Year: 1879

large pay, and larger self-appreciation


nor yet as chaplain, to have, rs many
did, a good, easy, remunerative time
out of bullet range--but as a private
soldier in the ranks, with our musket
and knapsack. For three years we
stood picket, lay in the trenches, waded
rivers, climbed mountains, traversed
swamps, baked our own beans-when
we had any-shot at rebels, and in turn
made for them target of our own
person. We passed through many
bloody scenes and some of the most
trying battles of the war. More than
once we narrowly escaped the bayonet,
Andersonville or Libby. We carried
ammunition from the pouches OF the
dying and the dead for some of these
same comrades whose deeds we are
now called upon to remember, and
helped with our own hands t0l lay scores
of them in their graves. When the
war closed we joined in the Nations
shout and hung our sword on the Wall
Many of our most valued friends were
left IN the South. We tried to dry the
tears of stricken fathers and mothers by
reciting the heroism of their dead, and
then went back into the ranks of the
Master to pray for the fatherless and
the widows. But we were happy. A
halo of glory hung over these graves.
We looked on the broad acres of this
great land, and felt it was enough. We
had spent as Nation more than S4,-
900, 900, 900, and had sacrificed hundreds
of thousands of precious lives, but 'the
cruel war was over,' and our enemies
were ready to accept the situation.


To-day the men Government paid
us by the month for shooting at are our
Congressman. Four Senators only who
now serve us were Union soldiers, while
twenty were in the Rebel army. Sixty
| five rebel soldiers in the House. Not
solitary man in all the South who stood
| Loyalty by the Government with his life
in his hand comes as Representative.
| More than two-thirds of the whole mum


Der were in open rebellion and under
arms, yet in six, if not in seven, States
of the thirteen which rebelled the
Union voters are in the majority. The
tried soldier is thrust out. The freed
men who led the way through dismal
swamps, found hiding places, and car
ried a portion of their own scanty fare
to our starving boys flying from prison
pens, who bound up their wounds and
picked the worms from their gangrened
| flesh, torn by bloodhounds-these freed
men are to-day flying from their homes
to save their lives. Insult stamps upon
the graves of our dead in the South,
and revolution is complete in its vio-
lence only that solitary Union soldier
who happens to be at the head of the
Government stands alone in the breach.


"No, we cannot preach over the dead
yet. Other battles are to fight. 1t
were an empty offering. We do not
wish to mock their bleaching bones.
They did not bleed and die for few
empty eulogies and handful of half
once year. They ask bread and we
give them a stone. They rot in their
graves with gaping wounds of sword
and bullet and bayonet, and the death
stare of those who starved in prison
pens yet traceable in the dust under
their coffin lids. We push aside their
manned comrades to make room for
the men who laughed at their dying
scream for food, and ordered guards to
shoot the poor crazed maniac who
dared reach over the dead-line for
half putrid bone, and now come in
token of our appreciation with wilted
flowers. How these dead skeletons
must appreciate this costless offeringP
God forbid we should approach their
graves until we can carry the old flag
over a land united and free, such as
they dreamed of in their last delirium.
Let other hands carry flowers. 1t is
meet that pure and lovely maidens
should do this. 1t is all they have.
Let those preach sermons of eulogy
who never shivered in the Wilderness
nor heard the roar of the battle above
the Clouds We shall stand in silence
over the old battery. We are still on
picket. The war is not over. The dis
tant mutter of the conflict can still be
heard. We are yet to lay other treas
ures away in the grave-murdered on
the altar of revolution. We cannot in
suit our comrades. Over their graves
before the God of the Nation we have
sworn allegiance to the cause for which
they died, and stand ready for the next
bugle call, but we have never scattered
flowers, and never will, until the right
shall finally triumph, and the enemies
of our common country are driven from
their place of power. Let the dead
sleep. We are ashamed publicly to
speak of their heroism in the history of
to-day. They have passed beyond the
stencil and corruption, the flies and the
maggots, the hunger and the thirst un-
der burning Southern suns, and no lon
ger ask aught of us. Our heart aches;
it is all huge farce; righteous indig-
nation consumes us. The Government
is heartlessly cruel. 1t called them to
sacrifices thousand times more terri
BILE than the Juggernaut, and has for
gotten the purchase price. The enc
mics who followed them with blood
hounds now seek the life of the Nation,
and crate the principles of the rebellion
in the Senate Chamber. No! we scorn
this empty offering. Turn out these
rebels! Tear down their flags! Send
traitors where they belong, and God
will carry the flowers in the deft fingers
of the sunshine and the raindrop, and
will weave wreaths and garlands by the
agency of the winds, and will make
melody by the orchestra of all nature.
Until then we shall leave our harp on
the willows, and continue to cry out,
How long, o Lord, holy and true, dost
thou not Judge and avenge our blood on
themP Portland OregOntan.


Stanley Again in Africa.