it was in may of this year 1866 that we inaugurated, in petersburg, the custom, now universal, of decorating the graves of those who fell in the civil war. our intention was simply to lay a token of our gratitude and affection upon the graves of the brave citizens who fell june 9, 1864, in defence of petersburg, and upon the graves of her sons who perished in the assault upon fort steadman. these were buried in the cemetery of the old blandford church, then a roofless, ivy-clad ruin. the church is one of the historic structures of the south, and it has a literature of its own among virginians. one of the most striking of the poems concerning it was the following, found written with a pencil on the inner walls of the church many years ago. the author is unknown, but tyrone power, the irish comedian, is generally supposed to have been the writer:—
"thou art crumbling to the dust, old pile!
thou art hastening to thy fall;
and 'round thee in thy loneliness
clings the ivy to the wall;
the worshippers are scattered now,
who knelt before thy shrine, 405
and silence reigns where anthems rose
in days of 'auld lang syne.'
"and sadly sighs the wandering wind
where oft in years gone by
prayer rose from many hearts to him,
the highest of the high.
the tread of many a noiseless foot
that sought thy aisles is o'er,
and many a weary heart that beat
is stilled forever more.
"how doth ambition's hope take wing!
how droops the spirit now!
we hear the distant city's din;
the dead are mute below.
the sun that shone upon their path
now gilds their lowly graves,
the zephyr which once fanned their brows
the grass above them waves.
"oh! could we call the many back
who've gathered here in vain,—
who've careless roved where we do now,
who'll never meet again;
how would our very hearts be stirred
to meet the earnest gaze
of the lovely and the beautiful—
the lights of other days!"
when a sentiment and observance sweeps the country we naturally wonder who began it. where was the spark kindled that fired the train? who was the "founder"—that is, the originator, the one from whom the movement derived its beginning?
memorial associations were organized in several places soon after the close of the war, but the first 406 observance of a "decoration day" was an inspiration of mrs. judge joynes of petersburg, virginia. she called the women of petersburg together on the 9th of may, 1866, and organized them into a memorial association for the express purpose of decorating the graves of the men who had fallen in the late conflict between the north and the south. she was made president of the association, and mrs. samuel b. paul, vice-president. the following preamble was offered by mrs. joynes and accepted by the meeting:—
"whereas, a mysterious providence has given us a duty which would, under other results, have been a nation's pride to perform, we, the ladies of petersburg, now assume our share of the melancholy yet grateful task of doing honor to the remains of her noble sons. all along our lines, on distant hilltops, in valleys, in forests, lie the neglected graves of the slain of our people. absent from our homes and our altars, they sleep the last sleep of the noble and the brave. their bodies, bone of our bone, flesh of our flesh, arise, a spectre band before us, demanding christian and honorable sepulture. untrue would we be to the instincts of nature, as well as our birthright of glory, untrue to the land of washington and of lee, did we not give every energy to this work. now that the storms of war have been hushed for us, and the paralysis of our crushed hopes is yielding to a healthy activity and responsibility, we come together to devise means to perpetuate our gratitude and admiration for those who died for us. we, therefore, form ourselves 407 into a society for the systematic furtherance of this object, inviting the co?peration of all that sympathize with us, so that here, where the last blow was struck, an enduring monument may arise as a tribute to true manhood and patriotic devotion.
"we, therefore, propose," etc. in the resolutions that followed, june 9 was named as the day for "perpetual remembrance." just what was to be done on that day was not made public. the federal army was still with us, and some apprehension was felt that we might be hindered in our wishes. nothing was yet quite settled or clearly understood in relation to our future. we were under military rule, and realized the necessity of discreet behavior. mrs. joynes quietly circulated notes among us, requesting us to meet at blandford church on the afternoon of june 9, "to be sure of enough voices for an anthem." it was whispered that "many flowers were desired." when the day came, everybody rose early, to cut these flowers with the dew on them—otherwise they would perish in the hot summer day.
over the trellised porch of the house i had occupied during the siege of petersburg there was still the fine specimen of the microphylla rose—a grand climbing rose to whose bounty my little girls had been indebted, during the blockade, for the only adornment of the home-plaited hats. this rose had, as we have seen, already yielded its tribute to heroism. its globes of snow had lain upon the breast of more than one dead soldier. to-day it 408 gave up all its wealth for the hands of my little children and my own. the day was perfect. one could but recall that other perfect day when so many of the old men and boys had fallen in the defence of the town. the flowering trees,—chestnut, locust, and peerless magnolia grandiflora were again in blossom. the city again lay under a cloud of white. in all the town, lately one of the wealthiest of the south, only two or three carriages could be found. these led the way, filled with flowers. young girls followed, clad in white and bearing garlands of flowers—a long double line. then came every child from every school. all bore baskets and clusters of flowers. some had covered large pasteboard letters with white roses, combining them afterward to form the tender words of "brother" or "father." the women and children were followed by a band playing beethoven's immortal march upon the death of a hero. military companies and a great crowd of reverent strangers made up the rear.
the day at one o'clock, when the procession started, was intensely hot, and the distance to be traversed along a dusty road more than a mile. upon reaching the cemetery of the old blandford church a prayer was offered, followed by orations, at two graves—one filled with the bones of men who had perished at fort steadman, the other the grave of colonel scott, who fell at richmond during the seven days' fight. then the women and children hastened to cover with flowers the great number of unmarked graves. many little white flags 409 had been prepared for these graves. on these the words "somebody's darling" was printed. i remember miss joynes's delicate beauty as she filled her arms with these little banners and ran from one lonely hillock to another to plant them. we then gathered together in the historic church, roofless then, and in a most picturesque phase of decay. but the anthem written by mrs. morrison was deemed too passionate for the hour. we wished to do nothing that might be construed amiss. the federal soldiers were all around us, looking on respectfully; so we raised our eyes to heaven through the old ivy-clad walls and sang to the good old church tune:—
"guide us, o thou great jehovah,
pilgrims in a stricken land."
when all was over the sorrowful women and children returned mournfully to their homes. the shops of the city were closed, the streets hushed. thus passed the first organized observance of decoration day. it has been observed in a similar manner on some selected day in every state in the union, but in petersburg it will ever be on the 9th of june, her one saddest, greatest day of the war, that her daughters will cover with flowers the graves of her martyred sons.
i think well of my country that it should recognize them as martyrs. we do well to pause one summer day in a year to exalt their courage, to bewail their fate, to cover their humble hillocks with flowers. they died, not to protect our land from 410 the profane foot of the foreign invader, nor yet to win the holy sepulchre from the infidel, nor yet to conquer a savage wilderness for the great incoming flood of our race. they died because their country could devise, in its wisdom, no better means of settling a family quarrel than by slaying her sons with the sword.
may this country never forget to observe memorial day! even now there is scarcely a hamlet in the united states that does not display a tiny flag or bit of bunting on decoration day. some years ago i drove through a wild mountain country in west virginia. deep down in a narrow gorge—one of those strange fissures where a small stream has cut a mountain in twain—i discovered a wretched hut. fastened to a pole at the door was a fluttering bit of red flannel. the half-naked savages who lived in this hut scrambled up the precipice to beg. i asked the meaning of the red rag, and received the surprised answer, "decoration day!" these untamed, untamable people respected the day.
old blandford church, petersburg, va.
the old blandford church is still an object of interest to all who visit the historic sites around petersburg. when the solemn chant of the first memorial, or decoration day, service echoed through its mouldering walls, they, with a remnant of the roof, were embedded in the emerald ivy brought from kenilworth, and were literally vocal with hundreds of tuneful birds. it has been found necessary to repair the roof, but enough ivy remains to cover it in a few years. meanwhile the old church sits 411 desolate among the graves of her distinguished and honored sons—indeed a mater dolorosa:—
"childless and crownless
in her voiceless woe
an empty urn within her withered hands,
whose holy dust was scattered long ago."
and there she watches "until the day dawn and the shadows flee away."
