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EEY. A, J. RYAN, Editor-
AUGUSTA, GA„ MAY 9, 1868.
THE CONFEDERATE DEAD-PRESERVE
THEIR MEMORIES,
Respect for the dead is a characteris
tic of civilization ; and, while memory
sadly loves to linger arouod the past lives
of the dear departed, and affection sheds
its most copious tears for the loss of dear
ones whose forms lie mouldering in the
bosom of the earth, or sleep in the coral
caves ot the fathomless ocean, the h and
of love and respect will preserve some
memento of the past, erect some monu
ment, grand or humble it may be, but
“sacred to the memory” of the “loved
and lost,” or wreathe about their tombs
garlands and evergreens, and scatter
there the best and the sweetest flowers
that nature gives. And it is well that
this should be as it is. And as it is with
the individual so should it be with com
munities and with nations. They should
cherish the memories of their hero dead,
and scatter Nature’s choicest and sweet'
est flowers around their tombs. In all
Catholic countries this custom of floral
offerings at the resting places of the dead
prevails, and it is one of the most beauti
ful that affection or respect could devise.
So, too, we are pleased to see that the
fair daguhters of the South, with the
naturally womanly taste fur all that is
good and beautiful, have caught the idea
and inspired it with life and glory, by
applying it to the dead heroes of the Lost
Cause.
“In the land where we were dream
ing,” a new-born Nation which had sprung
suddenly into existence, as suddenly tvent
down to the mighty tomb of the buried
past, baptised and conscrated in the blood
of its martyed heroes. Its banner, which
had waved so long in triumph and defeat,
is now furled, and its glories live only in
the hearts of those who love liberty and
admire bravery. Here they are enshrined
until the day of American justice and
reason shall dawn again, and bring them
fortfl, in new-born glory and splendor, to
bless the world and the memories of those
who fought and died to sustain them.
That banner may never be unfurled
again ; its silken folds may lie crumpled
and hidden forver, but the principles
which it represented and once protected,
will one day yet have their triumph, not
“in the land where we were dreaming/’
but in this land where our people will
have awakened to truth, justice, and right.
So let us respect our dead. So let us give
a day every year to their memories. So
let us scatter the sweetest and the choicest
flowers around and about their sleeping
places. And as we keep alive their memo
ries and cherish the heroic deeds of these
heroic dead, so shall we save the princi
ples for which they fought and died, and
so saving them, transmit them, bright
and untarnished to future generations,
and so transmitting them give them, one
day to the whole American Union, as
they once belonged to the Confederate
States of the South.
THE LATE ELECTIONS,
The late elections throughout the South
ern Territories were a decided “success.”
No theatrical performance could have
ever met with greater success, no matter
what the play, and who the star actors
might be. W edo not, of course, mean to
compare the elections to such things as
theatric performances, and when we al
lude to star actors, we do not, by any
manner • f means, hint at those who car
ried on rho elections, and who happen to
wear stars on their shoulders. No, the
election." were not a mere play; there was
a terrible reality about them .Some, with
more wit than wisdom, called them a farce,
but, to our mind, there was nothing far
cical about them. We consider it very
disloyal to persist in looking at the comic
side of our elections—if comic side they
have. To laugh at them, we regard as
treason. To. weep over them, we con
sider a great waste of sorrow, that might
very easily be reserved for some better
object. To say nothing about them, we
consider a great want of respect for those
who have so ably carried them out, as
well as an unpardonable lack of appre
ciation of the greatest principle of the
age—success, To say too much about
them, is, in its own way, just as bad ; for
it would be a reassertion of one of the
wrongs blotted out by the war—Freedom
of the Press. So we are placed in a
dilemma, and we are at a loss what to do.
Comic or tragic, those elections were real
things, with real consequences. To us,
their reality alone invests them with in
terest. It was not a mere spectacle to
laugh or joke about; it was a reality—
these men with the bayonets guarding
the freedom and purity of the ballot-box.
It was not a mere show—it was a reality
—these crowds of men of every hue and
shade, and of every degree of ignorance
and intelligence, going up together,
through the lines of gleaming bayonets >
to give their votes. It was not a mere
farce—it was a stern reality, to see the
race, which has made the world what it
is, give place and precedent to the race
which will make the world what "it will
be. It was not the mere joke of a day to
witness how wise ignorance may become,
and how foolish wisdom may be made.
It was not a mere pretty piece of pa
geantry for the awe or amusement of
children—those armed men in blue uni
forms, with their martial airs, and their
guns and bayonets glistening so brightly
in the sun. Children did draw near, and
wonderingly looked on ; but these child
ren's fathers were there too—they looked
on and thought —no matter what—but
they did look and think, and some of
them told us their thoughts—and they
were so very much like our own—but we
will not tell them. We, too, saw it all,
and to us it was not a farce, it was sol
emn and real —and it made us think.
[From the Macon Telegraph.]
Decorating the Graves of our
Dead on the 26th of April.
BY EPFIE B. CASTLE*.
While bright clouds gather ’round the rising sun,
Like Southern banners in their day of pride,
A labor sweet, of love, is to be done.
This day we thank Thee, Father, that upon
These precious heads, these hearts so “true and
tried,”
No trouble falls.
The “trumpet’s stirring blast” wakes not their sleep !
No war’s wild note, or wail of glories past
Can reach these soldier hearts —and we v, ho weep
Need not a glittering marble ehaft to keep
Their image fresh—thoughts of their deods will last
Till life is done.
We kneel and thank Thee that their tents are spread
On “Fame’seternal camping ground,” no fcx»
Disturbs sweet dreams, nor calls to arms! —they’re led
Through pastures sweet and green, by One who fed
And nurtured Hagar’s son through all his woo
And journey lone.
But. Father, ’tis yet night with many a poor
Lone heart—a night of storm! Though yesrs have
sown
Bright blooming flowers and herbage sweet thick o’er
Their lonely graves, far cistant seems that shore
Those loved feet press—and widowed hearts still
mourn
Their buried joys.
Fond Mother (as in prayer you knoel), e’en now
Your boy is resting ’neath sweet olive shades—
His lips are hived in water pure—his brow
Is cool and damp with Hermon’s dew. Ah, how,
Bright spirit, could we call thee from those glades
To see our woe ?
Dear Father! as we come this day to spread
Our humble tributes on each lowly grave,
Lock not Thy heart! —but a.s we bow - the head
In meek submission, let Thy gracs be shed
On all these mourning ones. We comfort have—
They rest xoitk Thee !
Macon, April, 1803.
■» .o* *
THE CONFEDERATE DEAD-MEMORIAL
CELEBRATIONS.
In our last issue, we gave an account
of the Memorial celebrations in Savannah
and Augusta. We see from our ex
changes, that in Macon, Columbus and
Montgomery, Memorial Day was observed
in those cities on Sunday, April 26. The
day was most appropriate to the object.
The following will be read with interest,
as showing the grateful remembrance in
O O
which the dead are held by the living.
muiira ©i fii Pott-
The first lrom the Paducah (Ky.) Herald ,
is a touchingly beautiful and eloquent
tribute to our dead :
THE CONFEDERATE DEAD.
Thousands of Southern maids and ma
trons throughout the South will throng
about the spots hallowed by the dust of
Southern chivalry, bearing their tender
offerings of violets and roses as a tribute
to the memory of departed valor. The
South cannot utter her grief in stone. No
towering mausoleums entomb the ashes
G #
of her dead’ No marble column casts its
protecting shade over her new made
graves. Though, like ancient Priam, she
has kissed those terrible, those bloody
hands which slew her children, yet no
generous Achilles allows her dead the
right ofsepulture. Alas ! her only per
mitted tribute is a tear—her whispered
anthem a sigh ! But her daughters will
go, with all the devotion of an Eastern
Pilgrim, to mingle their tears over “ pieces
of bleeding clay,” and. scatter flowers over
brothers’ graves—graves yet moistened
with the weeping of a brave people.
They go not to tear away the sacred
shroud, nor reanimate with impure life
the mouldering dust of departed contro
versy. They would not even “call back
to its mansion the fleeting breath,” for
they are happier than the bruised sur
vivors who daily die living deaths in
watching the lingering agonies of ex
piring liberty ! The dead, the immortal
dead,
“ Aro past tlie fear -
Os future tempest or a wreck on shore ;
Those who survive are still exposed to both.”
But they go simply to pay a tender
tribute to the heroes of a broken, shackled
cause. Will any one say there is dis
loyalty in this ? Is there treason and re
bellion in weeping over the grave of de
parted virtue, because obloquy and
shame is heaped upon it by carping de
tainers? If so the tears and bitter agony
of Mary Magdalene should have been re
warded only with the tortures of the
rack. No ! though the South be denied
her privileges; though she bo the victim of
torture and barbarity, which the red man
of the forest has been taught to relinquish
—though her spirit be chained in shackles
—she will claim the right of sorrow.
She will, like Kachel of old, weep and
grieve because her children are not.
Let not the fair and lovely maidens of
Kentucky forget their duty. Let the
memory of the buried be the theme of
spirit-stirring song and passionate story.
Let the poet and minstrel shed around it
the splendor and rapture of genius ; and
let all invoke the presence of those vir
tues which, though departed, still “ rule
our spirits from the Urns,” silently en
noble the human character, and swell the
tide of human happiness. The natural
effect of grief for the dead is to refine aud
elevate the mind, and in its manifesta
tions there is something htr more touch
ing than the cold costly monuments of
art. The heart glows with fervor while
the hand strews the flowers, and the tear
of sorrow falls like a dew-drop “ polished
by the hand Divine.” It is one of the
last and holiest offices of love and tender
ness. It is a sorrow front which we should
never be divorced. Time heals and soothes
ail other wounds.
But the dull and mournful clang which
proceeds from the closing portals of the
tomb, must ever grate harshly upon the
ear of grief and affection. Though
the cau#j of the South be enshrouded
with the pall of defeat, and the sword
which gleamed in its defence be hung
high upon the walls of Fate—though
the spider “ hath woven her web” in
tlio temples of her greatness, and the
“ owl sings her watch note” amid her
bowers of pleasure—yet she will mourn
over the cold and mangled forms of her
devoted children, plant a flower upon
their graves, and ever cherish their ashes
as the sacred emblem of a mother’s
pride.
[From the Montgomery Mail, April 27.]
MEMORIAL DAY.
Pursuant to notice to that effect, a
large number of our citizens of both
sexes met at the Capitol grounds yester
dav, at 4 P. M., and proceeded thence
1 1 the Cen ®tery reserved for the Con
federate dead. A large number of
others had already collected at the same
point. Under the superintendence of
Rev, Dr. Cox, the Ladies’ Association
had put the ground in thorough order.
The walks and graves were relieved ot
all vestige of weeds. Neat head-boards
had been erected throughout the Ceme
tery, and a handsome little room in the
centre, in which to preserve a list of the
the names of the dead. A handsome
monument had also been erected, which
measured twenty feet from the base of
the mound upon which it rested, to the
top of the urn which surmounted it. It
was one of the neatest and most, ap
propriate monuments we ever saw, re
flecting much credit upon the taste of
the Association.
Upon the several sides of the plain
column were inscribed the following
mottoes :
TO OUR NOBLE DEAD.
ERECTED BY THE LADIES’ ME
MORIAL ASSOCIATION,
OF MONTGOMERY, ALA., APRIL, 18GS.
“ They do not die, who in their deeds survive,
Enshrined forever in the hearts of men.”
“ Not battle trump, nor the rude cannon roar,
From their calm sleep can e’er awake them more.”
“ Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori.”
“ Hallowed the dust where sleeps the brave.”
Before decorating the graves with the
choicest flowers of spring, a band of girls
stood near the monument and sang a
most appropriate hymn. The scene was
most beautiful and affecting, worthy of
the memory of the heroes who slept in
death around them.
Before the hymn was sung, Col Joseph
Hodgson, by request, made a few remarks
pertinent to the occasion. He thanked
the ladies on behalf of the survivors of
the war for the pious memorials offered
in remembrance of their departed brothers.
He recalled the scenes through which
they had passed, and alluded to the for
titude, gallantry and sufferings which
marked their tour years of warfare, re
marking that such devotion was worthy
of this annual tribute to their memory,
and should he held up.before our children
as an example of the honor and affection
which will be always bestowed by a grate
ful people upon those who do their duty
in whatever station they may be placed.
He hoped that the day would yet dawn
when a monument far more imposing than
this may be erected to the patriots of the
war for the Constitution, and look down
upon a grateful and happy people from
the Capitol hill. That time he believed
would as surely come os the day when
the victors will see that these graves
cover the remains of victims who died for
justice and freedom.
[From tlie Macon Journal & Messenger, April 28.]
IN MEMORIAM.
The loving labor of decorating the
graves of the deceased Confederate sol
diers, now resting in llose Hill Cemetery,
was gone through with yesterday in the
most solemn and impressive manner.
Every recurring anniversary of this sa
cred day adds more unanimity and tender
care to the preparation of the offerings
that mourning beauty lays upon the
shrine of departed valor. We trust it
will grow and strengthen with each re
volving year, and that if the future holds
in its development more trials, and toils,
and gloom than now blacken the South
ern sky, we shall see this day and its cele
bration more and more dear to Southern
hearts. We trust Nature’s richest adorn
ment shall ever 'embellish a scene and a
ceremony, every element of which is
lovely, aud of which every remembrance,
if we are true to ourselves and true to the
Dead, shall be forever sweet and gracious.
We claim thus much from the conqueror.
When we forego it, the darkest day of
all has dawned upon us.
We have neither time nor space to
enter into an elaborate description of the
scene and its incidents. Suffice it to say,
that a wreath of flowers crowned each
grave. None were forgotten. The throng
that filled the Cemetery moved from
place to place in quiet earnestness, and
left upon each hallowed mound a token
of honor and remembrance. The day
was drawing to a close when the work
was done, and silently tlie actors in this
pageant of love and duty withdrew and
left the martyred Dead to Nature’s watch
and ward.
God give them a peaceful sleep! Let
the murmur of the Ocmulgee, as it sweej s
on to the sea, and the tender whisper of
the winds among the trees that sentinel
this last bivouac, chant their requiem till
Time shall be no more. Their deeds,
their devotion, and their death are shrined
in the truest, tenderest hearts that ever
beat. The sweet perfume of their noble
sacrifice shall be a joy forever in souls
that mourn—and thank God—not with
out hope. Their images are painted in
colors that shall never, never fade upon
the canvass of loving memories, and their
names stand out in letters of living light
upon that page whereon are blazoned the
deeds of those that die lor Liberty.
[From the Columbus Sun k Times, April 28.]
MEMORIAL DAY.
Another sad memorial has passed, and
again have the fair women of Columbus
decked the graves of the Confederate
dead, who sleep in our cemetery, with
freshness and beauty. “ God’s acre,” a
touching Saxon phrase for the burial
groufid, had indeed been made a retreat of
loveliness. Flowers and evergreens, arch
es and various forms of grace and charm
had been brought in profusion to adorn
the last resting places*of those who nobly
donned the grey, and fought and bled
and died for us. Clouds, dark and
gloomy, suited to the fashion of every
soul, covered the Heavens like a grand
funeral pall. Nature seemed to sympa
tnize with tuesad memories and emotions
of each Southern heart, and in silence
spoke of the sorrow of the scene. The
grand old trees that in many places glow
so thickly in our cemetery, their trunks
still wearing “ the grey,” as sentinel-like
they guarded the dreamless slumber of
the departed, breathed a so;emu requiem
o'er the sleeping dust. Ihe tune was
sacr ed and holy, and even the birds war
bled forth a plaintive strain suggestive of
mournful thoughts, but brightened hopes
that glanced athwart the dim unknowu.
Ladies and men. in large crowds, were
present in the cemetery. No levity, no
indecorous gladness were apparent. Ail
honored our dead. Mho does not, in
graveyards, recall the lines :
“ We toil through pain and wrong ;
We fight and fly ;
We love, we lose ; and, then, ere long
Stone dead we lie.
O life, is all thy song
Endure —and die ?”
THE DECORATIONS.
The grave of each Confederate soldier
had been beautifully decorated with
choicest flowers and wreaths. Head
boards were erected last year. Some
ornamentations were exquisite in their
taste, and tlie whole cemetery rejoiced in
loveliness. The flowers and evergreens,
which had been planted most profusely
on previous years, bloomed gloriously,
and rare perfumes greeted the senses.
The custom of decorating the graves of
Southern soldiers originated in Colum
bus, and the time has been observed
thrice with a marked degree of awe and
solemnity. Every trace of weed and
noxious grass had been removed. In the
lower grounds had been erected a lovely
arbor, composed of flowers, mosses and
evergreens, a beautifully embowered re
treat.
THE MONUMENT
has been built in the upper grounds. It
is of wood, painted white, and some forty
feet high. Sexagonal is the form. The
roof is supported by six columns. Sur
mounting tlie dome is a small circle on
which is painted in black letters fringed
with gold, “Brig. Gen. Paul J. Scmmes.”
Just below the roof, on arches, appear
the names of Confederate Colonels from
Columbus, who were killed ; ou the pil
lars are painted in black letters the
names of other officers, and on the base
(about six feet high) in a scroll, on each
side, the names of the subordinates and
privates. On yesterday, we counted the
names of one General, six Colonels, forty
eight other officers and two hundred and
seventy-four non-commissioned officers
and privates. A number ol other names
are to be added. The design aud erec
tion are quite unique and handsome.
Yesterday this elegant cenotaph was
bright with wreaths of most magnificent
flowers.
THE FIRST ONE KILLED.
In strolling over the grounds yesterday
morning, we found on a circular board,
bordered gracefully with evergreens, the
following inscription:
*’" "THOMAS \v. EVERETT, ;
; Georgia Greys, ;
I The first who tell lrom Columbus. ;
He was killed at Santa Rosa Island, off
Pensacola.
In every quarter, in abundance, were
seen the bright “floral apostles,” that
blush without shame and pale without a
fear,
THE POSTPONEMENT.
It was intended to have the anniversary
on Sunday, the 26th, but the hard rains
of that afternoon prevented. The dec
orations were mostly placed on the
graves Saturday, Sunday and yesterday
morning.
FUNERAL OF LT. C. A. DAILY.
This took place at the Episcopal
Church, at 34 p. m. Rev. Mr. Fulton
intoned the beautiful service. He wa>
assisted by Bishop Young, of Florida,
and Rev. Mr. Dennison, of Ala. tic
delivered a touching eulogy upon the
deceased, and recited most feelingly the
incidents of his death at Gettysburg:.
T 1 ie Columbus Guards, under command
of Major R. Ellis, acted as military es
cort, preceded by a brass band, playing
a funeral dirge, and the procession moved
to the grave, where, in a private yar i,
the remains were committed to the
ground. In the procession were all the
city pastors, and that noble Confederate
chieftain, the fearless, chivalrous Gcu.
Beuning and staff.
AT THE CENOTAPH.
When the funeral was over, all re
paired to the cenotaph. Within were
seated Mr. 1). P. Ellis, Rev. T. B. Slade,
Father Cullman, Dr. Colzey and Maju‘
11. J. Moses. The clouds looked rainy,
but hundreds were collected around. Mr.
Ellis announced, the programme lor the
afternoon. A most beautiful anthem
was sung, after which Mr. Slade offered
up prayer. Dr. Colzey, then, in a grace
ful manner, introduced Major R. J. Mosep
the orator of the day.
THE ORATION.
To attempt a synopsis of this masterly,