Here we placed another wreath, and moved onward to a tablet on the right (east) side of the avenue, where we read—
"A thousand battle-fields have drunk
The blood of warriors brave,
And countless homes are dark and drear,
Thro' the land they died to save."
Another wreath was placed here, and we marched to the last tablet in the north of the Cemetery, standing in the midst of a section of graves numbering thousands, and inscribed—
"Through all rebellion's horrors
Bright shines our nation's fame,
Our gallant soldiers, perishing,
Have won a deathless name."
After hanging a wreath here, we marched to the center of the Cemetery, and hung our last wreath upon the flag-staff from which the stars and stripes shall ever float above those who died in its defence.
It was no place for speech. The surroundings were too solemn. Our only other services were to unite in singing "My Native Country, Thee," (America,) and Rev. Dr. Pierson offered prayer. And so we decorated the National Cemetery at Andersonville, Georgia. It was little, very little, we did, but we could not do more, and we dared not do less. Here are the graves of 12,848 "brave boys," who died as prisoners of war in the stockades. Eight hundred and sixty-eight other soldiers have been disinterred and brought here from Macon, Columbus, Eufaula, Americus, and other places in Georgia, so that now this Cemetery numbers 13,716 graves. We could not decorate them all, and we dared not decorate those of the States we represented, or of any particular class. We dared not single out any for special honors. We felt that all were worthy of equal honor from us, and from the nation they died to save. And so we decorated the Cemetery as a whole, as best we could, and our tribute of affection was bestowed equally upon each one of all these 13,716 hallowed graves. And most earnestly did we implore the blessing of Almighty God to rest upon our whole country, and upon all the fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, widows, and orphans, whose "dead" we thus attempted to honor.
It will gratify the relatives and friends of all those buried here, to know that the nation is watching over their dead with pious care. Hundreds of men have been employed in making the improvements already mentioned, and many others I have not time to notice, and a number are still at work. They are planting trees, making and improving walks, placing sod upon the graves, and otherwise beautifying the grounds.
But I am detaining my readers too long from what I have already indicated as the third and final part of our programme.
Day after day the starry banner, the banner of peace ("Let us have Peace") is thrown to the breeze from the flag staff in front of the office of First Lieutenant A. W. Corliss, near the Andersonville depot. This is the most beautiful sight; indeed, almost the only beautiful sight that greets the vision of a lover of his country here.
We wished to give expression to the warm feelings of our own hearts, and also to make a demonstration of our loyalty and love for the flag in the presence of the unusual concourse of people assembled at the station for the business or pleasure of New Year's day.