The Unknown Dead: An Address Delivered in Arlington, Virginia, on May 30, 1871
THE UNKNOWN DEAD: AN ADDRESS DELIVERED
IN ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA, ON 30 MAY 1871
Washington , 30 May 1871. Other texts in Washington , 31 May 1871; New , 1 June 1871; Douglass, , 456-58.
Washington, D.C., and environs “presented a holiday look” on 30 May 1871,
the third national celebration of Memorial Day. As in years past, at Arlington
National Cemetery, where the Grand Army of the Republic conducted cere-
monies, the decorations were “of the most elaborate character and surpassed
those of any former year.” Arlington House was “festooned with evergreens”
and the grave of each soldier was “adorned with a wreath and . . . various
corp badges.” The main stand, which was large enough to “accommodate
about three hundred persons” including the president and cabinet, stood “in a
grove of oak trees” in the rear of Arlington House. A canopy of American
flags covered the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, which itself was largely
concealed by wreaths and baskets of flowers. The ceremonies began at 12:30
P.M. with a procession from Arlington House to the burial ground. There the
Reverend Jeremiah E. Rankin offered a prayer, after which the graves were
decorated as a battery of four twelve-pounders fired a salute. From the burial
ground the procession moved to the main platform. Major Timothy Lubey,
department commander, called the assembly to order and delivered the first
address, succeeded by John Tweedle, who read a poem composed for the
occasion by O. E. L. Holmes. After Stuart L. Woodford’s address concluded
the ceremonies at the main stand, the assembly proceeded to the Tomb of the
Unknown Soldier, where the Reverend Frederick W. Hinckley offered a
prayer. Though Douglass, the last speaker, delivered only brief remarks, the
described his address as a “masterful effort.” The Marine
Band and the Beethoven Octette performed the music for the occasion.
Friends and Fellow-Citizens: Tarry here for a moment. My words shall be
few and simple. The solemn rites of this hour and place call for no length-
ened speech. There is in the very air of this resting ground of the unknown
dead a silent, subtle, and an all-pervading eloquence, far more touching,
impressive, and thrilling than living lips have ever uttered. Into the meas-
ureless depths of every loyal soul it is now whispering lessons of all that is
most precious, price-less, holiest, and most enduring in human existence.
Dark and sad will be the hour to this nation when it forgets to pay
grateful homage to its greatest benefactors. The offering we bring today is
due alike to the patriot soldiers dead, and their noble comrades who still
live, for, whether living or dead—whether in time or eternity, the loyal
soldiers who periled all for country and freedom, are one and inseparable.
Those unknown heroes, whose whitened bones have been piously
gathered here, and whose green graves we now strew with sweet and
beautiful flowers, choice emblems alike of pure hearts and brave spirits,
reached in their glorious career that last and highest point of nobleness,
beyond which human power cannot go! They died for their country!
No loftier tribute can be paid to the most illustrious of all the benefac-
tors of mankind than we pay to these unrecognized soldiers when we write
above their graves this shining epitaph.
When the dark and vengeful spirit of slavery, always ambitious, prefer-
ring to rule in hell than to serve in heaven,1Douglass paraphrases a statement by Satan in John Milton, , Book 1, lines 261-63. fired the Southern heart, and
stirred all the malign elements of discord; when our great Republic, the
hope of freedom and self-government throughout the world, had reached
the point of supreme peril; where the union of these States was torn and rent
asunder at the center, and the armies of a gigantic rebellion came forth with
broad blades and bloody hands to destroy the very foundation of American
society, the unknown braves who slumber in these graves flung themselves
into the yawning chasm where cannon roared and bullets whistled, fought
and fell. They died for their country!
We are sometimes asked in the name of patriotism to forget the merits
of this fearful struggle, and to remember with equal admiration those who
struck at the nation’s life, and those who struck to save it—those who
fought for slavery and those who fought for liberty and justice.
I am no minister of malice. I would not strike the fallen. I would not
repel the repentant, but may my right hand forget its cunning, and my
tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth,2Douglass adapts Ps. 137: 5-6. if I forget the difference between
the parties to that terrible, protracted and bloody conflict.
If we ought to forget a war which has filled our land with widows and
orphans, which has made stumps of men of the very flower of our youth,
sent them on the journey of life armless, legless, maimed and mutilated;
which has piled up a debt heavier than a mountain of gold—swept un-
counted thousands of men into bloody graves—and planted agony at a
million hearthstones;3Although official records are imprecise, scholars estimate the number of military deaths during the Civil War as approximately 258,000 Confederate and 360,000 Union soldiers. The total U.S. government debt accumulated through wartime borrowing was more than $2.6 billion. , 4 vols. (New York, 1884-88), 4: 767-68; Edward E. Barthell, Jr., “Introduction,” in Livermore, , 4-9; Davis R. Dewey, , 12th ed. (New York, 1936), 299. I say if this war is to be forgotten, I ask in the name
of all things sacred what shall men remember?
The essence and significance of our devotions here to-day are not to be
found in the fact that the men whose remains fill these graves were brave in
battle. If we met simply to show our sense of the worth of bravery, we
should find enough to kindle admiration on both sides. In the raging storm
of fire and blood, in the fierce torrent of shot and shell, of sword and
bayonet, whether on horse or foot, unflinching courage marked the rebel
not less than the loyal soldier.
But we are not here to applaud manly courage only as it has been
displayed in a noble cause. We must never forget that victory to the re-
bellion meant death to the republic. We must never forget that the loyal
soldiers who rest beneath this sod flung themselves between the nation and
the nation’s destroyers. If today, we have a country not boiling in an agony
of blood like France;4After the armistice ending the Franco-Prussian War had been concluded, disputes between the newly elected, promonarchist National Assembly and prorepublican Parisian leaders provoked a revolt by the latter, who organized their own government, the Paris Commune. Two months of bitter fighting ended in the destruction of the Commune by army elements loyal to the conservative national govemment. More than twenty thousand Communards and other Parisians were killed in street fighting or by firing squad during “Bloody Week" (21-28 May 1871), when the military finally regained control of the capital. Binkley, , 293-99. if now we have a united country no longer cursed by
the hell-black system of human bondage; if the American name is no longer
a bye word and a hissing to a mocking earth;5Douglass perhaps paraphrases Mic. 6: 16. if the star spangled banner
floats only over free American citizens in every quarter of the land, and our
country has before it a long and glorious career, of justice, liberty, and
civilization, we are indebted to the unselfish devotion of the noble army
who rest in these honored graves all round us.