CHAPTER VIII.
PLACES OF INTEREST IN ALEXANDRIA—BALTIMORE—A SINGULAR STORY—DEATH OF A MASSACHUSETTS SOLDIER—THE SERIOUSLY WOUNDED—ERIE—MY SISTER’S SICKNESS—HARRISBURG—YORK—REBEL WOUNDED—A PARALYTIC—WASHINGTON HOSPITALS—FREQUENT BATTLES—NEW ARRIVALS—MRS. GRAY—AFFLICTED FRIENDS—DR. TRUE.
On returning to Alexandria I found comparatively few Michigan men in the hospitals, and these mostly convalescent; therefore my work in this place entirely ceased for several weeks.
Among the few places of interest to a stranger visiting Alexandria is the little brick church where George Washington used to worship. Though the building has undergone repairs, the old-fashioned square pew formerly occupied by this good man and his family remains unchanged; the plate on the door bears this inscription: “Washington’s pew.” Another place of interest is the “Slave Pen.” Within this dingy enclosure thousands of human beings have been crowded like cattle for the market, and from thence brought forth to the auction-block. It still bears the name of him who once trafficked in flesh and blood. “Rice & Co., Dealers in Slaves,” may to this day be seen—though dimly—over the main entrance. A fresh coat of paint has been added, as if ashamed to stand out boldly in the pure light of liberty. But the place of all others of the most deep and thrilling interest in this slavery-cursed city, is the place where “the Boys in White” lie sepulchred. At the present time—November, 1869—instead of three hundred turfless graves, as at my first visit, there are more than thrice as many thousand grass-covered mounds, each with a neat, white head-board bearing the name of him who fell in freedom’s holy cause, or that saddest of all sad words, “Unknown.”
To this sacred “rest” long pilgrimages will be made through coming years by those who mourn the loved and lost, and who, “with cautious step and slow,” will wander amid this sea of graves, anxiously looking for some cherished name.
Near the entrance stands a little rustic chapel, occupied by a one-armed soldier, who has charge of the grounds—which are most beautiful, being interspersed with trees, shrubbery and flowers, while cooling fountains and pleasant arbors adorn the quiet place. Henceforth, in the spring-time of the year, willing hands will cull sweet flowers as a floral offering to our heroic dead!
“Forever be these sacred fields
Decked in immortal beauty,
Where sleep the brave who fought and fell
For freedom and for duty.