Memorial Day was sacred a century ago. The day was considered so holy that a Bangor Daily News editorial chided “sinful Portland” for having a circus in town, while Bangor, “the best behaved city in Maine,” celebrated with “parades and decorations and music and decency.”

Bangor residents were expected to turn out and cheer, and on this particular Memorial Day in 1904 they were proud that a great military hero had accepted an invitation to help them pay their respects to the fallen. When it was announced that Gen. Nelson A. Miles would be the guest of honor, a writer for the Bangor Daily Commercial trumpeted the city’s massive inferiority complex: “The fact that no city in New England is to have so distinguished a Memorial Day orator as Bangor … is evidence enough that although we are away up in this northeastern corner of the country … we’re of some importance after all.”

Miles was the holder of a Medal of Honor for his Civil War bravery, a famed American Indian fighter and strikebreaker, and, near the end of his career, the commanding general of the U. S. Army, who had led an invasion during the Spanish-American War that came to be known as the Puerto Rican Picnic.

“His bravery and loyalty and zeal have never been questioned,” wrote a Bangor Daily News editorial writer.

But his judgment? That was a different story. For all his gifts, Miles had probably been involved in more controversies than any other military man in American history. And considering the fact he had retired the year before, perhaps his social calendar wasn’t as full as might have been expected.

He had feuded with fellow officers such as Maine’s own Gen. O. O. Howard and important officials including the secretary of war. He had offended the general public for shackling Jefferson Davis in his prison cell and for his connection to the Wounded Knee massacre. He had been accused of marrying the niece of Gen. William Tecumseh Sherman to garner influence.

Even his retirement generated controversy. President Theodore Roosevelt, who called him “merely a brave peacock,” refused to write a special letter of commendation after Miles challenged the findings of a naval board of inquiry and was reprimanded. He angrily confronted Roosevelt in his office and then later asked the President if he could go to the Philippines to take command of the military.

“This struck Roosevelt as the dumbest idea Miles had had since suggesting prior to the 1900 election that they join forces to unseat McKinley … with Miles for president and Roosevelt for vice president. At the time Roosevelt had thought Miles merely an idiot; now he deemed him ‘a perfect curse’,” according to historian H. W. Brands in his biography of Roosevelt.

It is doubtful if most Bangoreans knew or cared much about any of these disputes. Miles was a grand old man, a living link to the past, his name associated with nearly all of the great campaigns of the Civil War, which was the war Memorial Day was founded to mark.

The general arrived in Bangor on Saturday afternoon, May 28, a guest of the Hannibal Hamlin Post, G.A.R. and, in particular, of his old friend Gen. Joseph S. Smith, another Civil War hero in whose home at State and Newbury streets he would be staying.

After meeting a large number of local dignitaries at the train station, Miles, wearing a slate colored frock suit and lavender gloves, entered a carriage and headed for Chapin Park behind a double platoon of blue-coated policemen, the Bangor band, and the high school cadet battalion.

Three thousand school children awaited his words of wisdom. Miles took the rostrum to give a brief speech on democracy and patriotism. As he concluded, “And so children, you are the power of the future…,” Charles Pearl, chairman of the parks commission, jumped to his feet and shouted, “Let’s give three cheers, three genuine Bangor cheers.”

On Saturday night, Miles was entertained as the guest of the Melita Club at a supper given at the Bangor House. Invitations had been limited to the officers of the local Masonic bodies, a few distinguished military men and representatives of the press.

On Sunday, Miles attended services at St. John’s Episcopal Church with Gen. Smith. Then they walked down to the Central Church to see the memorial windows and entered the parish house where Miles addressed the Sunday school. “There is no work worth performing that is not a work of sacrifice,” he advised.

Sunday evening, the general dined with J. P. Bass, owner of the Daily Commercial, at his High Street home along with a dozen of Bass’ friends.

Official Memorial Day exercises were held on Monday.

In the morning, Miles was shown around Bangor. A brief stop was made at the Children’s Home on Ohio Street where Miles spoke to the children. At noon, he was given a breakfast at the Bangor House by Mayor Flavius O. Beal. Twenty-two attended.

In the afternoon, he went in a parade from East Market Square to Mount Hope Cemetery for ceremonies. “The crowd was the largest in Memorial Day history,” declared the newspaper.

Later, a public reception was held on the lawns at Gen. Smith’s home, where people could meet Gen. Miles and shake his hand. “Some people wanted to stop and talk with the general, but they were hustled along out of the way by the five patrolmen who were detailed for this work,” wrote the reporter.

That evening was the final grand event at City Hall. Two thousand attended. When Gen. Miles stepped on the stage, the air was white with waving handkerchiefs and the applause deafening. The program was as predictable as all the others, except there was a genuine surprise when the Appollo Quartet sang a song about Miles written especially for the occasion by “the clever pen of F. H. Clifford.”

“A gallant man is our guest; let ev’ry one rejoice!” the song began.

Miles’ speech ranged the whole realm of patriotic sentiments that are still with us on Memorial Days. He said by fighting to save the republic of America, the soldiers of the Civil War had saved every republic in the world because all were dependent upon the example set by the United States.

That evening, Miles left as he had arrived, aboard the private car of the president of the Boston & Maine Railroad. He had presided over what was perhaps Bangor’s biggest and most enthusiastic Memorial Day ever. The men who had fought in the Civil War were getting old. Many would not be marching in too many more parades. It would take another big war to put the spirit back into Memorial Day.

Miles went on to become the oldest surviving Civil War general. While attending a circus performance with his grandchildren in 1925, he dropped dead as he stood for the National Anthem, a patriot to the end.

Wayne E. Reilly has edited two books of Civil War era diaries and letters including “The Diaries of Sarah Jane and Emma Ann Foster: A Year in Maine During the Civil War.” He can be reached at wreilly@bangordailynews.net.