The National tribune. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1877-1917, 1884-06-19
IN PRISON-PEN.
Frank ". Smiths Memorial Day Visit TO 4nder.
sonFille Cemetery.

To the Editor NATIONAL TRIBUNE:
The sun rose beautiful and clear The stars
and stripes waved proudly over the old stock
ade, as if TO honor the 1900 brave boys who
died In that once vile pen to preserve their
country intact. Now the grounds are redoIent
with magnOlias and every variety of rich and
lavish bloom known to that genial cline. Over
each grave is a white marble tablet and beside
each tablet a flag has been placed. Over the
spot where sleep the Unknown" dead the
flagstaff has been raised. 1t is a scene never to
be forgotten by one who is permitted to behold
it, and to one who, like myself, has seen AEder-
sonville in its day of horror, the peaceful sight
it now presents would seem like dream, did
one forget that God reigns and that, sooner or
later, the truth in all its excellence viii surely
prevail
4 ceremony never to be forgotten was per-
formed here to-day. For several days past
Superintendent ]. u. Bryant and his help were
busy putting everything In the best condition
for the decoration services. And when the
day came around even the mOeking birds,
hardly taking time to catch their breath, gave
welcome to those who came laden with flow
ers in the name of the sacred dead. At 10
o'clock look where you might. thousands of
flags could be seen, and yet thousands more were
to be planted, and for two hours longer busy
hands were at work, that not q single grave
might go unmarked.
Under the supervision of Rev. Mr.. Tremble,
of Chattanooga, pastor of the Presbyterian
church, the ladies of his church had forwarded
boxes of evergreen wreaths and flowers, and
these were placed upon the flag mound where
sleep full regiments of those whose names viii
never be known, but above whose graves o
monument should be reared. with these words
from the Seer of Patmos-See Revelations,
chap. vii, V. &c. II:
They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any
more; neither shall the Sls light on theEl, nor any
heat For the Lamb ichick IS IN the midst Of the
throne shall feed them, and shall lead them INTO
liUiRg fountains of lcGter, and God shall ripe al
tears from their eyes.
Shortly after noon the formal exercises be-
gan. Alter the opening prayer, portions of
! Psalms 90, So and 81 were read, followed by
the address of the day by your correspondent.
Having been q prisoner at BlaekshiTe, Millen,
| Florence and Andersonville it required no
stretch of the imagination upon the part OF the
! writer to picture what was here endured and
suffered. While the triumph Of Christian love
| and forgiveness was held earnestly In view,
there was no letting down the fact that 100000
of our boys died to save that for which an
/ equal number gave up their lives TO destroy.
| In recognizing that the :" Gray" fought long
and we'll it was not for a moment forgotten
that they were nevertheless wrong The theme
| from first to last was, g No North, no South no
East no NeSGJ Dut IuS UNION HfSt anu IaSsS
! one and inseparabIe."
| Following the address, Mrs. Kate 3. Sher-
woods Audersonville memorial poem was read
| by the speaker, for which purpose it was writ
| ten. After dinner a second memorial service
was held. as many came late, when each one
present was then presented with a copy of the
| poem, printed ON cream paper with a black
border. The singing of the dOxology, Praise
| God, from whom all blessings fow," closed the
exercises of the day.
| TO Superintendent Bryant and his good lady,
who for weeks have been doing all in their
power to make the visit of an ex-prisoner of
war all he could desire, the highest credit is
due. In response to my notification in THE
| NATIONAL TRIBUNE that | would send the
| little flag marking the grave of any comrale
| buried there to any friend who would send me
| the name and regiment, scores Of letters have
reached me and have been answered by for
warding the flag, and in some cases a few
spears of grass and sprays of flowers. / close
| this letter with stanza which every child born
since the war should commit to memory:
Four hundred thousand men
The brave, the good, the true
In tangled wood, in mountain glen,
On battle plain, in prison-pen,
Lie dead for me and you;
Four hundred thousand of the brave
Have made our ransomed soil their grave
For me and and you,
Good friend, for rne and you.
FRANK W. SMITH.
| ANDEGsoNyILLI, May 80, 1854.