E .5 'AN -'3snoms| 'SOUS QUOIAVal TRIBUTE TO THE MEMORY Seeg.eant ABRAHAM B. SAVEEY, CO. I, MASSACHUSETTS SEVENTH EEGIMENT. I>lea I>ec. 16, 18G3. IjJ iMj^oj\ri'\f PROVIDENCE; :;ooKE, Jackson & Co., Prikters, Etekikg Przss Office, 16 Weteosslt St. 1864. Serjeant Abraham Bailey Saveky was bom iii Attle- boro, Mass., May 23, 1837. His parents were Doctor^Phiue as Sav ers and Sallie Bailey, both of Attleboro. ~^""""''^'^" -..-^-^■--- His youth was spent in his native town, receiving the best education which our High School could give. June, 1861, he enlisted as a private in Co. I, 7th Regiment Mass. Vols., where he discharged his duties as a loyal Christ- ian soldier, until his untimely death, Dec. 16, 1863. He died of pleurisy, after an illness of 8 days. His remains were brought to Attlebora, and buried with military honors on the 21th Dec. The funeral was attended at the Congre- gational Church by a large concourse of our citizens. We have printed and put into covers this little book, as a simple tribute to the memory of a brave and beloved Christian brother. Mav the large circle of deeply afflicted friends be comforted by our humble efforts, ^ W. W. B.^ Attleboro, JannarV, 1861. - "The beauty of Israel is slain upon the high PLACES."— 2 Sam. 1. 19. We are gatliered to-day in the discharge of a mournful duty. No more fitting words for us, could be found in all the precious Bible than David's lament at the burial of Jonathan — none more appropriate to the occasion which convenes us to- day. Spoken originally at the grave of a soldier, by the sol- dier-king of Israel, they have a singular aptness now. David, the militant man of God, was called to bury his beloved friend. This older son of Saul was a princely man, worthy of the love of such a kingly soul as the noblest son of Judah — their affection w^as mutual, brave and undying. Their souls were knit together in the enduring bonds of love. No wonder then as the messenger from the battle-field came to tell of the death of Jonatlian that the Hebrew King rent his clothes, mourned, fasted and wept. No wonder in pronouncing his eulogy he uttered words of radiance and sorrow^, at once the sweetest and the saddest that ever fell from human lips. " I am dis- tressed for thee, my brother Jonathan. Very pleasant hast thou been unto me ; tby love was wonderful — passing the love of w^oman." Oh, Jonathan, thou and thy kingly father wert " swifter than eagles, stronger than lions, lovely and pleasant in thy lives, and in death not divided." Then his grief became so great that he apostrophized nature : " Ye mountains of Gil- boa, let there be no dew, neither let their be rain upon you, nor fields of offerings — " tell it not in Gath, publish it not in the streets of Askalon, lest the Philistines rejoice ; oh ye daughters of Jerusalem tveep, for the beauty of Israel is slam upon the mountains." For thirty months our land has been full of mourning — the lament is everywhere, and oh the mul- titudes of shadowed homes and smitten hearts, bleeding and weeping for the slain beauty of our Israel. We have heard the muftied drum far away, and near too. Heart wails sounded in the distance like the dying of summer winds on the shore of the ocean. Anon the swelling tide of grief rolled in nearer and nearer, and the air grew dark, and the war blast louder and louder, till at last the billows have broken on the threshold of our homes, and we, afflicted brethren and friends^ must take up this same chorus of woe. When a peasant dies, a few wrap him in his shroud and lay him in his rural rest, but when a Christian hero dies, the town, or the nation mourns, — precious, lovino; friends, taking up the lament, tenderly and sorrowfully bear him to his burial. The death of the faithful Clmstian soldier who freely gives his life for his country is no ordinary event, and demands of those who speak at his funeral more than common words of sympathy and love. The very name of soldier has been admired in all ages. The sublimity of war, the grandeur of its operations, its thrill- ing scenes of danger, all conspire to throw around the names of daring and heroic men a halo of glory. The death of a faithful soldier at his post is one of the sublimest sights the sun ever beheld. In excavating the ruins of Herculanium, the skeleton of a Roman soldier was found in his place at the gate of the city grasping his spear in his bony fingers. He beheld the stream of volcanic ashes and fire pouring down upon the doomed city and saw his own death-warrant on its foremost wave, but unmoved^ he remained at his post, leaving his bones there as a monument of his fidelity. No prouder sarcophagus stands to-day in all the sunny land of Italy. So brethren, to die a Christian soldier at the post of duty — in the service of his God and his country — is among the highest honor of mortals. Such a man's death demands of us, who knew his virtues and loved his memory, to pronounce words of truth and of love, of radiance and instruction at his grave. I would speak first of an element of character which every faithful soldier possesses, viz : Manliness — by which I mean macjnanhnity. The true meaning of magnanimity is " great- ness of soul." It partakes more of the moral than of the intellectual. It includes courage, self-denial, and benevo- lence — also that reserved force of character which belongs to every brave and virtuous soul. About this manliness there is a charm and a power never seen in the selfish soul who has no spirit of magnanimity, no true largeness of heart, such as beats in unison with the throbbings of our common humanity. Our estimate of the man himself is far above all external rela- tions, all titles and all the surroundings of life. Personal worth is above official station, and lends it honor. Character is above all conditions of life. The living glory of the iinier man is that which sheds lustre npon rank and'station ; with- out which all the relations of life, all the positions of influence, numerous and influential, are but as the hollow pageant of an hour. There is much of empty honor in this world — clothed sometimes with imperial power, it may be with more than regal splendor, but empty as the wind. " Princes are often made of the poorest stuff*, the very chaff' of mankind. There have been heroes too, fame-smitten for the hour, in whose death the world finds no calamity," wdiile many a royal soul has passed from the living unheard of — gone up from "^Ameri- can battle fields to join the ranks of the ransomed above. Such a death, no matter how humble the hero, makes the ivorld a mourner — because the cause for which he dies is the cause of humanity — because the mmi is above the office. Brethren, it is personaJ worth that crowns life and death with imperial honor. It is the divine commission, and sceptred sway of royalty in the soul, that lifts one into grandeur of life, above all ephemeral significance, and that embalms the Christian hero's death in unfeigned sorrow, and enshrines his memory in the golden casket of the heart. The glory of Christian manhood, — the lustre of virtue radiates all life's hem- isphere. ^ This is what makes his life's sunset — the night and the anguish of the world — and makes so sublimely instructive the solemn emphasis of death. AVlien a good young man dies, humanity is poorer. When an heroic ^oul passes away it is fitting the living should pause in solemn recognition of it, and out of their reverence and affection carve'immortal shrines for his memory. I repeat the sentiment — we look for the true soldier '^ first in the man.'' The greater contains the less. What is it that wins love and makes the world take its noblest sons to its heart' and cherish them fondly ? Majiliness — true Christ- ian manliness. It is this, and not fame nor rank that awakens lasting admiration. Emperors have gone down to the grave from bights of power, blazing in gold and purple, without a mourner ; but when a max dies, humaniiy mourns. Intelli- gence, magnanimi.ty, generosity, self-forgetfulness in the in- terests of others, an heroic devotion to the welflire of men and the glory of God, e^xemption from all meanness, all pre- tence and affectation — these are the things that grasp the heart of the world and live in the o-rateful remembrances of men wlien nil ijageant is dead. It is because of tlie death of our ])recious friend who embodied these manly elements so beautifully, that there is a sudden veiling of a brightness we shall see no more, and so there 's such a depth of tenderness resting upon our sorrow. I come, my^bearers, to bring you a cluster of rose-buds for your cypr/s wreath — to speak to you, tenderly, of one with whom you are all familiar, from your childhood. I can tell you only what you so well knew. Noble by nature, nobler by education, we can all say with his commanding officer, " I bear eager testimony not only to the efficiency of the soldier, but to the genuineness of the 7nan.^^ Born in your village, trained in your schools, the playmate and shopmate of many of you, your friend and associate in all the pastimes and pursuits of our virtuous youth, a member of the same High School, Reading Circle, Choir, Church and Sabbath School with so many of my youthful flock. Slii^ht in form, frail in health, impulsive in spirit, of an active, inquiring, cultivated mind, attaining a higher intel- lectual position than many young men of his age, with a high sense of honor, modest and unassuming, never appreciating his own powers, diffident and distrustful of himself, he had an unaffected modesty which in these days is so rare a jewel, therefore so precious — a real diamond of character. Always truthful, conscientious, generous in disposition, kind of heart, ca])able of noble purpose and lofty plans. Such a man was Abraham Savery. The first sound of an assault on govern- ment developed the manly and heroic nature wliicli dwelt in the soul of the magnanimous boy. He gave himself to his country at once, witli the same self-denying spirit that had characterized him evermore. I am reminded that he was an affectionate and dutiful son. The death of his father, the "beloved physican " of Attle- boro, ten years since, devolved upon Abraham, for the most part, the support of his remaining parent. His kindness and love for this widowed mother was remarkable. He Avas un- wearied and dilhgent in his devotion to that affiicted parent, doing so much to smooth and to brighten her rugged and somber way. Patriotism was a ruling principle in his soul. He went to the war from noble motives. He writes a friend : " Patri- otism must be at a low ebb in A. to need bounty money to lead oar boys to enlist." And again these stirring senti- ments: '' The price of a man's life set down at fSOO. Gold is a contemjJtible thine/ to give men, who love life as well as we do, to face the cannon's mouth. No paltry pay of pelf can take the place of patriotism in the defence of one's own comitry." Noble utterances, worthy the epitaph of the noblest Spartan that i)erished at Thermopyle, or of American veterans on the battlefields of Virginia. Our beloved friend, who now lies before us cold in deaths would say, if he could speak : " Tf you want good soldiers, inspire them with the principles of Christian patriotism, gird them and flank them with the holy pledges of the heart." Such soldiers, brethren, when we find them, we should honor them, living, and at death, not only eulogize their virtues, but embalm their mem- ories in the holiest shrines of the human soul. Some eleven months hq-o he was home on a furlouo;h, recoverino; from a severe illness — the days flew swiftly, and before his strength was good again his furlough expired, loving ones gladly sought to detain him, but the impulse of duty bade him return — his brave comrades were in the field, wdiy should he linger ? The romance of war Avas gone, he had been in several battles, and knew too well their stern, sad fate. His bosom friend fell at Fredericksburgh.* He knew he was going back to danger, perhaps to death. Hundreds not so ill as he had sought and obtained a discharge. He did not hesitate to return, but went cheerfally and promptly. The sense of duty — the impulse of patriotism — the voice of his country urged him on. I know patriotism is 7iot religion ; although, Christianity produces the loftiest, purest patriotism, and when tliis is hallowed by virtue and sanctified by God's religion, it is sublime. Such, we have the best reason to know was the character of our beloved friend. His letters from the army were remarkable for breadth of views — depth of thought — vividness of description — and for purity of affection, as hundreds of those precious missives received by loving friends and treasured by them, will testify. (See extracts from letters.) We have spoken of Sergt. Savery as the Christian soldier. As we said of his manliness so we may say of his piety — he w^as both a man and a Christian before he was a soldier — born of pious parents — consecrated to God in infancy, before this altar — nurtured in a Christian family — receiving the early religious culture of that family — *Corporal Keith, of Co. I, from Bridg«water, Mass. and of tlie Sabbatli School in this cluirch, the snbjcct of early religious impressions, and the object of prayer. In youth he became interested in the matter of personal salvation, and about the age of 18, in company Avith more than twenty friends and youthful companions, made a public profession of faith in Christ. That he adorned that profession by a humble, consistent, prayerful walk and conversation you will bear me record. AYe have before noted his natural modesty — this prevented his being prominent in any public duties ; but he was ever in his place at Churcb — in the Sabbath School and prayer meeting — a still, devout and sincere worshipper. He loved the courts of our God, oh how dearly, and sought them how diligently. He loved the house of God, the ivord of God and i\\Q friends of God. Religion in him was not emotion, but a life, a i^rinciple, "having the root of the matter in it." He seemed governed in all his plans of life and rules of conduct by a high regard for the glory of God, and the weal of man ; hence the sacrifices he w^as willing to make and did make for Christ's Church and the country he loved. How much has a mother, who for years has been dependent on his filial love, to console her in her lonely and shadowed life in the memory of such a son, and those afflicted brothers and sisters far away. What a crowd of mourners I behold. A church in mourn- ing — a congregation in mourning — a whole community in mourning ; our homes, our hearts, our households in sorrow, because we have lost a friend and a brother ; but wdiat we have lost heaven has gained, and oh what a treasure ; a true, pure, brave, young faithful heart, ransomed by the blood of Jesus. How much would we give to buy that dear life back again, but we cannot — we cannot bribe the relentless death angel, we cannot recall the past — we cannot reverse the purposes of God. Yet, his unstained memory ai^d untarnished life is a thousand times more precious than his actual presence could be without them. Still we may weep for the earh/ dead, our Saviour set us the example. Jesus, the world's Redeemer, wept once at a burial — it w^as at the grave of a young man. So of our precious dead. Slain upon the threshold of a noble manhood, growing in strength and in beauty of char- acter. His genial, generous, affectionate nature drew around him tried and warm friends — true hearted and sincere. The pride of his Puritan blood had no arrogance but a manly independence allied to Christian modesty, which qualities in- sured him, if not a brilliant, an honorable career. Though he bore up bravely amid hardship and defeat, yet his sensitive spirit felt keenly the want of success in many of the army movements. Still he was not discouraged, as his letters show. He saj^s : " This croaking, grumbling and fault-finding of traitors at home has lost us many a splendid victory;" but ''after all, God reigns and He does not always give the just cause a speedy triumph." Reverses, instead of disheartening a manly soul, only kindle an intenser indignation and develop a more determined spirit of resistance to wrong. All this suf- fering of our noble boys — ^-all this hunger, cold and heat — fa- tigue — long and weary marches — all this carnage and death has some compensations. There is the proud thought that by all this suffering and sacrifice, they have helped to win the battle for the free, and to give a noble country the resurrec- tion of a consecrated and better life. Let us then, through eyes dimmed with tears, look up and see the radiance of a holier light streaming down over the crystal walls. Let us thank God that he gave to one whom we so dearly loved, so noble a work to do on earth, and that he enabled him to do it so faithfully and so well ; that he died in the way of duty in the defense of right ; that he left behind him so pure a life — so stainless a name — so sweet and precious a memory. That having fulfilled his earthly mission, and yielded up his young and beautiful life upon the sacred altar of freedom, he has gone to join the noble army of Christian martyrs which sur- round the Throne with songs of victory, and so to share the triumphs of his Redeemer and to dwell in the presence of His glory and His love forever. We thank God for the record of such lives. It is one of the sad, but consoling lessons of our day. The hallowed memories of our soldier-dead running back from pews in this house of prayer to graves in yonder cemetery. Oh, what precious legacies to these shrouded hearts and to Christ's Church. Their spirit shall never die. It shall outlive the ruins of empires, and of eras, and passing through the web of time, a shuttle in the hands of the Almighty, shall weave the bright colors of self-denial, loyalty to God and liberty, into the mighty fabric of human souls, which shall be unrolled at the judgment and then hung up as the golden tapestry of heaven. The Christian hero dying for his country is a matchless mar- 8 tyr. You talk about the ^ilovy of the statesman's death, and a conquerer's deatli — whose dvincr bed is made of the broken weapons of a bannered host. History tells " of the great Caisar, who in dying, first gazed on the marble brow of Pompey, and then arranged his robes to lie wdth becoming dignity in death." It tells us of Nelson before his last battle, saying, " now for a peerage or Westminster Abbey ;" but in none of these is there an heroic element so pure, so unselfish as is developed on American battle fields. Oh, brethren, "to die a Christian Soldier with your eye fixed on the great Cap- tain of your salvation. Such a death is not only suBLirsiE but glorious. Mere earthly fame grows dim, dwindles and dark- ens into night beside such triumphs. How precious the leg- acy and lessons of such lives. Who can compute their value and their influence to ours and the coming ages ? When the history of this awful rebellion shall be written by some unborn Bancroft, Irving, or Everett, the brightest pages in the annals of our nation's memory shall be filled with the names of Christian heroes — the Liberty-loving soldiers icho have died to save their country. Young Men — I have portray sd before you the life of a beloved youth — your friend and mine. I hold him up for your emulation. Let the light of his good example shine upon yon and make your life bright, pure and happy. His last battle has been fought ; his last march made ; his last victory won ; no drum beat wnll ever rouse him from his slumbers — he has ffone to that o-enial clime where war is unknown — wdiere the peace of God fills the soul. Some of you, with him, w^ere members of the noble x\rmy of the Union. Others of you I hope will be. A grateful countr^^ will remember you w^hen peace shall again lift her white banner over the proud dome of our Capitol, and the flag you love shall again wave triumphant over a country united and free, then it will be your pride and glory, and the rich inheritance of your chil- dren, that you gave yourselves to that country in her hour of need. Oh, be loyal also to your God; give yourselves /?rs^ to Christ. There is a battle greater than any earthly one, to be fought, there is a fight of faith Avithin your own souls, there is a victory to be won here, and a crown of righteousness un- fading and eternal in the heavens. Jesus, the great Captain of your salvation calls you. I exhort you as his minister ^' to prepare to yneet your G-od^ From that soldier's coffin there rises an appeal far more eloquent than human voice can make. It sounds out the same notes, "prepare to meet thy Gody That pale face — those mute lips appeal to all your manhood — to all your patriotism — to all jour immortality^ to prepare to meet death as your comrade has done. Then can you follow where this young hero so nobly led — to the battle field — to victory and to the grave of the Christian soldier whose sold is marching on to rest in the bosom of his God. EXTEACTS FEOM THE LETTERS OF SERG'T SAVEEY. la answer to a -letter containing intelligence of the death of as^early loved cousin, who died in the service of his country he writes : " I kno-,v my own sorrow when loved ones are taken away, and can readil}' sympathize with you. Feiv, very few Northern homes will he left without grief for loved ones, whom this war has sacrificed. Our national punishment is indeed great. The onl^' way in which we can discern light amid this darkness, is by looking with fiiith upon the promises of the Gospel. Never was there a time when perfect trust in the Almighty was more needful, and if we will but exercise that trust, then will this day of trial be a furnace, out of whicli we shall come purified, and better fitted to enjoy future blessings." Sept. 13, 1861. Speaking of his love of home he says : " I was so very fortunate as to be possessed of parents who never clashed in sentiment, and. 1 can say nothing more proudly than that I had as good a home and parents as ever mortal was blessed with. Never, since I can remember was a ivord spoken harshly by one to the other, and though my misdemeanor sometimes called for such words tipon me, (and when required they were sure to come,) yet I now can see the need there was of them, and thank God for the training of faithful Christian parents. My own home experience was so delightful that I can hardly have sufficient charity for the heads of some families I have since seen, and I have ceased to wonder, as I used to do, that some children never love to stay at home, and prefer the bar-room or saloon, if boys, and the rough life of a sailor to obedience to parents. My Mother ! Gentlest, dearest name. I canH describe the living being ; you must hear her voice, low and clear, so full of sweetness to me, must see her countenance light up with smiles of love ; you must see her in pain, even, and in sorrow, must Icnow of her deeds of love for me, and all that I have seen '