The Farmville herald. [volume] (Farmville, Va.) 1890-1934, 1905-06-02

or TO the memory of our gallant dead
II is not the sadness and bereavement
Of a newly made grave that brings u
in the sound Of its funeral train, bu
in the pathos of devotion and in tn
spirit Of reyerent memory do we conn
to decorate with memorial Of our love
those silent chambers Of death, alread!
decorated by natures bOunteous store
house Of living green.
To the pious ones Of lsrael's banC
no spot is so sacred a. that lovely val'
whereon stood the tent Of the leade
from Ur Of the Chadees as he march
ed toward the land of Canaan the
home of the chosen few. In loving
fondness does the wandering Moham
medan turn his anxious face to the
mystic shrine of Mecca. The sons o
Briton's empire still draw near the
sacred soil cOnsecrated by Hengist and
/ HOrsa, heroes of the northern seas
SO we, the loyal SONS Of the distin'
guished soldiers Of the Southern Con
federacy, each recurring season, turn
aside from the busy mart, and enter
within the resting place Of our South
ern dead. No towering shaft proclaims
their names and virtues TO the ages as
they come and go, but the beauty OF
their heroism and the perpetuity OF
their fame is emblazoned upon the
hearts Of succeeding years, and so long
as a patriots breast would listen to
their story, green fields Of our south
land, the wales and mumuring
streams will still join in shouting an
thems to the memory Of their deeds.
The memory Of the Southern sol
dier is surrounded by the safeguards
Of an illustriOus record. The pano-
rama of by gone days is replete with
the glory and renOwn Of many ma
tons, but since the morning stars first
Joined the everlasting chorus Of the
worlds creation no succeeding era
eclipsed the beauty Of sentiment, the
softness Of spirit, and the consecra-
ton Of patriotism manifested in the
development, the achievements and
the victories Of our own southland.
The record Of her history and the
achievements Of her people is without
a parallel in the annals of mankind.
The great war between the States has
passed away, the active armies of the
Confederacy have disbanded forever,
the camp fires are extinguished and
her muster rolls laid away. Presump-
ton would it be in me to enlarge upon
the aspiration and the causes that ac-
tuated the immortal conflict in that
gigantic struggle. Some Of those inn
mortal southrons, though passed from
earthly combat, are camping in their
final camp ground. This muster roll
is preserved by the angels Of the heav-
emily realm, their camp-fires are yet
burning in the memories of their chill
dren who today are strewing garlands
Of love and veneratiOn upon the rest
ing places Of those illustrious sires.
Without distinction of religion or ma
tionality or wealth they gave their
lives to their country and we garland
theirgraves today. Some are amongst
the living yet. \ few short years
and they toolwill answer to the final
roll-call, "and wrapping the drapery
of their couch about them will lie
down to pleasant dreams" The lives
Of these surviving heroes have been
filed with endless change. Peace
hath her victories no less than war,
and the foot sore Confederate soldier
who turned his face southwark in
April '65 is the uncrowned king Of the
civil life of the southland. Wrapped
in the faded garments Of Confederate
gray he turned his face away from the
sadness Of Appomattox and began his
weary pilgrimage to the old home
stead amidst the Southron wales.
Looking out upon the vast area Of
mother earth, adorned with flowers Of
the sweetest fragrance, and dressed in
garments Of the purest green, they
re-erect their demolished temples and
reconsecrate their lives TO the living
God.
The garlands that we strew today
are largely upon the graves Of UNI
known loved ones. Under the enclo-
sure here around us rest the remains
Of six hundred Confederate soldiers
whose surviving loved ones know not
where they lie. The local history Of
our cemetery may be of peculiar in
terest to some who stand before me.
Lowly indeed they may have been,
but the lessons that they teach us will
survive through all the annals Of time.
The physical man may return its nat
ural transition Of "ashes to ashes and
dust to dust" but the soul life of those
men forever fingers and unites the
heritage Of succeeding years.
Art here unknown, warriors dead ?
Recall the solemn hours when those
celestial spirits quit the realm of
earth ? Foramoment he fingers about
the threshold Of eternity laden with
garlands Of hope. That feeble form
that has so nobly withstood the throes
Of cruel warfare, ceases forever its
throb. Those trembling lips now
tremor for the last time. Those daz-
cling eyes which ever and anon