{
  "schema": "tga.work.v1",
  "identifier": "dresden:vol-9:decoration-day-oration",
  "slug": "decoration-day-oration",
  "title": "Decoration Day Oration",
  "subtitle": "Academy of Music, New York — GAR Memorial Celebration.",
  "excerpt": "Ingersoll's oration at the Grand Army of the Republic Decoration Day celebration — Academy of Music, New York — one of the great American Memorial Day addresses.",
  "year": 1882,
  "volume": 9,
  "category": "Political",
  "author": {
    "name": "Robert G. Ingersoll",
    "wikidata": "Q360326",
    "viaf": "44331023"
  },
  "isPartOf": {
    "title": "The Works of Robert G. Ingersoll",
    "edition": "Dresden Edition",
    "publisher": "C. P. Farrell",
    "year": 1900
  },
  "license": "https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/",
  "url": "https://thegreatagnostic.com/works/decoration-day-oration/",
  "wordCount": 3449,
  "body": "• At the Memorial Celebration of the Grand Army of the\n    Republic last evening the Academy of Music was filled to\n    overflowing, within a few minutes after the opening of the\n    doors.\n    Gen. Hancock was the first arrival of importance. The\n    Governor's Island band accepted this as a signal for the\n    overture. The Academy was tastefully decorated. The three\n    balconies were covered, the first with blue cloth, the\n    second with white and national bunting, studded with the\n    insignia of the original thirteen States, and the family\n    circle with red. Over the centre of the stage the national\n    flag and device hung suspended, and was held In its place by\n    flying streamers extending to the boxes. The latter were\n    draped with flags, relieved by antique armor and weapons—\n    shields, casques and battle axes and crossed swords and\n    pikes.\n    At 8.05 the curtain slowly rose, and discovered to the view\n    of the audience, a second audience reaching back to the\n    farthest depths of the scenes. These were the fortunate\n    holders of stage tickets, and comprised a great number of\n    distinguished men.\n    Among them were noticed Gen. Horace Porter, Gen. Lloyd\n    Aspinwall, Gen. Daniel Butterfield, Gen. D. D. Wylie, Gen.\n    Charles Roome, Gen. W. Palmer, Gen. John Cochrane, Gen. H.\n    G. Tremaine, the Hon. Edward Pierrepont, Dep't. Commander\n    James M. Fraser, the Hon. Carl Schurz, August Belmont, Henry\n    Clews, Dr. Lewis A. Sayre, Charles Scribner, Jesse Seligman,\n    William Dowa, Henry Bergh and George William Curtis. Gen.\n    Bamum came upon the stage followed by President Arthur,\n    Gen's. Grant and Hancock, Secretaries Folger and Brewster,\n    ex-Senator Roscoe Conkling, Mayor Grace and the Rev. J. P.\n    Newman. Gen. Hancock's brilliant uniform made him a very\n    conspicuous figure, and he served as a foil to the plain\n    evening dress of Gen. Grant, who was separated from him by\n    the portly form of the President.\n    Gen. James McQuade, the President of the day, rose and\n    uncovering a flag which draped a sort of patriotic altar in\n    front of him, announced that It was the genuine flag upon\n    which was written the famous order, \"If any man pull down\n    the American flag, shoot him on the spot.' * This was the\n    signal for round after round of applause, while Gen. McQuade\n    waved this precious relic of the past. The time had now come\n    for the introduction of the orator of the evening, Col.\n    Robert G. Ingersoll. Col. Ingersoll stepped across the stage\n    to the reading desk, and was received with an ovation of\n    cheering and waving of handkerchiefs.\n    After the enthusiasm had somewhat abated, a gentleman in one\n    of the boxes shouted: \"Three-cheers for Ingersoll.\"\n    These were given with a will, the excitement quieted down\n    and the orator spoke as follows '.—The New York Times. May\n    31st, 1883.\n\nNew York City.\n\n1882.\n\nTHIS day is sacred to our heroes dead. Upon their tombs we have lovingly\nlaid the wealth of Spring.\n\nThis is a day for memory and tears. A mighty Nation bends above its\nhonored graves, and pays to noble dust the tribute of its love.\n\nGratitude is the fairest flower that sheds its perfume in the heart.\n\nTo-day we tell the history of our country's life—recount the lofty\ndeeds of vanished years—the toil and suffering, the defeats and\nvictories of heroic men,—of men who made our Nation great and free.\n\nWe see the first ships whose prows were gilded by the western sun. We\nfeel the thrill of discovery when the New World was found. We see the\noppressed, the serf, the peasant and the slave, men whose flesh had\nknown the chill of chains—the adventurous, the proud, the brave,\nsailing an unknown sea, seeking homes in unknown lands. We see the\nsettlements, the little clearings, the blockhouse and the fort, the rude\nand lonely huts. Brave men, true women, builders of homes, fellers of\nforests, founders of States.\n\nSeparated from the Old World,—away from the heartless distinctions\nof caste,—away from sceptres and titles and crowns, they governed\nthemselves. They defended their homes; they earned their bread. Each\ncitizen had a voice, and the little villages became republics. Slowly\nthe savage was driven back. The days and nights were filled with fear,\nand the slow years with massacre and war, and cabins' earthen floors\nwere wet with blood of mothers and their babes.\n\nBut the savages of the New World were kinder than the kings and nobles\nof the Old; and so the human tide kept coming, and the places of the\ndead were filled. Amid common dangers and common hopes, the prejudiced\nand feuds of Europe faded slowly from their hearts. From every land,\nof every speech, driven by want and lured by hope, exiles and emigrants\nsought the mysterious Continent of the West.\n\nYear after year the colonists fought and toiled and suffered and\nincreased. They began to talk about liberty—to reason of the rights of\nman. They * t asked no help from distant kings, and they began to doubt\nthe use of paying tribute to the useless. They lost respect for dukes\nand lords, and held in high esteem all honest men. There was the dawn\nof a new day. They began to dream of independence. They found that\nthey could make and execute the laws. They had tried the experiment of\nself-government. They had succeeded. The Old World wished to dominate\nthe New. In the care and keeping of the colonists was the destiny of\nthis Continent—of half the world.\n\nOn this day the story of the great struggle between colonists and kings\nshould be told. We should tell our children of the contest—first\nfor justice, then for freedom. We should tell them the history of\nthe Declaration of Independence—the chart and compass of all human\nrights:—All men are equal, and have the right to life, to liberty and\njoy.\n\nThis Declaration uncrowned kings, and wrested from the hands of titled\ntyranny the sceptre of usurped and arbitrary power. It superseded royal\ngrants, and repealed the cruel statutes of a thousand years. It gave the\npeasant a career; it knighted all the sons of toil; it opened all the\npaths to fame, and put the star of hope above the cradle of the poor\nman's babe.\n\nEngland was then the mightiest of nations—mistress of every sea—and\nyet our fathers, poor and few, defied her power.\n\nTo-day we remember the defeats, the victories, the disasters, the weary\nmarches, the poverty, the hunger, the sufferings, the agonies, and above\nall, the glories of the Revolution. We remember all—from Lexington to\nValley Forge, and from that midnight of despair to Yorktown's cloudless\nday. We remember the soldiers and thinkers—the heroes of the sword and\npen. They had the brain and heart, the wisdom and courage to utter\nand defend these words: \"Governments derive their just powers from the\nconsent of the governed.\" In defence of this sublime and self-evident\ntruth the war was waged and won.\n\nTo-day we remember all the heroes, all the generous and chivalric men\nwho came from other lands to make ours free. Of the many thousands who\nshared the gloom and glory of the seven sacred years, not one remains.\nThe last has mingled with the earth, and nearly all are sleeping now\nin unmarked graves, and some beneath the leaning, crumbling stones from\nwhich their names have been effaced by Time's irreverent and relentless\nhands. But the Nation they founded remains. The United States are still\nfree and independent. The \"government derives its just power from\nthe consent of the governed,\" and fifty millions of free people remember\nwith gratitude the heroes of the Revolution.\n\nLet us be truthful; let us be kind. When peace came, when the\nindependence of a new Nation was acknowledged, the great truth for\nwhich our fathers fought was half denied, and the Constitution was\ninconsistent with the Declaration. The war was waged for liberty, and\nyet the victors forged new fetters for their fellow-men. The chains our\nfathers broke were put by them upon the limbs of others. \"Freedom for\nAll\" was the cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night, through seven\nyears of want and war. In peace the cloud was forgotten and the pillar\nblazed unseen.\n\nLet us be truthful; all our fathers were not true to themselves. In\nwar they had been generous, noble and self-sacrificing; with peace came\nselfishness and greed. They were not great enough to appreciate the\ngrandeur of the principles for which they fought. They ceased to regard\nthe great truths as having universal application. \"Liberty for\nAll\" included only themselves. They qualified the Declaration. They\ninterpolated the word \"white.\" They obliterated the word \"All.\"\n\nLet us be kind. We will remember the age in which they lived. We will\ncompare them with the citizens of other nations. They made merchandise\nof men. They legalized a crime. They sowed the seeds of war. But they\nfounded this Nation.\n\nLet us gratefully remember.\n\nLet us gratefully forget.\n\nTo-day we remember the heroes of the second war with England, in which\nour fathers fought for the freedom of the seas—for the rights of the\nAmerican sailor. We remember with pride the splendid victories of Erie\nand Champlain and the wondrous achievements upon the sea—achievements\nthat covered our navy with a glory that neither the victories nor\ndefeats of the future can dim. We remember the heroic services and\nsufferings of those who fought the merciless savage of the frontier.\nWe see the midnight massacre, and hear the war-cries of the allies of\nEngland. We see the flames climb around the happy homes, and in the\ncharred and blackened ruins the mutilated bodies of wives and children.\nPeace came at last, crowned with the victory of New Orleans—a victory\nthat \"did redeem all sorrows\" and all defeats.\n\nThe Revolution gave our fathers a free land—the War of 1812 a free sea.\n\nTo-day we remember the gallant men who bore our flag in triumph from the\nRio Grande to the heights of Chapultepec.\n\nLeaving out of question the justice of our cause—the necessity for\nwar—we are yet compelled to applaud the marvelous courage of our\ntroops. A handful of men, brave, impetuous, determined, irresistible,\nconquered a nation. Our history has no record of more daring deeds.\n\nAgain peace came, and the Nation hoped and thought that strife was at\nan end. We had grown too powerful to be attacked. Our resources were\nboundless, and the future seemed secure. The hardy pioneers moved to the\ngreat West. Beneath their ringing strokes the forests disappeared, and\non the prairies waved the billowed seas of wheat and corn. The great\nplains were crossed, the mountains were conquered, and the foot of\nvictorious adventure pressed the shore of the Pacific. In the great\nNorth all the streams went singing to the sea, turning wheels and\nspindles, and casting shuttles back and forth. Inventions were springing\nlike magic from a thousand brains. From Labor's holy altars rose and\nleaped the smoke and flame, and from the countless forges ran the chant\nof rhythmic stroke.\n\nBut in the South, the negro toiled unpaid, and mothers wept while babes\nwere sold, and at the auction-block husbands and wives speechlessly\nlooked the last good-bye. Fugitives, lighted by the Northern Star,\nsought liberty on English soil, and were, by Northern men, thrust back\nto whip and chain. The great statesmen, the successful politicians,\nannounced that law had compromised with crime, that justice had been\nbribed, and that time had barred appeal. A race was left without a\nright, without a hope. The future had no dawn, no star—nothing but\nignorance and fear, nothing but work and want. This, was the conclusion\nof the statesmen, the philosophy of the politicians—of constitutional\nexpounders:—this was decided by courts and ratified by the Nation.\n\nWe had been successful in three wars. We had wrested thirteen colonies\nfrom Great Britain. We had conquered our place upon the high seas. We\nhad added more than two millions of square miles to the national domain.\nWe had increased in population from three to thirty-one millions. We\nwere in the midst of plenty. We were rich and free. Ours appeared to\nbe the most prosperous of Nations. But it was only appearance. The\nstatesmen and the politicians were deceived. Real victories can be won\nonly for the Right. The triumph of Justice is the only Peace. Such is\nthe nature of things. He who enslaves another cannot be free. He who\nattacks the right, assaults himself. The mistake our fathers made had\nnot been corrected. The foundations of the Republic were insecure. The\ngreat dome of the temple was clad in the light of prosperity, but\nthe corner-stones were crumbling. Four millions of human beings were\nenslaved. Party cries had been mistaken for principles—partisanship\nfor patriotism—success for justice.\n\nBut Pity pointed to the scarred and bleeding backs of slaves; Mercy\nheard the sobs of mothers reft of babes, and Justice held aloft the\nscales, in which one drop of blood shed by a master's lash, outweighed a\nNation's gold. There were a few men, a few women, who had the courage to\nattack this monstrous crime. They found it entrenched in constitutions,\nstatutes, and decisions—barricaded and bastioned by every department\nand by every party. Politicians were its servants, statesmen its\nattorneys, judges its menials, presidents its puppets, and upon its\ncruel altar had been sacrificed our country's honor. It was the crime of\nthe Nation—of the whole country—North and South responsible alike.\n\nTo-day we reverently thank the abolitionists. Earth has no grander\nmen—no nobler women. They were the real philanthropists, the true\npatriots. When the will defies fear, when the heart applauds the\nbrain, when duty throws the gauntlet down to fate, when honor scorns to\ncompromise with death,—this is heroism. The abolitionists were heroes.\nHe loves his country best who strives to make it best. The bravest men\nare those who have the greatest fear of doing wrong. Mere politicians\nwish the country to do something for them. True patriots desire to do\nsomething for their country. Courage without conscience is a wild beast.\nPatriotism without principle is the prejudice of birth, the animal\nattachment to place. These men, these women, had courage and conscience,\npatriotism and principle, heart and brain.\n\nThe South relied upon the bond,—upon a barbarous clause that stained,\ndisfigured and defiled the Federal pact, and made the monstrous claim\nthat slavery was the Nation's ward. The spot of shame grew red in\nNorthern cheeks, and Northern men declared that slavery had poisoned,\ncursed and blighted soul and soil enough, and that the Territories must\nbe free. The radicals of the South cried: \"No Union without Slavery!\"\nThe radicals of the North replied: \"No Union without Liberty!\" The\nNorthern radicals were right. Upon the great issue of free homes for\nfree men, a President was elected by the free States. The South appealed\nto the sword, and raised the standard of revolt. For the first time in\nhistory the oppressors rebelled.\n\nBut let us to-day be great enough to forget individuals,—great enough\nto know that slavery was treason, that slavery was rebellion, that\nslavery fired upon our flag and sought to wreck and strand the mighty\nship that bears the hope and fortune of this world. The first shot\nliberated the North. Constitution, statutes and decisions, compromises,\nplatforms, and resolutions made, passed, and ratified in the interest of\nslavery became mere legal lies, base and baseless. Parchment and paper\ncould no longer stop or stay the onward march of man. The North was\nfree. Millions instantly resolved that the Nation should not die—that\nFreedom should not perish, and that Slavery should not live.\n\nMillions of our brothers, our sons, our fathers, our husbands, answered\nto the Nation's call.\n\nThe great armies have desolated the earth. The greatest soldiers have\nbeen ambition's dupes. They waged war for the sake of place and pillage,\npomp and power,—for the ignorant applause of vulgar millions,—for the\nflattery of parasites, and the adulation of sycophants and slaves.\n\nLet us proudly remember that in our time the greatest, the grandest, the\nnoblest army of the world fought, not to enslave, but to free; not to\ndestroy, but to save; not for conquest, but for conscience; not only for\nus, but for every land and every race.\n\nWith courage, with enthusiasm, with a devotion' never excelled, with an\nexaltation and purity of purpose never equaled, this grand army fought\nthe battles of the Republic. For the preservation of this Nation, for\nthe destruction of slavery, these soldiers, these sailors, on land and\nsea, disheartened by no defeat, discouraged by no obstacle, appalled by\nno danger, neither paused nor swerved until a stainless flag, without\na rival, floated over all our wide domain, and until every human being\nbeneath its folds was absolutely free.\n\nThe great victory for human rights—the greatest of all the years—had\nbeen won; won by the Union men of the North, by the Union men of the\nSouth, and by those who had been slaves. Liberty was national, Slavery\nwas dead.\n\nThe flag for which the heroes fought, for which they died, is the symbol\nof all we are, of all we hope to be.\n\nIt is the emblem of equal rights.\n\nIt means free hands, free lips, self-government and the sovereignty of\nthe individual.\n\nIt means that this continent has been dedicated to freedom.\n\nIt means universal education,—light for every mind, knowledge for every\nchild.\n\nIt means that the schoolhouse is the fortress of Liberty.\n\nIt means that \"Governments derive their just powers from the consent of\nthe governed;\" that each man is accountable to and for the Government;\nthat responsibility goes hand in hand with liberty.\n\nIt means that it is the duty of every citizen to bear his share of the\npublic burden,—to take part in the affairs of his town, his county, his\nState and his country.\n\nIt means that the ballot-box is the Ark of the Covenant; that the source\nof authority must not be poisoned.\n\nIt means the perpetual right of peaceful revolution. It means that every\ncitizen of the Republic—native or naturalized—must be protected; at\nhome, in every State,—abroad, in every land, on every sea.\n\nIt means that all distinctions based on birth or blood, have perished\nfrom our laws; that our Government shall stand between labor and\ncapital, between the weak and the strong, between the individual and the\ncorporation, between want and wealth, and give the guarantee of simple\njustice to each and all.\n\nIt means that there shall be a legal remedy for every wrong.\n\nIt means national hospitality,—that we must welcome to our shores the\nexiles of the world, and that we may not drive them back. Some may\nbe deformed by labor, dwarfed by hunger, broken in spirit, victims of\ntyranny and caste,—in whose sad faces may be read the touching record\nof a weary life; and yet their children, born of liberty and love, will\nbe symmetrical and fair, intelligent and free.\n\nThat flag is the emblem of a supreme will—of a Nation's power. Beneath\nits folds the weakest must be protected and the strongest must obey. It\nshields and canopies alike the loftiest mansion and the rudest hut.\nThat flag was given to the air in the Revolution's darkest days. It\nrepresents the sufferings of the past, the glories yet to be; and like\nthe bow of heaven, it is the child of storm and sun.\n\nThis day is sacred to the great heroic host who kept this flag above\nour heads,—sacred to the living and the dead—sacred to the scarred and\nmaimed,—sacred to the wives who gave their husbands, to the mothers who\ngave their sons.\n\nHere in this peaceful land of ours,—here where the sun shines, where\nflowers grow, where children play, millions of armed men battled for the\nright and breasted on a thousand fields the iron storms of war.\n\nThese brave, these incomparable men, founded the first Republic. They\nfulfilled the prophecies; they brought to pass the dreams; they realized\nthe hopes, that all the great and good and wise and just have made and\nhad since man was man.\n\nBut what of those who fell? There is no language to express the debt we\nowe, the love we bear, to all the dead who died for us. Words are but\nbarren sounds. We can but stand beside their graves and in the hush and\nsilence feel what speech has never told.\n\nThey fought, they died; and for the first time since man has kept a\nrecord of events, the heavens bent above and domed a land without a\nserf, a servant or a slave.\n"
}