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4 )^ r O&fr €C> 'HA 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,