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DECORATION DAY ON THE PLACE.
“Its lonesome-sorto' lonesome, -it's a Sund'y-day, to me,
On ev'ry soldier's grave I'd love to lay a lily there.
In pint o' fact, we're allus home on Decoration day. " They say the old boys marches through the streets in colum's grand,
A-follerin' the old war-tunes they're playin' on the band-
All marchin', under shelter of the old Red, White and Blue“ With roses! roses! roses!-ev'rybody in the town!
And crowds o'girls in white, jest fairly loaded down!-
Don't they see their com’ades coming and the old flag wavin' still?
They know that every day on earth's their Decoration day?
SEVENTH TOAST.—“The New Recruits."
Response by Mr. CHARLES M. SHERMAN, Nephew of General Sherman.
Mr. PRESIDENT, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN:
Twelve years ago, when your Society met here before, you were admonished by one of your speakers that in the hour of
your festivities you
should not forget the babies. This year your cominittee has followed his advice.
I cannot recall with you the incidents of the great war. not share with you the memories of camp and battle-field. But I can, I trust, share with you the sentiment which animated those
I canof war.
scenes, and which throbs to-night in the breast of every true citizen of this Republic.
An eminent scholar has said, that in times of national security, the feeling of patriotism among the masses is so quiescent that it seems hardly to exist. And to an unobserving mind, such might seem to be true of us now. But recent events have shown how slight a touch will rouse us from that lethargy; how jealous the watch wė keep upon our nation's honor; how dearly we love our flag
More than a score of years has passed since victory crowned your arms. In that time changes have been wrought which in any country but our own would have rounded a century of progress. A new generation has come upon the scene, unskilled in the arts
A generation following only the pursuits of peace. And while their hearts beat less wildly than did yours in the tragic time in which your youth was spent; I trust they beat with equal courage; I hope with equal loyalty.
That the call to arms which thirty years ago rang in your ears, shall never again be sounded in this land, is the hope of young and old alike. But should it come I know you will find your example has not been in vain. As your inspiration came from Lexington and Bunker Hill, so ours shall come from Shiloh and Atlanta.
And this time too, thank God, that call shall not be heard alone by people in the North; but borne upon a friendly breeze, it will ring through sunny cotton-fields; through cane brake and plantation; on, on and on, until the winds from off the southern gulf alone shall check its flight.
Its echo will be the tramp of soldiers' clad in loyal blue, whose hearts shall beat and whose foot steps shall keep pace, not to the notes of “The Bonny Blue Flag,” but to the rattling air of “ Yankee Doodle.” At the head of their great column, borne triumphantly aloft, free flung to the heavens, shall wave the fair banner of the Republic. Radiant with its stripes of red and white, and bearing that bright sisterhood of stars more beautiful to the eyes than the flaming planets of the heavens.
And when this southern band, marching toward their nation's citadel, shall meet their brothers from the North, and blended in one vast army, shoulder to shoulder, shall advance against the common foe; how glorious then shall seem your victory; how triumphant then will be your cause.
Need I describe the deeds by which this victory was won? Need I recall the names to whom our nation's debt is due? History has told that glorious tale, and nations have paid tribute to the genius of your leaders. But far beyond the praise of man; sweeter far than flattery's voice, or poet's note of song, is the consciousness of duty well performed, and the knowledge that your nation's life is safe.
All hail the Army of the Tennessee! All hail the glory of its cause!
The new recruits salute this veteran band, now on its last great march! With reverence they bare their heads as passes the riderless horse of him who dwells in loving memory in all our minds to-night. Good bye, General. God bless you. And God bless the men living and dead who followed your gallant command.
Eighth TOAST.—“ The Volunteers."
Response by General EDWARD S. BRAGG.
MR. PRESIDENT, MEMBERS OF THE SOCIETY OF THE ARMY OF
THE TENNESSEE, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN:
It was not my good fortune, although a Western man, in 1861 to have my lot cast as a soldier with the army of the West, and hence I could not share in your hardships, neither could I join you in praise over the glorious successes which were won and made an imperishable record for the pages of history and annals of war by the Army of the Tennessee. My baptism of fire came to me elsewhere. It came to me where the battle a long time hung in even balance; it came upon the bloody fields of Maryland and Virginia, where thousands and tens of thousands of the best in the land went down and were buried, monuments of patriotism, for their country's good. But although that was my fate, I feel that we were comrades engaged in a common cause, seeking a common end, and hence I may say:
" Comrades proved by faith the clearest,
Brothers ever more to be." Inspired by the feeling of comaraderie as one of the atoms that made the glorious army of the Union in the war of the rebellion, I rise to-night, by your courtesy, to respond to the sentiment, “The Volunteers.” The world looked amazed at the gigantic preparations made for war after the Bull Run scratch. It was a scratch that was a national disgrace. But like the toad, ugly and venomous, it had a precious jewel in its head. It emboldened our enemies, it aroused the Northern heart as it had never been aroused before. It gave an insight into the future-not then fully realized save but by a few-that a namby pamby policy of 75,000 men for ninety days and peace in sixty was the greatest humbug of the century. It forced the nation with its representatives to stand up nearly abreast with popular sentiment, that, let come what may, this Union shall be preserved and the head of the snake of secession shall be crushed under the iron heel of the war. Nee.. I ask you who the volunteers were! They came from hillside, from valley, from village, from the cot, from the town, from the city, they came from the colleges. The intelligent mechanic was there; the sturdy son of the farmer was there. The people's college, the little log schoolhouse was there in force. The choicest and best of all the gifts that were there was the mother who gave her rosycheeked boy as a sacrifice, if need be, for the country's perpetuity. With as much faith she led him up to that altar as did Abraham when he took his Isaac at the command of his Maker to render
She had a faith and that faith went to her boy. The world was amazed again to see what such an army could do. It was an army of brains and not an army of matter.
One, if not the brightest star shining with the greatest brilliancy at the close of the war, stands in the same relation to us which Jupiter bears to the sun. His military career commenced by the loyal press stigmatizing him as insane, and he closed campaign after campaign more brilliant than the world had ever seen by being suspected through the channels of the same press of disloyalty in North Carolina because he dared trust his comrade in arms. William Tecumseh Sherman was a volunteer.
Rejected as city surveyor in St. Louis; the son of a tanner and a clerk in the office, with difficulty securing a commission from the great state of Illinois where we now are, the hero of Vicksburg and the victor of Appomattox—the incomparable Grantwas a volunteer.
With such men in line and with such men to direct and lead the line, with the fire of an inspired patriotism glowing in their hearts, brighter and brighter, as march after march and battle after
battle was fought, where was there any force in this world that could have conquered such matter as that?
They might be repulsed. but they were only repulsed to come again with vastly greater momentum than they had before; and they needed it all, because the men they were fighting were of like mettle with themselves. William and Mary, the University of Virginia, and the colleges of the South had sent their brain too, and it was brain against brain, and in that battle we won, because our cause was just.
It boots but little to speak of the battle, the sieges, the marches, the suffering, the dying, and the dead of war. It is the same thing from the skirmish expanded to the greatest battle. It is enough for us to say that the volunteer army was great, measured by the results, which is the measure that will determine actually what merit is. They brought back into this Union thirteen states. They did more than that.. They brought back to us, by the family fireside, to gather with us as brothers, the bravest men that we had met during that long war, the choicest blood, the choicest chivalry, the finest spirit of the South. They increased our family by that addition; and they did more than that. They, by that restoration to this country, have joined with them the sons of the men with whom we battled, to stand shoulder to shoulder and keep the touch of elbow with our sons, if any nation on the face of God's earth ever dare have the impudence to insinuate they could whip us in a battle.
It is for us, for you, to preserve the record and memory of such men, to keep alive for those of your comrades who are dead, all their noble deeds of daring, all of their patriotic devotion to the country.
I regret to say that the tendency of the age is such that the drift of time is sweeping a species of sand so as to wipe out the line of demarckation between what was well understood in time of war were the component factors of the army. The volunteer is fast being confounded with the conscript, and the conscript, noble he is beside the other class I shall allude to, is being confounded with the patriot for revenue of 1863–64–65. And there is still another class whose memory is dear to me as it is to you, and whose memory should be dear under every roof and wherever the American language is spoken or an American heart beats. I mean the veteran volunteer-a word, to those who understand its import,