THE MEMORIAL SERVICES.
The time at length arrived for laying away the unburied dead. Nobody
had recognized them. God alone knew them, and therefore to his sacred
earth were they consigned, that at the resurrection day he might bring
them forth to the knowledge of all. Garnered in the harvest of flame,
they were to be laid away in God’s store-house.
The hands of strangers were outstretched to bury them, for the hearts
of others could only mourn for them, without claiming the poor remnants
which were so unrecognizable.
Their sepulchre was in the stranger’s soil, though their memory was in
many a home.
The village of Ashtabula, made memorable by so direful a calamity, was
now to become the sacred burial place of these bodies which perished.
Most sacredly did the citizens of the place regard this trust, which
God in His providence had committed to them. No event in the history
of the place had so awakened sympathy and aroused the people, and now
every attention that was possible, was to be paid at the last sad
funeral rites. The town gave itself up to mourning. Arrangements had
been previously made for the occasion, and the authorities of the city,
the social organizations and the religious bodies were all prepared to
honor those who were to be laid away in their midst.
A beautiful lot had been chosen in the cemetery which overlooked the
whole city, and there, among the sacred remains of their own beloved,
the citizens resolved to place those who were indeed strangers to them,
but whom somebody loved. Among the choicest lots of that beautiful
hill, a place had been chosen for their deposit. The winding-sheet of
snow had been drawn aside, and the graves had been dug, and multitudes
assembled from the vicinity, and the result was that an immense
assemblage was gathered for the solemn services. A special train
arrived from Cleveland, bringing the officers of the Railroad, and
the friends and parishioners of Rev. Dr. Washburn and others. By noon
all the places of business were closed, and the citizens gathered at
the services or arranged themselves in the long procession. The first
church service was held in the Methodist house, as it was the largest
in the place, and at this the clergymen of the village took part. The
opening prayer was made by Rev. I. O. Fisher, of the Baptist Church,
with a few touching words in memory of P. P. Bliss. Rev. Mr. McLeary,
of the Methodist Church, read the hymn, “We are going home to-morrow.”
An appropriate selection of Scripture was read by Rev. Mr. Safford, of
the Congregational Church, after which Rev. J. C. White, of the St.
John Episcopal Church of Cleveland, delivered an eloquent discourse on
the subject of the sacredness of human life. He was followed by Rev. S.
D. Peet, who spoke of the need of a sympathy which should be unselfish
and universal, and of the need of a preparation for death. Rev. Mr.
McGiffert, of the Presbyterian Church, also made remarks upon God’s
knowledge and of the unrecognized dead. The choir sang another of the
songs of P. P. Bliss--“There is a light in the valley.” The services
were impressive, and the great congregation which had assembled,
seemed moved by deep sympathy. The closing remarks of Mr. White were
especially appropriate, being a beautiful illustration, showing that
life itself was but a great bridge, one end of which lay in life’s
beginning, and the other stretched into the great unknown. It spans a
chasm full of fire, of death and doom. There are flaws in it which were
put there six thousand years ago, and although many have gone over it
in safety, it is at any moment liable to fall with some precious soul
into the abyss. God had provided a means of escape, and happy was he
who would avail himself of it.
A second service was also held at St. Peter’s church, at which Rev. Dr.
James Moore officiated, assisted by Rev. Geo. Carter, of Cleveland.
The procession then formed, which was arranged in the following order:
Marshal Fassett and Coroner Richards; Clergy, in sleighs; Bearers, in
sleighs; Assistant Marshal; Masonic Association; Friends of deceased,
in sleighs; Assistant Marshal; St. Joseph’s Society; Ashtabula Light
Guard; Ashtabula Light Artillery; Citizens generally.
Arranged in a long line in front of the churches and along the main
street, with the different badges and insignia of office, this
procession formed one of the most impressive pageants ever witnessed in
the place. It was more than a mile long, and as it moved at the toll
of the bell and with the impressive sound of the funeral dirge from
the bands present, every one was affected with the solemnity of the
occasion.
Contrasted with the white snow which covered the landscape, this array
of mourning and sympathizing friends and citizens moved slowly to the
last resting place of the dead. As the head of the column entered
the cemetery where were gathered the sacred remains which were to be
deposited in the graves, the members of the Masonic societies divided,
and, acting as pall bearers, silently took up the coffins which had
been arranged in a line for them, and bore the precious freight to the
open graves, amid the tears of the spectators, who were touched by so
unusual a sight. “It was, indeed, a scene which appealed to the heart
with sombre power and deep sympathy.” The nineteen coffins--containing
the secrets of death which will be given up only at the
resurrection--carried between the slow-moving ranks of uncovered men;
the sad faces and intent gaze of the silent witnesses; a few mourning
women, in black, standing apart, made sacred by their sorrow--one
gray-haired man, whose wife and child had been swallowed up in the
gulf, among them; a dull, gray sky overhead; the fitful wind sweeping
through the bare branches of the trees; the shroud of snow, broken only
by those yawning graves; the sad strains of the funeral dirge, in time
with the sobbing of the women; the solemn hush which men feel always in
the presence of death. The exercises at the grave were opened by the
Rev. Mr. Moore, who read the burial service of his church. A selection
of Scripture was read by the Rev. Mr. McGiffert, after which the Masons
proceeded with their ritual, and at its close the assembled thousands,
dismissed with a benediction, proceeded to their homes or to the
evening trains which were to convey them out of the city.
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