Excerpt from The Youth in the Rebellion: Address Before Geo; H. Ward Post 10, G. A. R.; June 3, 1883

Men do not die for pieces of bunting only. Daily our factories can turn out thousands of yards. Alternately striped with red and white, with stars clustering on the corner field of blue, that object symbolizes all that brave men cherish most. Home, wife, children, parents, country, all the words that linger longest and sweetest on the lips, are suggested in its gorgeous dyes. Under it, the floating ship becomes American territory. To its protection have fled the oppressed of all nations, and, through the results of the civil war, the last mockery of our long-vaunted liberty was swept away, and the quondam slave could look to it and live. Jealously guarded by valiant hearts, the battle-line was formed on it. To the left or right the eyes of the advancing soldiers were cast to see that they were moving steadily with their colors. If they kept pace with the flag, they did their duty, and the true soldier looked well to see that he did not leave the field before his standard. Its bearer cut down by hostile shot or shell, it has been eagerly seized, lest its folds should touch the ground, and again borne forward, and, though its guard knew that death was the lot of him who bore it, yet it wanted not a bearer. There, come up to that! Said the color-sergeant of the Massachusetts Ninth at Fredericks burg, as he placed his colors far in advance of his wavering regiment, and, filled with enthusiasm at the deed of their gallant comrade, the men rallied and conquered. When all but honor was lost the flag has been concealed on the person of its keeper, and there hidden from foeman's eyes all through the horrors of Libby and Andersonville, till a return to liberty has permitted its unfurling. To preventits capture or soiling, its custodian has wrapped it about himself, and, though weak and wounded, crawled on hands and knees to friendly lines. Looking towards it as borne steadily forward, the eyes of the dying soldier have grown bright, and the dews of death could not quench his joy at its triumphant progress. In danger, all thoughts of self were lost, in the great agony lest the colors should be dis graced. Said the brave Mulligan at Winchester, as dying he was carried from the field, Lay me down and save the flag. Defend your colors rally about them I was long the cry in battle till the tuneful Root made the words the refrain in Rally round the flag, boys, Rally once again.

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