Page:Southern Historical Society Papers volume 08.djvu/576

564 at Cold Harbor and amid the deafening thunders of Malvern's rugged sides, belching forth flame and death; at second Manassas, scene of stern endurance; at Harper's Ferry's victory; on Sharpsburg's trying field; on Fredericksburg's hill-fringed plain and hill-side drenched in gore; in Chancellorsville's dear-bought victory; at the gallant storming of Winchester's heights, and the immortal sacrifice 'mid Gettysburg's volcanoes; amid the lurid lightnings of the Wilderness, the stern shock of Spotsylvania's massive onsets, and in that contested angle, pregnant with death; at Cold Harbor's second scene of carnage; in the wearying watchings in the trenches; the horrors of the Crater; the deadly Hatcher's Run, and the sad days when valor and devotion still strove to do impossibilities, and striving fell, until the army's father stayed their unavailing sacrifice at Appomattox's scene of bitter lamentations, and all along between these, in the thousand combats where lesser numbers won not lesser glory, where the untiring cavalry drove back the mounted foe, or with unflagging courage held at bay his hosts of infantry, or where the lonely scout dared death at every hour and did deeds of heroic valor with no eye to witness—in all these scenes which tried men's souls, your valor was found ready to perform, your genius to command. Let me illustrate by a single incident the deeds by which these dead soldiers won for you immortal fame and have deserved from you this annual honor.

When the boom of Sumter's signal gun of conflict was still reverberating among our mountains, and the roll of the recruiting drum was re-echoing the call to arms, there assembled at its summons a band of your youth and gave in their names as volunteer defenders of Virginia. Near to the spot where now we stand they met. A noble band they were, elate with high hopes and patriotic purpose. They went forth with their country's name inscribed upon their banners, the Fauquier Guards, amid the mingled tears and benedictions of age and the approving smiles of beauty.

I saw them once again. It is a calm May dawn, but darkened yet by the still lingering night-mists, chill and drear. Along the confronting lines of Spotsylvania lie the armies which for six days of conflict and manœuvre have been tasting each others blood and testing each others prowess, all silent now in the hush of the morning twilight. Suddenly there bursts forth from the darkness the roar of battle. A mighty host rushes upon the protruding angle of the Confederate lines. In a moment the massed forces overwhelm its defenders, open wide the gap, and pour in hostile tide through the centre of our lines. The Army of Northern Virginia is severed in the midst, its ruin is impending. But