I cannot stop without speaking of the heroic dead. It seems to me as though their spirits ought to hover over you to-day—that they might join with us in giving thanks for the great victory,—that their faces might grow radiant to think that their blood was not shed in vain,—that the living are worthy to reap the benefits of their sacrifices, their sufferings and death, and it almost seems as if their sightless eyes are suffused with tears. Then we think of the dear mothers waiting for their sons, of the devoted wives waiting for their husbands, of the orphans asking for fathers whose returning footsteps they can never hear; that while they can say "my country," they cannot say "my son," "my husband," or "my father."
My heart goes out to all the slain, to those heroic corpses sleeping far away from home and kindred in unknown and lonely graves, to those poor pieces of dear, bleeding earth that won for me the blessings I enjoy to-day.
Shall I recount their sufferings? They were starved day by day with a systematic and calculating cruelty never equaled by the most savage tribes. They were confined in dens as though they had been beasts, and then they slowly faded and wasted from life. Some were released from their sufferings by blessed insanity, until their parched and fevered lips, their hollow and glittering eyes, were forever closed by the angel of death. And thus they died, with the voices of loved ones in their ears; the faces of the dear absent hovering over them; around them their dying comrades, and the fiendish slaves of slavery.
And what shall I say more of the regiment before me? It is enough that you were a part of the great army that accomplished so much for America and mankind.
It is but just, however, to say that you were at the bloody field of Perryville, that you stood with Thomas at Chickamauga and kept at bay the rebel host, that you marched to the relief of Knoxville through bitter cold, hunger and privations, and had the honor of relieving that heroic garrison.
It is but just to say that you were with Sherman in his wonderful march through the heart of the Confederacy; that you were in the terrible charge at Kenesaw Mountain, and held your ground for days within a few steps of the rebel fortifications; that you were at Atlanta and took part in the terrible conflict before that city and marched victoriously through her streets; that you were at Savannah; that you had the honor of being present when Johnson surrendered, and his ragged rebel horde laid down their arms; that from there you marched to Washington and beneath the shadow of the glorious dome of our Capitol, that lifts from the earth as though jealous of the stars, received the grandest national ovation recorded in the annals of the world.
DECORATION DAY ORATION.
* At the Memorial Celebration of the Grand Army of the
Republic last evening the Academy of Music was filled to
overflowing, within a few minutes after the opening of the
doors.
Gen. Hancock was the first arrival of importance. The
Governor's Island band accepted this as a signal for the
overture. The Academy was tastefully decorated. The three
balconies were covered, the first with blue cloth, the
second with white and national bunting, studded with the
insignia of the original thirteen States, and the family
circle with red. Over the centre of the stage the national
flag and device hung suspended, and was held In its place by
flying streamers extending to the boxes. The latter were
draped with flags, relieved by antique armor and weapons—
shields, casques and battle axes and crossed swords and
pikes.
At 8.05 the curtain slowly rose, and discovered to the view
of the audience, a second audience reaching back to the
farthest depths of the scenes. These were the fortunate
holders of stage tickets, and comprised a great number of
distinguished men.
Among them were noticed Gen. Horace Porter, Gen. Lloyd
Aspinwall, Gen. Daniel Butterfield, Gen. D. D. Wylie, Gen.
Charles Roome, Gen. W. Palmer, Gen. John Cochrane, Gen. H.
G. Tremaine, the Hon. Edward Pierrepont, Dep't. Commander
James M. Fraser, the Hon. Carl Schurz, August Belmont, Henry
Clews, Dr. Lewis A. Sayre, Charles Scribner, Jesse Seligman,
William Dowa, Henry Bergh and George William Curtis. Gen.
Bamum came upon the stage followed by President Arthur,
Gen's. Grant and Hancock, Secretaries Folger and Brewster,
ex-Senator Roscoe Conkling, Mayor Grace and the Rev. J. P.
Newman. Gen. Hancock's brilliant uniform made him a very
conspicuous figure, and he served as a foil to the plain
evening dress of Gen. Grant, who was separated from him by
the portly form of the President.
Gen. James McQuade, the President of the day, rose and
uncovering a flag which draped a sort of patriotic altar in
front of him, announced that It was the genuine flag upon
which was written the famous order, "If any man pull down
the American flag, shoot him on the spot.' * This was the
signal for round after round of applause, while Gen. McQuade
waved this precious relic of the past. The time had now come
for the introduction of the orator of the evening, Col.
Robert G. Ingersoll. Col. Ingersoll stepped across the stage
to the reading desk, and was received with an ovation of
cheering and waving of handkerchiefs.
After the enthusiasm had somewhat abated, a gentleman in one
of the boxes shouted: "Three-cheers for Ingersoll."
These were given with a will, the excitement quieted down
and the orator spoke as follows '.—The New York Times. May
31st, 1883.