The Hartshorne Sun. (Hartshorne, Okla.), Vol. 22, No. 22, Ed. 1 Thursday, May 25, 1916 Page: 3 of 8
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Group of Yonng Patriots
The Old Color-Bearer
Through the city's crowded highway*,
Marches ob the color-bearer;
White his hair dalle to his shoulders,
Whits as Colorado's mountains.
Proud he bears aloft the standard.
Proud he bors It In the Sixties;
Keaesaw and Lookout Mountain,
High above the clouds It floated.
Heed, ye young man, heed the lesson.
Keep untarnished all Its glory;
Olory kindling flrst at Concord,
Spreading West to for Malolos.
Heed ye! Heed ye well the lesson!
Grow not up untrained tor battle;
Sell ye not your precious birthright
For a sordid mess of pottage.
Chant our epic, fellow-patriots.
Firmly weld the new-come aliens;
Tell of Preacott, Kale and Reynolds,
Custer, Benchley and young Cheney.
Thus will all the wars and rumors
Fade away as fades the twilight,
True to sll our fathers died for.
Firm we'll march adown the ages.
—O. W. Taylor In Uncle Yarn's Magazine.
44
OF PAST YEARS
▲CRILEGE, we would have
. called It In my girlhood,
^ j to have (ailed to give
very able assistance in
celebrating Memorial day," aaid a
woman of middle age. "There was,
Brat of all, the delight of gathering
the flowera. How eagerly we watched
the bushes, hoping that the loveliest
bloomi would open In time, or delay
their coming till the great day. Peo-
nies we could count on. Snowballs
helped, despite their droopiness, and
iplrea waa always to be bad. We
griped in admiration over Miss Amy's
contributions of exquisite garlands of
the pliable bridal wreath, with touches
of scarlet columbine, or the faint pink
at wild honeysuckle clustered here and
there, but we could never evolve any-
thing half so lovely. They were at
snce our Joy and our despair."
Boys were useful wh^n it came to
wild-flower gathering, even if picking
garden posies was not their forte,
rhey knew where early laurel and wild
azalea were to be found and they
could be trusted to bring home colum-
bine, wild geranium and buttercups.
For there never was a Memorial day
with too many flowers. There was
the town hall to decorate, where the
reterans assembled for a brief ses-
sion before the march to the ceme-
tery. The O. A. R. ladies saw to that,
and beautiful It was to childish eyes
when, brave with bunting and odorous
with flowers, yon saw.it the night
before^ under the shelter of mother's
infolding (Ingham apron.
There is only one proper sort of
bouquet tor village Memorial day, and
sorry would one woman be should she
sver see It superseded by anything
modem. An up-to-date florist would
be horrified at Its make-up and bewail
Its lack of grace; an artist might
take it as a horrible example of crud-
ity of color scheme. .But to many, the
stiff, tightly-tied bunch of posies, con-
ical, or bullet-shaped, or flattened into
a parti-colored disk, means mingled
pathos and pleasure. To the making
of these aoeegfiys went all the patience
and the primitive taste of the grown
of the household. There
be a roeebud tor the center,
grows In the house—tor garden roses
were still sleeping, and florists were a
needless luxury In the town of girl-
hood days and brought to pvnetual
pertecttea by mech watering and sun-
ning. then in emet order of preee-
denoa, clrwle upon circle, came spfm
pi**#, white or polo mauve, mqc*
ange. candytuft, panstss, purple *n4
fellow, with an endrding fringe «f
lilies of the toller. And around all,
twastho
•tripod ilwisrn— of ribbon grass.
' II was rsdol—t of spley sweetness
*pt of loving care, even If It were not
aitlsUs. this Pssssstlon day bougnst.
were ranged m bewls, In case any sol-
dier be forgotten. Should there be
any such, away raced Tom or John-
ny, Will or Frank, or tomboy Nell, If
the boys had all followed the drum
corps, to supply the lack, glad *o be of
use on this day of days, and pleased
with the grateful "Thank you" of the
recipient. "One Memorial day, a trag-
ic day that I shall never forget," said
the lady of the letter, "grandmother
promised that I should help make Un-
cle Henry's bouquet, an honor that
seldom fell to an eight-year-old. To-
gether Aunt Emily and I constructed
the masterpiece, a triumph in bouquet
building, for the climbing rose bloomed
early that year, and our scheme was
Bimple yellow and white. But Memo-
rial day morning brought some child-
ish ailment, and when Uncle Henry,
resplendent in his uniform as a cap-
tain of volunteers, and carrying a silk
flag Just presented to the company,
rode up to the door for his flowers, he
found a weeping small girl clutching
the bouquet and pushing away the
sticky balsam remedy that was grand-
mother's panacea for all aches.
"In an InBtant he was ofT his horse
and down on his knees, spoon in hand,
coaxing me to obedience. In a frantic
attempt to be good I Jarred his elbow,
and the contents of the tablespoon
splashed down over his spotless uni-
form and the shimmering red, white
and blue of the banner. In the gen-
eral confusion that followed, the white
and yellow pyramid got badly dam-
aged, and all that I recall of the re-
mainder of that holiday is the quiet
haven of a big four-poster in a raft-
ered room, and a comforting grand-
mother, who read me to sleep out of
her illustrated Bible.
Parades were personal affairs In
those days. Every other man in the
procession was a friend, or at least
an acquaintance. You knew even the
distinguished gentlemen In the car-
riages. In the first rode the squire
and the First church minister, escort*
Ing the orator of the day, Hon. Mr.
Brown, congressman of the district
Judge Smith and the school superin-
tendent, with the editor of the Dally
News, came next, and so on down the
line of lesser notabilities. Cheers were
loudest when the crippled, age-worn
veterans rode by. In the village band-
wagon, followed by Qrand Army men
who were still able-bodied. A goodly
array they presented In that decade.
More than half have gone since.
Every man who could hobble held
his place in the line till the cemetery
was reached. There was a thrill in
every blue coat, in each bit of tarn-
ished metal, a story in the empty
sleeve, a tale of adventure in halting
step and twisted back. Bull Run and
Chancellorsville, Gettysburg and An-
tletam, were nenr at hand when the
thin blue columns passed us by. At
the end of the company, the last *"■"
of all In the procession, one girl knew,
there came Inevitably German Charlie,
general utility man In the newspaper
office, so bent and crippled by wounds
and rheumatic pains that his treacher-
ous legs could not be relied on to kesp
time to the martial strains of the hand.
But he plodded along, eyea ahiwing
under his service hat brim, a posy In
his button-hole, a loyal veteran of the
Union army he had enlisted In when
a boyish Immigrant, proud to the core
of his uniform ahd his right to wear It
German Charlie has gone, and so
have most of the men who marched
with him; and so. nlas, has some of
the spirit they kept alive.
DECORATION DAY
Flags and the band and marching—
Of faithful veteran feet.
Fathers, young men and children
With voices shrill and sweet;
AM Lincoln's spirit marching in every
lit i
Flags Sad the bead and marchlng-
Jwave.
May green open th* meadows
Gather the garland* rare today,
Snow-while roses and roaen red,
Gather the fairest flowera of Muy,
Heap them upon the heaps of cluy.
Gladden the grave* of the noble dead.
Thla day the frienda.of the soldiers keep.
And they wl!l keep it through alt the
years,
To the silent city where soldiers sleep
Will come with flowers, to watch and
weep
And water the garlands with their tears.
—Cy Warmun.
wieath tor hinss SaaS!
tor all the brave
with
MEMORHL DAY
DECORATION day, day of flags,
and flowers, and green, grass-
covered graveB. Decoration
day, the time of sobs and
tears, of prayers, and memories, and
smiles. Decoration day!
It comes only once a year, this brave
holiday, on the boundary line between
May and June, spring and summer-
time. Schools give n holiday and
banks close. Business is shut up, and
the tired worklngman hangs a flag
out over his porch, and rests. Old
soldiers, tottering on canes, soldiers
bent and white-headed, waiting for
the last "taps" to be sounded, get out
their suits sof blue and gray, covered
with tarniBhed gold lace and brass
buttons, and hobble to the cemetery
to lay a wreath on some comrade's
laBt resting place.
It is a beautiful thing to think of a
nation celebratyig a day—setting it
apart from all others—for the pur-
pose of honoring the nation's heroes.
I was sitting in a trolley car when
a lady entered—a woman no longer
very young, with a pale, sorrowful
face. She wore expensive black, and
her two carefully gloved hands held a
huge dewy mass of roses. Like an
oasis in a desert they filled the dusty
city air with sweetness and color. In
a little while a small newsboy dragged
himself up the step and presented a
grimy transfer to the conductor.
"I found It," he confided loudly to a
man seated near the door. Then he
tramped down the aisle, and climbed
up on the seat next to the lady.
"Them flow'rs are swell," he told her
in a soft, wondering tone of voice. "I
never saw any like 'em before." Rev-
erently he touched the nearest blos-
som with moist grimy fingers.
The lady moved down on the seat,
putting several feet of space between
herself and the small Intruder.
"Don't touch them!" she ordered
crossly.
Several blocks farther on she got
out her arms full of her fragrant bur-
den. With halting foostepe and tear-
fllled eyes, she turned in at a great
marble-columned cemetery gate. She
was taking her roses to lay on the
grave of some loved dead one. I waa
lorry for the woman; but I could not
nelp thinking of the little newsboy. He
was very much alive, and a single
lower would have meant paradise to
"ilm.
I know a girl who had a very dear
Friend—a friend who meant more to
tier than I could possibly put into
words. One day, the friend died and
eft her pluuged In grief. A year after,
the dead girl's birthday came around,
ind the day before the anniversary 1
happened to meet my friend on the
itreet. We went to tea together. I
Jid not speak to the absent one, but
suddenly, as we sat quietly gazing out
if the window, the girl began to talk.
"Margaret," she said, "something
tins been bothering me. I want to ask
you if I'm doing right."
'Perhaps I won't help any. I'm not
bo good at advice—but go on,"
"You see, it's this way," she told me.
'Tomorrow Is Alice's birthday—the
first birthday when we haven't been
together for ten years. I had earned
live dollars—it seemed more personal
that way-^-and I was going to buy
flowers for her graVe. I was Just on
my way to the florist to order them
when I met a woman I know—a worn-
hn who used to wash for us. Mar-
garet you should have seen her. Her
eyes were large and black and her
cheeks were perfectly hollow. I naked
her what was the matter, and she said
she was hungry. Hungry? She was
starving! And so were the three chil-
dren that belonged to her! Well, I
told her that I would find some work
for her today, and then I gave her all
the money I had. It was only after
she had left mo that I remembered
Alice's flowers—1 can't get them now.
Do yon think that she'll mind—very
IWIlffh ***
'Mind?" I groped blindly for words.
"Mind) Qf course not! She would
bo glad and thankful if she only
know."
Do fen think so too, friends of mine?
One day this week I felt rather bios
and unhappy. It was a dark, gloomy
lay, with a biting wind coming around
the Monk corners and a heavy rain
(hat NO drsadtiagly to the gronnd-
a steady downpour of Hg splashing
on cheap paper, by nn unknown lady,
old enough to be my grandmother.
Hut the words, lightly written in an
old-fashioned hand, fell acroHH my
heart like a ray of golden sunshine,
through the grayness of the r tin.
"Dear Kriend." read the letter, "I
have been seeing your pieces in the
Christian llerulU for some time, and
I made up my mind to write to you.
Some people believo in keeping their
kind worilfl and their flowers and their
love until a person in dead. But I
don't I want you to know, right now,
that you've cheered me up lots of
times, ami that 1 like your stories and
that I like you.'*
Now, I don t want you to think that
I am disapproving of Decoration day.
The world is stupid enough and mat
ter-of-fact enough to forget easily the
heroes who lie in our cemeteries. But
we should consider the living, too. Let
us place roses over the little green
mounds, hut don't let us overlook the
pleading child-hands that are stretched
out for their sweetness. While we
honor the memory of those beautiful
spiritB that have passed from us, let
ub not forget the living, breathing
souls that need our help.
It Is not necessary to save all tho
flowers, the kind words and the kisses
until lips and hearts and minds are
cold and dead —Margaret E. Sangster,
Jr.. in the Christian Herald.
UNITY OF NATION PROVED
Great Southerner Long Ago Pointed
Out How Complete Has Been
Its Restoration.
From an juldress delivered by Henry
Watteraon at the National ceniotory,
Nashville. Tenn., Decoration day, 1S77.
We are assembled, my countrymen,
to commemorate the patriotism and
valor of the brave men who died to
save the Union. The season brings its
tribute to the scene; pays Its homage
to the dead; inspires the living. There
are images of tranquillity all about
ub; in the calm sunBhine upon the
ridges; in the tender shadows that
creep along the streams; in the wav-
ing grass and grain -that mark God's
love and bounty; in the flowers that
bloom over the many graves. There
is peace everywhere In this land to-
day.
Peace on the open seas,
In all o«r sheltered bays aai ample
streams,
Peace where'er our starry banner elcams,
And peace in every breeze.
The war 1b over. It is for us to
bury its passions with its dead; to
bury them beneath a monument raised
by the American people to American
manhood and the American system,
in order that "the nation shall, under
God, have a new birth of freedom and
that government of the people, by the
people, and for tho people shall not
perish from the earth,'"
The Union is, indeed, restored when
the hands that pulled down that flag
come willingly and lovingly to put it
up again. I come with a full heart
and a steady hand to salute the flag
that floats above me—my flag and
your flag—the flag of the free heart's
hope and home—the star spangled
banner of our fathers—the flag that,
uplifted triumphantly over a few brave
men, has never been obscured, des-
tined by the God of the universe to
waft on Its ample folds the eternal
song of freedom to all mankind, em-
blem of the power on earth which Is
destined to exceed that on which it
was Bald that the sun never went
down.
IMPRESSING YOUNG AMERICA
THE REVEILLE
lhuk! I hear the tramp of thousands,
l/iii uf armed men the hum;
Lo! a tuition's hosts have gathered
Hound the quirk alarming drum-
laying, "Come,
Freemen, come!
Ere your heritage be wasted," said the quick alarming drum.
"Let me of my heart take counsel:
H'dr is not of life the sum;
Who shall stay and reap the. harvest
When the autumn days shall comet"
But the. drum
Echoed, "Come!
Death shall reap the braver harvest," said the solemn-sounding drum.
"But when won the coming battle,
What of profit springs therefrom?.
What if conquest, subjugation,
Even greater ills bcromef"
But the drum
Atiswered, "Come!
You must do the sum to prove it," said the Yankee-answering drum.
"What if, 'mid the cannons' thunder,
Whistling shot and bursting bomb,
When my brothers fall around me.
Should my heart grow cold and numbt"
But the drum
Answered, "Come!
Better there in death united, than in life a recreant—Come!"
Thus they answered—hoping, fearing,
Some in faith, and doubting some,
Till a trumpet-voice proclaiming, j
Said, "My chosen people, come!" 1
Then the drum, ^
Lo! was dumb,
For the great heart of the nation, throbbing, answered, "'Lord, we corner
—BRET HARTE.
UniE LEFT OF
mneh steered. But my
Wasn't That Sort
Experience doss not show that tbe
strength of the domestic affections is
impaired by the long separations un-
avoidably Incident to war. On one oc-
a srttnto soldier said to Gen-
"Ocneral. 1 want to go
nr wife"
| * • sties yen have eees
SOLDIERS of 1865 who revisit
the town of Appomattox find
that the half-century which has
done so much for their country
has done nothing for the hamlet made
famous by the great event of Lee's
surrender.
Indeed, the place has gone back-
ward in fifty years. Its houses have
fallen into decay or have disappeared,
and its fields have grown up to pine.
The village of Appomattox Court-
house was never a considerable set-
tlement. Like many another county
seat in the South, it had Its origin in
a courthouse, a jail, a tavern, a house
or two and a blacksmith Bhop—a cen-
ter to which the inhabitants of a rural
district could come at intervals to
transact lc^al bnalntii.
A visitor to Appomattox Courthouse
today—or "old Appomattox," as It is
now called in that neighborhood—must
be disappointed, unless he has the
faculty of visualizing the momentous
events that took place there, and near
there, In April, 1865.
The court building had then stood
there half n century. About 1890 It
was burned. Today the square In which
the old courthouse stood is covered
with the debris of the fire, but out of
the wreckage trees have grown up
bb companions to those that* shaded
the old courthouse before the fire.
The village that clustered around
the courthouse has nearly disappeared.
Four old frame structures have sur-
vive^, fire, storm and neglect, but these
are sagging and out of joint and seem
soon to pass away. One or two of
these houses are tenantless. The tav-
ern, once the Appomattox hotel, Is the
home of a farmer and the overseer
of about 1,500 acres of adjacent land
now owned by Col. George A. Armes, n \
retired officer of the United States ?
army, who lives in Washington. An- {
other house is occupied by a small
farmer who has not dwelt long In that!
part of the state.
The Surrender house, the McLean
bouse, In which General Grant and
his staff met Lee and his military sec-
retary, Is not there. It was a broad-
fronted brick house with a covered
porch across the front with the en-
trance in the middle and a hallway
through the center.
The house was torn down In 1892.
It was proposed to reconstruct it at
the World's Fair in Chicago, but after
the demolition of the house the plan
was carried no further, presumably
for lack of funds. The piles of brick
and lumber that had been tbe houss
are rotting in the garden. There has
been some talk of a patriotic society!
building the house on its old site. I
An Interesting personal story goes'
with the history of the Surrender
bouse. It was the home of William
kclsnn, who had moved to Appomat-
tox from the vicinity of Bull Run, to
avoid the scenes of war that destroyed
the peace and safety of his family In :
1ML
McLean was a former, then living In !
n frame house near Manassas on the j
road leading to Blackburns Ford, on 1
Bull Run. July 18 the first fighting
between the troops of Gen. Irwin Mo>j
Do well and Gen. G. T. Beauregard took!
place at that ford, and General Bsnure-
gnrd took up his headquarters in tho
McLean house. A shall from a Union
battery struck the house.
After the battle of Bull Run. July SI,
1S61, McLean and hla family moved to
oppsr Fauquier county. He next moved
to Lonenburg county. War fallonsi
IMm. Then, doctoring that he
take his family so far from the fighting
grounds that war would not further
trouble them, he rented a house In the
hamlet of Appomattox. F*te made thia
house the Surrender house.
The McLean house near Mnnssimr
long ago was a ruin, but another house
near it, which Beauregard also used
as headquarters, is often erroneously
pointed out as the McLean house.
McLean's son—J. Wllmer McLean-
is a business man in Manassas—a ham-
let that since the war has grown Into
a thriving town.
The table in the McLean house at
Appomattox on which the articles of
surrender were written Is In tho Na-
tional museum at Washington. Tho
flag of truce under which the negotia-
tions between Grant and Lee were con-
ducted is also there, having been
loaned to that Institution by the wid-
ow of George M. Custer.
Colonel Whlttaker of Grant's staff,
who carried jthe flag, lives In Wash-
ington and is expected to take port In
the celebration at Appomattox.
Maj. George C. Rounds of
the war at Manassas, mho promoted
the Blue and Gray reunion on the field
of Bull Run, has promoted the coming
fraternal celebration at Appomattox.
Major Rounds hss been urging upon
the war department and congress tor
years the desirability of converting
the bnttlefields of Bull Run Into n na-
tional park He also takes a keen In-
terest In the future of Appomattox
Courthouse.
On the surrender ground is now n
dense pine growth, in which Is tho
only important monument at Appomat-
tox. it was erected by North Caro-
lina, April 9, 1905.
Though the Appomattox Courthouse
villsge of the Civil war period has
practically disappeared, there is a new
and thriving town called Appomattox,
which is now the county seat of Appo-
mattox county. It Is three miles from
old Appomattox and Is on the Nor-
folk A Western railroad.
During the Civil wnr there wes a
siding on this railroad culled Appomat-
tox stntlon. It was here that Custer
with his cavalry division got In front
of Lee. The place has grown to ho
the town which today Is called Ap-
pomattox.
When the old court building was de-
stroyed by lire, the courthouse waa re-
built at Appomattox station.'
FULLY PROTECTED
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Hunter, T. W. The Hartshorne Sun. (Hartshorne, Okla.), Vol. 22, No. 22, Ed. 1 Thursday, May 25, 1916, newspaper, May 25, 1916; (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc163123/m1/3/?q=%22United+States%22: accessed July 17, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.