New national era. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1870-1874, 1872-11-14
AndersOnville To-Day.

The first thing that strikes the traveller a.
he approaches this memorable place is tnt
old flag SUSPENDED one hundred and eighty
feet in the air, waving gracefully to the
breeze and standing sentinel over what re
mans of thirteen thousand seven hundred
and sixteen departed faithful soldiers for tho
Union.
I have made it my business to make OK
tensive inquiries before reaching this place
and have heard condemned, in unmcasured
terms, the course pursued by Writ and his
small ring, who, they say, were not actuated
by any love for the lost cause, but by a
desire to profit from the misery of those un'
der their authority. Every soldier that came
into prison had money and many, watches
and rings, all of which found its way into
the hands of a few outside the stockade.
Principle never governed Writ. There was
a total want of moral sense. He never knew
a generous emotion; cold and heartless, he
thought only of gain and selfish qualification.
But he is dead; peace to his ashes. The
cemetery is under the immediate charge OF
John MalOney, an Irishman, who, in one
year, will have served in the army under the
stars and stripes, a quarter of a century. He
was among the faithful betrayed by Twigggs
in Texas. He loves the old flag as he loves
his life. 1t does one good to see this old
veteran suffuse with tears, as he recOunted
his hopes and fears during the severe struggle
through which we have just passed.
The cemetery is beautifully situated, just
north from the stOckadc, on gently rolling
land, embracing in the Enclosure thirty-scven
acres of ground; neat, substantial fence
surrounds it, and within this an Usage hedge
is being cultivated, that will ultimately serve
as fence, and also add much to the beauty
Of the place. Fine carriage avenues arc
being constructed, many of which are COM
pleted; trees are planted and are growing
finely on the sides of them, and in few
years the tops will meet, creating q dense
and cool shade, making a delightful drive.
Five thousand five hundred feet of surface
drains have been laid along the avenues.
The soil washes so easily here that brick drains
are necessary. There are employed here,
beside the superintendent, four colorcd Ia
borers and two mules, all of whom are kept
constantly busy. A comfortable house is
erected at the entrance gate for the superin-
tendent, where he always keeps spare room
for any chance visitor who may happen to
pass this way, which is not very often, as the
place is too secluded and remote from the
great lines of travel, and then Southern
Georgia, with its chills and fever, has no at
fractions for visitor, or even the native citi-
zen. The dead were laid in trenches side
by side, and if they had any article of cloth
ing worth wearing our own men would take
it to cover their nakedness, or keep out the
chilling blast of winter-nO coffin, no cloth
ing, nothing often (and nearly always) but
their naked frames. A ncat headboard made
of wood now marks their last resting place,
with name, age, regiment, and company.
And yet there are many marked" unknown"
and will always remain so until the great
muster-day in that eternal world above.
The first man buried here was J. Swarncr,
airy; died February 81, 1864. The last man
that died was r. Hanson, companyF, LIST Wis
consin infantry; died April %, lSG5-a period
Of fourteen months. During this time l3, ZIG
brave soldiers passed away, nearly one
thousand month. The largest number dy-
ing any one day was on the Goth day of Au-
gust, 1864, when one hundred and siXty-six
were buried. The most painful spot to visit
was the graves of those executed in the
stockade by our own men for the murders
and violence they had committed. The gall
lows is still partially standing, an additional
monument Of the accumulated miseries our
men suffered. The superintendent is making
good use of WRITES bath fulfilling it with
dirt; he is propagating flowers to ornament
the grounds.
After visiting the cemetery we went to the
stockade. It is fast falling into decay, and
in year or two will all be down, and every
thing that marked the sufferings of our SOL
diers will have passed away. The grounds
within the stockade that was once so bare of
every shrub, and even root, for I was in
formed that tho soldiers would dig for the
tiniest root to secure fuel to warm their ach-
ing limbs, is now grown up with scrub oak
and bushes, until you can hardly get through
them. The dead line, just seventeen feet
from the stockade, is SO far decayed that but
few traces of it are left. Here many a poor
victim has bitten the dust, it may be from a
chance misstep or determination to end his
misery. There are about thirty-five wells
still remaining that were dug with spoons
and cups, while rope made of blankets was
used to draw up the dirt and aftcrward the
water. They are from sixty to eighty feet
deep, and while peering into them, side en-
frances may be discovered that led some to
light, outside, and freedom. Every prisoner
here doubtless remembers tho prOvidential
spring that opened near the dead-line, on the
hillside, during violent thunderstorm one
autumn night, and continued to flow so freely
al to supply nearly the whole camp with de-
licious water. Well, this spring is running
as freely still, and at it quenched my thirst,
and also in the stream, where so many have
washed their achlng DOdlcs, L, too, stripped
OIL my clothing and took generous bath,
thankful that it was under 80 different aus
pices.
The forts, Of which there arc several, still
preserve their original appearance, and show
less of decay than anything else about here.
Yet, trees are growing in them, and soon
these, as we'll rs the space within the stock
ade, will be SO densely covered with thicket
as to be rendered impossible, and thus hid
ing everything that makes it an object for a
stranger to visit here. All the money and
labor is spent on the cemetery, and no pains
arc taken to preserve the stOckade grounds
in their original condition. The cemetery
excited but little emotion in me, for there
felt the soldier secured relief. There they
were beyond the reach of mans inhumanity
But this stockade should be preserved
throughout the coming ages of our country's
history as monument, not of the soldiers
suffering SO much, as of mans cruelty
Letter to Cincinnati Commercial.