, ant
of the sacrcdness of the things it rep
rcscnts. Children should be taught
to take the liveliest interest, not only
because they owe it, but to them vii
be left the duty of perpetuating anc
forever celebrating on the occasion
Let the children, sweet and lovely,
Bring that day the sweetest flowers,
And their bands in loving kindness
Scatter them in softest showers
Above where these dead heroes sleep,
And thus perpetuate and keep
A sacred day.
It will not be long until the children
Of to-day will be grown-up men and
women. 1 was impressed with the
quickness of such changes upon yes.
terday, as I watched a mother at hel
work whom I had seen in the cradle
in the year 1861. 1t did not seem
long as I unused upon it, since this
mother of the present vas a tiny babe
and I watched her mother as she iron,
ed just as the one irons to-day; but
mighty have been the changes and
great the difference in the occasions.
The old mother of 1861 was ironing
the clothes to 60 in her husband
knapsack-the one of yesterday was
fixing the clothes Of her own little
children to join in the parade Of
Memorial day, and tomorrow they
may be seen, looking prim and sweet,
with flowers to scatter over the graves
at Oakland.
This is as it should be, and I hope
the enthusiasm will never grow less,
nor the sacredness of its performance
ever be forgot. Thirty-six years ago,
as T stood over the cradle of this very
mother of to-day, I little dreamed Of
what was to come. and come so quick,
ly. She had a sweet mother and a
good father-as good and as sweet as
any of to-day. 1t was upon the occa-
sion of the fathers preparing for the
war that I speak. The circumstances
had passed my mind, but it came
back upon me yesterday as I watched
the mother. AS I watched many
memories came back-some of them
were sweet, but many were sad, 81 sad
that I could but shed a tear as
unused. The father came to my mind,
and it seemed that I could see him
just as he appeared. He was waiting
for his sack to be packed and kept q
foot upon the cradle, and up and
down, up and down, this way, that
way, he rocked and sang while the
mother packed the clothes. I could
see her as she folded the gray jacket
and packed it down smooth in the
bottom, and then each garment was
folded so nicely and packed away.
Every garment that went into that
knapsack caught a tear, though it was
plain that the mother was trying to
be brave and hide her sorrow-many
times she turned away and | know it
was just to hide the tears. I saw the
parting when the knapsack was at last
ready. I saw many %sorrowful part,
ings. Their hearts were ready to
burst when the little babe was lifted
from the cradle to be kissed by the
father for the last time. The little
babe thought it was great fun, and
jumped and crowed, as all sweet ba,
bies will; and yesterday as [ looked
upon her I wondered if she had ever
truly realized what a good father she
had lost when John got killed at NAL
vcrn Hill.
Let all women-let all mothers,
And the sisters and the wives,
Of departed southern heroes
Who for country gave their lives,
Magnify Memorial Day
Teach the children in this way
And keep it sacred.
] want you to watch the old veter.
ans in the procession to morrow. All
their heads are tinged with gray. The
younger among them are growing old,
and their line is shortening mighty
fast. Some of them impress you as
almost pitiful, and, if you have been
one to begrudge them their little pen,
sions you may feel sorry. They are
bent with age and limping from mfr
mites, but I can tell you that thirty.
six years ago these same men stepped
proudly to the tap of the drum, and !
Apubt if there will vel be again such
hysical manhood as was found in an
lrly Georgia regiment of volunteers.
hey were strong, brave, true and
flling-
rand survivors of the conflict
'Rebel" veterans, old and lame
aise your heads in pride of conscience;
1For with the dead you share the fame
hat was won through tribulatiop,
y q loved, but short-lived nation,
Bless this day.
Tt strikes me that the good old
uthern women have not received
cir share of honors. They should
pecially be remembered on these oc-
eions. 1t was their part to suffer
solitude. They had not the priv
lie to die. They could not join in
e songs of the camps nor the excite
int Of the battles, but they had theil
ep sorrows and their most important
ties; and they performed them in a
inner that will never be surpassed
by can never receive too much on
Grafton.
What changes have the past thirty
years brought!
What changes will the next thirty,
years bring?
This cannot be answered, but lfeel
my heart that
hen other thirty years have passed,
iERHJ i II 49,. k1~,k u,1ro Ahn rrou