Montgomery County sentinel. [volume] (Rockville, Md.) 1855-1974, 1898-06-03
Memorial Exercises at the RockviltS
Cemetery.

Day" at the Rockville Cemetery, With in
teresting exercises under the auspices of tht
Ladies' Cemetery Association. A(large con
course OF people from this place and various
sections of the county was In attendance
The floral tributes 70 the dead were in grea
profusion and very beautiful. The exer
cises consisted of prayer by Rev. r. l.
McNair, musical selections by qusrtette
composed Of Mrs. George G. Dawson, Miss
Belle Kingdom, and Messrs. Reading and
McNair, and an address by Col William
Kilgour, of this place.
The entire cemetery grounds are in first.
class condition, showing the care and good
taste Of the ladies having them in charge.
The following is a copy of the address
Mrs. President, Ladies and Gentlemen:
lam present upon this occasion, in obedi.
ence TO very kind invitation, to perform
as best may be able, most pleasing duty
and for the opportunity afforded me OF graf
Tying cherished sentiment of my mind
and heart that beat In sympathy and har.
mony with you in your pilgrimage of love
l beg 10 tender my acknowledgements.
To day, whilst all nature is redolent with
beauty, with song and shadow blending ev-
erywhere, you have assembled upon an oc,
casion of unusual solemnity. One touch.
ingly eloquent because of its poetic simpi-
city, and melowed with the warmth OF the
finest, tenderest and noblest feelings that
animate the human heart.
Fair flowers, fresh flowers, the poetry of
Gods love, the richest and rarest ornament
in the great moving and breathing panorama
of nature, have been culled from choice par
terres, sunny corners, the dimples of the
| fields and the sweet and secluded alcoves of
the wild woodlands, bound with the slken
ribbon of affection, and tenderly and sacred
| ly placed upon the voiCeless homes Of your
sleeping dead-where the smile has laded
from our sight and "Silence now enamored
OF voice. locks its music in heI rugged cell"
That gifted orator and poet, the laureate of
| the South, whose pen was ever touched with
sweetness, wrote upon memorable occa
sion: "a land without ruins is a land with.
out memories, and land without memories
is land without history, but twne few
sad cypress leaves around the brow of any
land, and be that land barren, beautiless and
bleak 1t becomes lovely In its consecrated
inronet of sorrow, and it wins the sympathy
Of he heart and of history" The cypress
leaves and the flowers which you have
placed Ager and around the clusters of grass
covered m dds hard by, are more than cor
onets of sorit4S.. 1t is the perpetuation of a
sacred usage spi .Sging from the purest emo
tons of the soul, '.Shich IL to go forth in u
thousand various forms 10 elevate and beau
THY all that was great and good in the
dead, and to extenuate aud soften all that
was weak. The method OF expressing this
sentiment OF love Tor the dead eKtJlds from
the rude symbolic ceremonies and GOund
buriaIs OF the savage 10 the elegant aud 90
quent eulogies which embalm the memories
in the literature and song of the most cul-
tlvated people. Ii is seen around the rude
slOne that marks the last resting place OF the
toll worn peasant and on the marble pomp
that hides the Wondering dust of departed
grandeur. The history OF all the efforts of
mankind on this subject unerringly teach
| however, that there is no earthly immortal
Ity for the dead except in the imperishable
keeping of written language. The marble
pillars set up by Sesostrs TO mark his con.
quest have crumbled into atoms. The great
| tuMulus over the heroes on the field of Mar
athon is almost gone-nearly buried beneath
the dust and obscurity OF revolving years
| The stone lion at the pass Of Thermopyl@
| and the statues and embems which were
intended To perpetuate tho names of the
mighty men Of the past have all persisted
"amid the indistinguishabe wrecks of NOR
tality." The tombs of Abraham and Aneas
and Moses and Romulus are with those 81
the mighty host OF sleeping demi-gods whj1
are marked on the worlds grea. hs'ne-
| fields with the humblest and ms ke'I-
| "unk7aOaoR."
The highest and most eoduing tribute
which we can pay h. our desa is tne one IN
which you are $50 apr' 70 gay az :, Is Tue sne
I WTl''e co , ang through each sue
ceedinp !, uefation until Orion shall have
been q Jund into dust
y me where in the great temple OF
Tainre, whose pillars are the eternal hills,
whose roof is the star-it sky, whose organ
tones are the whispering breeze and the
sounding storm, whose Architect is God, is
there such an eloquent, touching and pa
triotic tableau as that which TO day meets
the eye all over this fair land The mghtiest
nation of the earth with the angry war cloud
all along its Notwithstanding her canvas
midst the music OF the storms and Haunting
her flag under the frowning batteries OF a
foreign power, turning aside for the day, as
you have done, TO place floral offering upon
the graves of her brave and patriotic dead.
These are the monuments which beat back
the TaVages of time.
Twelve moons have hardly waxed and
waned since this quiet resting place OF your
dead witnessed a scene similar TO that which
is now being enacted. Ii the tribute oil love
and respect, which you renew to-day, seems
formal from oft repetition, there is sorrow
which is speechess, a grief which is fearless
Apart from the further decorations and
improvements that have been made under a
careful and efficient management, there have
been changes here since the last memorial
day" The bright, beautiful and accom-
plIshed young girl, the pride OF the family
altar, the Jewel OF the household; the youth
just on the verge Of manhood, iull Of hope
and fired with ambition, the darling OF his
mother, and the "Village Hampden" OF the
father the pious Iather and mother with
hearts iull OF love but lreighted down with
years; "the little cherub," whose dimpled
cheeks had never been kissed by an
Autumn's sun, have been placed In cold
and unembroldered chambers, with each
mound that rises above them telling It's own
silent story OF love and sorrow.
Long addresses upon such occasions are
not only tedious, but in bad taste. A lew
words IN conc fusion and | give way to
others
With me, | realize that the shadow Is fall.
lux IhI WtbtWbIu ms 4 bhio ouNiIh
enclosure 70 day, felt that was no stranger
here remember that far back 10 the pur
pied splendor OF the beautiful long ago, ere
u single willow had been planted in my
heart, | had sheltered under every tree
around. The little stream which murmurs
with such constant but untut0red melody
along the eastern slope of the grounds had
many and many time caught the image Of
my boyhood as to day il reflected the shadow
of advanced and advancing years.
Making my way along the beautiful ave-
nues and walks, caught the names Of many
whom | had known from childhood and
who were endeared To me by thousand
tender "reminiscences and could but silently
exclaim: Sleep, softly, sweetly sleep through
the long dreary hours Of the day and the
night. Flowers will bloom around your
graves, storms will beat upon them, morn
Jog will greet them with her earliest light,
night crown them with her stars, the re-