of our land.
ORIGIN OF MEMORIAL DAY
The observance of May 30 as Memorial Day had its official origin in an
order issued in 1868 by General John A. Logan, then commander-in-chief
of the Grand Army of the Republic. General Logan often said afterward
that the issuing of that order was the proudest act of his life.
The strewing of flowers upon graves is old in some countries. It is
said that the first decoration of graves of soldiers of the Civil
War was done on April 13, 1862, by two little girls, daughters of a
Michigan chaplain. They had been out gathering wild flowers, and,
returning, came across a rough, unmarked mound which covered some
northern boy.
One of the girls said: "Oh, let's put our flowers on this grave! He was
a soldier boy." They knelt down and made garlands of flowers on that
grave. This grave was in Virginia, not far from Mount Vernon. The next
day they interested their family and friends in a plan to decorate all
the graves, and the plan was carried out. Each year afterward, in May,
they did the same wherever they happened to be. Others saw them and
followed their example.
The later date of May 30 was chosen by General Logan so that flowers
could be had in all the northern states.
From decorating the graves of soldiers the custom has extended to the
graves of all who have relatives or friends to remember them. In time
the soldiers will be forgotten, but the custom of decorating graves
with flowers will doubtless continue for many generations to come. The
spirit which prompts it is a noble one, which should ever be cherished.
Two years after the close of the Civil War the _New York Tribune_
printed a paragraph simply stating that "the women of Columbus,
Mississippi, have shown themselves impartial in their offerings made to
the memory of the dead. They strewed flowers alike on the graves of the
Confederate and of the National soldiers."
Whereupon the North thrilled with tenderness and Francis Miles Finch
was inspired to write his moving lyric "The Blue and the Gray," which
has become the credo of the Festival.
In a famous address, Chauncey M. Depew related the occurrence with
felicity: "When the war was over in the South, where under warmer
skies and with more poetic temperaments symbols and emblems are better
understood than in the practical North, the widows, mothers, and the
children of the Confederate dead went out and strewed their graves
with flowers; at many places the women scattered them impartially also
over the unknown and unmarked resting-places of the Union soldiers. As
the news of this touching tribute flashed over the North it roused,
as nothing else could have done, national amity and love and allayed
sectional animosity and passion. Thus out of sorrows common alike to
North and South comes this beautiful custom."
The incident, however, produced no practical results until in May,
1868, Adjutant-General N. P. Chipman suggested to National Commander
John A. Logan, of the Grand Army of the Republic, that their
organization inaugurate the custom of spreading flowers on the graves
of the Union soldiers at some uniform time. General Logan immediately
issued an order naming the 30th day of May, 1868, "for the purpose of
strewing with flowers or otherwise decorating the graves of comrades
who died in defense of their country during the late rebellion,
and whose bodies now lie in almost every city, village, or hamlet
churchyard in the land.... It is the purpose of the commander-in-chief
to inaugurate this observance with the hope that it will be kept up
from year to year while a survivor of the war remains to honor the
memory of the departed."
The idea spread rapidly. Legislature after legislature enacted it into
law until the holiday has become a legal one in all states. In some of
the southern states an earlier date is usually chosen.
THE REVEILLE[F]
[F] Used by permission of, and by special arrangement with, Houghton
Mifflin Company, the authorized publishers.
Hark! I hear the tramp of thousands
And of armed men the hum;
Lo! a nation's hosts have gathered
Round the quick alarming drum--
Saying "Come,
Freeman, come!
Ere your heritage be wasted," said the quick alarming drum.
"Let me of my heart take counsel:
War is not of life the sum;
Who shall stay and reap the harvest
When the autumn days shall come?"
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 become?"
But the drum
Answered, "Come!
You must do the sum to prove it," said the Yankee answering drum.
"What if, 'mid the cannon's thunder,
Whistling shot and bursting bomb,
When my brothers fall around me,
Should my heart grow cold and numb?"
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,
Said, "My chosen people, come!"
Then the drum,
Lo! was dumb,
For the great heart of the nation, throbbing, answered,
"Lord, we come!"
_Bret Harte_
THE BLUE AND THE GRAY
By the flow of the inland river,
Whence the fleets of iron have fled,
Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver,
Asleep are the ranks of the dead:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day;
Under the one, the Blue,
Under the other, the Gray.
These in the robings of glory,
Those in the gloom of defeat,
All with the battle-blood gory,
In the dusk of eternity meet:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day;
Under the laurel, the Blue,
Under the willow, the Gray.
From the silence of sorrowful hours
The desolate mourners go,
Lovingly laden with flowers
Alike for the friend and the foe:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day;
Under the roses, the Blue,
Under the lilies, the Gray.
So with an equal splendor,
The morning sun-rays fall,
With a touch impartially tender,
On the blossoms blooming for all:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day;
Broidered with gold, the Blue,
Mellowed with gold, the Gray.
So, when the summer calleth,
On forest and field of grain,
With an equal murmur falleth
The cooling drip of the rain:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day;
Wet with the rain, the Blue,
Wet with the rain, the Gray.
Sadly, but not with upbraiding,
The generous deed was done;
In the storm of the years that are fading
No braver battle was won:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day;
Under the blossoms, the Blue,
Under the garlands, the Gray.
No more shall the war cry sever,
Or the winding rivers be red;
They banish our anger forever
When they laurel the graves of our dead!
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day;
Love and tears for the Blue,
Tears and love for the Gray.
_Francis Miles Finch_
RECESSIONAL
God of our fathers, known of old--
Lord of our far-flung battle line--
Beneath whose awful hand we hold
Dominion over palm and pine--
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget--lest we forget!
The tumult and the shouting dies,
The captains and the kings depart;
Still stands thine ancient sacrifice--
An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget--lest we forget!
Far-called, our navies melt away;
On dune and headland sinks the fire.
Lo! all our pomp of yesterday
Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget--lest we forget!
If, drunk with sight of power, we loose
Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe,
Such boasting as the Gentiles use
Or lesser breeds without the law--
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget--lest we forget!
For heathen heart that puts her trust
In reeking tube and iron shard,
All valiant dust that builds on dust,
And guarding calls not Thee to guard,
For frantic boasts and foolish word,
Thy mercy on Thy people, Lord!
Amen.
_Rudyard Kipling_
BATTLE HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword;
His truth is marching on.
Glory! glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! glory! Hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.
I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps;
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps.
His day is marching on.
He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment seat;
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet!
Our God is marching on.
In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me;
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
While God is marching on.
_Julia Ward Howe_
We have scattered our floral tributes today over the graves of the
patriotic dead. These frail mementos of affection will soon wither,
but let not the memory of these martyrs fail to inspire in us a purer,
holier life! The roll-call brings to mind their faces and their deeds.
They were faithful to the end. The weary march, the bivouac, the
battle are still remembered by the survivors. But your line, comrades,
is growing slenderer every year. One by one you will drop out of the
ranks, and other hands may ere long strew your grave with flowers as
you have done today in yonder cemetery. When mustered in the last grand
review, with all the veterans and heroes of earth, may each receive
with jubilant heart the Great Commander's admiring tribute "Well
done!" and become with Him partaker of a felicity that is enduring and
triumphant!
_E. P. Thwing_
Of all the martial virtues, the one which is perhaps most
characteristic of the truly brave is the virtue of magnanimity. That
sentiment, immortalized by Scott in his musical and martial verse,
will associate for all time the name of Scotland's king with those of
the great spirits of the past. How grand the exhibitions of the same
generous impulses that characterize this memorable battle-field! My
fellow-countrymen of the North, if I may be permitted to speak for
those whom I represent, let me assure you that in the profoundest
depths of their nature, they reciprocate that generosity with all the
manliness and sincerity of which they are capable. In token of that
sincerity they join in consecrating, for annual patriotic pilgrimage,
these historic heights, which drank such copious draughts of American
blood, poured so freely in discharge of duty, as each conceived it--a
Mecca for the North, which so grandly defended, a Mecca for the South,
which so bravely and persistently stormed it. We join you in setting
apart this land as an enduring monument of peace, brotherhood, and
perpetual union. I repeat the thought with emphasis, with singleness of
heart and of purpose, in the name of a common country, and of universal
liberty; and by the blood of our fallen brothers, we unite in the
solemn consecration of these hallowed hills, as a holy, eternal pledge
of fidelity to the life, freedom, and unity of this cherished Republic.
_John B. Gordon_
From "Gettysburg: A Mecca for the Blue and the Gray"
Our fathers ordained that in this Republic there should be no
distinctions; but human nature is stronger than laws and nothing can
prevent this people from showing honor to all who have deserved well
of the country. Every man who has borne arms with credit has earned
and is sure to receive a special measure of regard. And it is our
peculiar privilege to remember that our armies and navies, regular and
volunteer, have always been worthy of esteem ... the Grand Army of the
Republic--soldiers and citizens whom the Republic delights to honor.
_John Hay_
Let no vandalism of avarice or neglect, no ravages of time, testify to
the present or to the coming generations, that we have forgotten, as a
people, the cost of a free and undivided Republic.
_John A. Logan_
We honor our heroic and patriotic dead by being true men, as true
men by faithfully fighting the battles of our day as they fought the
battles of their day.
_David Gregg_
AFTER THE GREAT COMPANIONS!
The race has not run out.
We are still men, and worthy of our fathers.
That is what Memorial Day 1919 says to us.
Not in pride nor vain boasting but in fearful and solemn humility we
speak, for it is our dead that prompt us. They, our kin and blood, were
not afraid to die.
When the Destroyer came, the obscene Dragon, with breath of poison
gas, eyes of hell fire, and teeth of steel, they did not shrink, our
brothers, but played the man, and struck, and dying struck again, and
flung their shredded bodies into the breach, and "filled the gap up
with our English dead."
We are of such.
We put our arms around our dead, and hold them proudly up to God, and
glory before all men that this is our breed.
The lies of the Accuser are disproved. His slanders fall from us. We
are not slaves of greed, money grubbers, soft and lily-livered. We know
how to suffer and to die. We, too, can follow the gleam.
O Greeks of Marathon, room for us! Through Chateau Thierry and the wood
of Argonne we have come up to stand by your side, and dare to call you
Brothers.
You Five Hundred of Balaklava, meet these boys from Kansas and New
York, who also rode blithely into the valley of death. They are your
kind.
You men of Bunker Hill, of Gettysburg and of San Juan, place! place for
these, our neighbors' sons, our friends and playmates!
For them also the laurel, and the royal requiem! For them the Cross of
Honor, and the Divine Halo!
They are ours! Ours! Dear God, we will be worthy of them. Thus cries
the poet of America:
"Allons! After the great Companions, and to belong to them!
"Allons! through struggles and wars!
"Have the past struggles succeeded?
"What has succeeded? yourself? your nation? Nature?
"Now understand me well--it is provided in the essence of things
that from any fruition of success, no matter what, shall come forth
something to make a greater struggle necessary.
"Allons! the road is before us!"
_Dr. Frank Crane_
THE SERVICE FLAG
The service flag is not an official flag of the United States
Government. The idea was, so far as we are advised, an entirely novel
one, the credit for the conception of which appears to be due to R. L.
Queisser, of Cleveland, Ohio, who designed and patented the present
flag. It has, however, taken such firm root in popular sentiment and
has been of such beneficial influence that it is officially recognized,
and everyone who is entitled to fly it is encouraged and urged to do so.
Mr. Queisser was formerly captain of the machine gun company, 5th Ohio
Infantry (now 145th United States Infantry), from which he was retired
because of an accident. He thus states the origin of the flag:
"Shortly after April 6, 1917, when war with Germany was declared, the
thought came to me that both of my sons, who were still officers in the
guard, would again be called out, and I wondered if I could not evolve
some sign or symbol by which it might be known that they were away
in their country's service, and one which would be to their mother a
visible sign of the sacrifice her sons were making. The inspiration of
the service flag came to me in that manner."
_Official U. S. Bulletin_
THE SERVICE FLAG
A field of gleaming white,
A border ruby red,
And a blazing star
That is seen afar
As it flutters overhead.
From the window of a cot,
From the mansion on the hill,
Sends that banner fair,
Beyond compare,
Its loyal message still.
"A man beloved and dear,
O land, I've given to you.
He has gone to fight
On the side of right;
To Old Glory he'll be true!"
It floats from learning's halls,
And within the busy mart,
Where its crowded stars
Form growing bars
To rejoice the drooping heart.
Each star stands for a life,
To the nation gladly given,
For an answered prayer
To those "over there,"
Though a mother's heart be riven.
We pass with kindling eye
Beneath your colors true;
A nation's love,
A nation's hope
Are bound in the heart of you!
_Josephine M. Fabricant_
I HAVE A SON[G]
[G] Reprinted from the Saturday Evening Post, Philadelphia. Copyrighted
1917 by the Curtis Publishing Company, Philadelphia.
I have a son who goes to France
Tomorrow.
I have clasped his hand--
Most men will understand--
And wished him, smiling, lucky chance in France.
My son!
At last the house is still--
Just the dog and I in the garden--dark--
Stars and my pipe's red spark--
The house his young heart used to fill
Is still.
He said one day, "I've got to go
To France--Dad, you know how I feel!"
I knew. Like sun and steel
And morning. "Yes," I said, "I know
You'll go."
I'd waited just to hear him speak
Like that.
God, what if I had had
Another sort of lad,
Something too soft and meek and weak
To speak!
And yet!
He could not guess the blow
He'd struck.
Why, he's my only son!
And we had just begun
To be dear friends. But I dared not show
The blow.
But now--tonight--
No, no; it's right;
I never had a righter thing
To bear. And men must fling
Themselves away in the grieving sight
Of right.
A handsome boy--but I, who knew
His spirit--well, they cannot mar
The cleanness of a star
That'll shine to me, always and true,
Who knew.
I've given him.
Yes; and had I more,
I'd give them too--for there's a love
That asking, asks above
The human measure of our store--
And more.
Yes; it hurts!
Here in the dark, alone--
No one to see my wet old eyes--
I'll watch the morning rise--
And only God shall hear my groan
Alone.
I have a son who goes to France
Tomorrow.
I have clasped his hand--
Most men will understand--
And wished him, smiling, lucky chance
In France.
_Emory Pottle_
IN FLANDERS FIELDS[H]
[H] From "In Flanders Fields," by Lieutenant-Colonel John McCrae,
courtesy of G. P. Putnam's Sons, publishers.
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly,
Scarce heard amidst the guns below.
We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved; and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe!
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch. Be yours to hold it high!
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
_John McCrae_
AMERICA'S ANSWER
Rest ye in peace, ye Flanders dead.
The fight that ye so bravely led
We've taken up. And we will keep
True faith with you who lie asleep,
With each a cross to mark his bed,
And poppies blowing overhead,
Where once his own life blood ran red.
So let your rest be sweet and deep
In Flanders fields.
Fear not that ye have died for naught.
The torch ye threw to us we caught.
Ten million hands will hold it high,
And freedom's light shall never die!
We've learned the lesson that ye taught
In Flanders fields.
_R. W. Lillard_
AMERICAN SENTIMENTS
It is a fearful thing to lead this great, peaceful people into war,
into the most terrible and disastrous of all wars, civilization itself
seeming to be in the balance. But the right is more precious than
peace, and we shall fight for the things which we have always carried
nearest our hearts--for democracy, for the right of those who submit to
authority to have a voice in their own governments, for the rights and
liberties of small nations, for a universal dominion of right by such a
concert of free peoples as shall bring peace and safety to all nations
and make the world itself at last free.
To such a task we can dedicate our lives and our fortunes, everything
that we are and everything that we have, with the pride of those
who know that the day has come when America is privileged to spend
her blood and her might for the principles that gave her birth and
happiness and the peace which she has treasured. God helping her, she
can do no other.
_Woodrow Wilson_
We came into this war for ourselves. It is a war to save America, to
preserve self-respect, to justify our right to live as we have lived,
not as some one else wishes us to live. It is more precious that this
America shall live than that we Americans should live.
_Franklin K. Lane_
No nation has a right to its freedom if it is unwilling to fight for
the freedom of others, and for its own.
The cost of war is not to be measured in money. It is in the slow paid
price of the human heart--in the blood drops, one by one.
_Charles C. Gordon_
BIBLIOGRAPHY
See Bibliography at end of monograph.
FLAG DAY
June 14
THE STARS AND STRIPES
It is not a painted rag. It is a whole national history. It is the
Constitution. It is the Government. It is the free people that stand in
the Government, on the Constitution.
_Henry Ward Beecher_
FLAG DAY
HANNAH H. CHEW, PRINCIPAL CULVER SCHOOL, MILLVILLE
The great war has brought more forcibly to us a realization of the
necessity for training the youth of our land to a greater respect for,
and a fuller knowledge of our national emblem.
Wherever the flag floats, children must be taught to love it and to
respect its significance.
New Jersey long ago required that the flag be displayed on school
buildings, and the flag salute be given daily, but no statute can make
certain that the spirit of the law is emphasized.
The teachers of the children of the state bear the responsibility of
training for patriotism, and the future of democracy depends upon the
patriotic ideals nurtured in the public schools. We shall have more
patriotic observances than formerly and one of those which we shall
celebrate with more interest will be Flag Day.
The date authorized to be observed as Flag Day comes so near the close
of the school year that it may well be used as a special occasion on
which pupil and parent join in paying tribute to our national emblem.
Flag Day can be made the occasion of raising a new flag, or of taking
a collection to provide silk flags or a patriotic picture for the
classrooms, thus giving parents an opportunity to contribute to the
patriotism of the school. If a new flag is to be presented to the
school, Flag Day will be a most appropriate time to receive it, and
exercises can be conducted partly or altogether out-of-doors. On the
playground all pupils can take part in marches and drills suitable to
their grades. In order to have the best effects, some uniformity of
costume is best. Any movements uniformly done in mass are pleasing, and
teachers can adapt marching figures to their own playground with good
effect. The purpose of the teacher of the primary grades should be to
awaken love and reverence for the flag and to instill loyalty into the
minds and hearts of the children.
In the higher grades children should not only be trained to show love
and respect for the flag, but should understand their duty toward their
country. They should study the flag, its history, its significance,
its various forms and uses, the correct ways of displaying it, and the
proper manner of raising and lowering it.
The flag of our state should also be taught, together with its history.
It is a part of our school law that the flag salute shall be a part
of the daily program. It is the duty of the teacher to interpret the
meaning and the spirit of the salute to the pupils, not neglecting
the correct pronunciation of the words. The salute should never be
carelessly repeated, but should be given in a serious manner, and only
after children have been called to standing position.
In the making of a program, attention should be given to current
events. The best of the popular songs may be sung. (Be sure they are
the best.) Current literature will furnish some prose and poetry
suitable for the occasion. A real, present-day note should always be
sounded. The same program should not be used year after year, but the
material should be selected anew each time, though some repetition in
the use of standard recitations and national songs is to be expected.