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A
mile and a quarter southeast from the town is the National Cemetery of
Chattanooga. An area of seventy-fire acres has there been set apart by the
military authorities for the burial of the soldiers who died in hospitals or
fell on battle fields in that region renowned for sanguinary conflicts. It
occupies a hill which seems to have been shaped by Providence for this purpose: its general
form is circular, and it rises with undulations, showing a beautiful variety of
curves and slopes, to a superb summit, which swells like a green dome over all.
General
Thomas, commanding the Division of the Tennessee,
was nominally the director of the cemetery works. But he appears to have left
all in the hands of Mr. Van Horne, chaplain of the post, who, in addition to
his other duties, assumed the responsible task of laying out the grounds and
supervising the interments. His plan has certainly the merit of originality,
and will prove, in the end, I have no doubt, as beautiful as it is unique.
Copying
nothing from the designs of other cemeteries, he has taken Nature for his
guide. The outline of each separate section is determined by its location.
Here, for example, is a shield, — the rise of the ground and the natural lines
of depression suggesting that form. In the centre of each section is a
monument; immediately surrounding which are the graves of officers, in
positions according to their numbers and rank; while around the latter are
grouped the graves of private soldiers, in lines adapted to the general shape
of the section. The paths and avenues follow the hollows and curves which
sweep from the base in every direction towards the summit. This is surrounded by a single circular avenue;
and ii to be crowned, according to the chaplain's plan, with a grand central
monument, and historic temple overlooking the whole.
The
place will abound in groups of trees, verdant lawns and slopes, magnificent
vistas, and concealed views designed to surprise the visitor at every step.
Outcropping ledges and bold, romantic rocks afford a delightful contrast to the
green of the trees and grass, and to the smoothness of the slopes.
Beside
the avenue which girds the base of the hill is a cave with galleries and
chambers sculptured in a variety of forms by the action of water on the
limestone rock. The chaplain, who accompanied me on my visit to the cemetery,
sent for a guide and a light, and we explored this natural grotto a hundred
feet or more, until we came to passages too narrow to admit us into the unknown
chambers beyond. Besides the entrance from the avenue, there is an opening
which affords a glimpse of the blue sky by day or of the stars by night,
through the roof of the cave.
The
hill rises from the Valley midway between Lookout
Mountain and Missionary
Ridge, commanding a view of that entire historic region. The Tennessee is visible,
distant a mile or more. The chaplain told me that when the river was very high,
water came in and filled the galleries of the cave; thus showing that they were
of great extent, and mysteriously connected with the stream.
The
work on the cemetery had thus far been performed by details from the army. The
post-fund, which amounted to twenty-seven thousand dollars, had defrayed all
expenses. But this cannot continue. The time is coming when the people of the
States will be called upon to pay the debt they owe to the heroic dead, in
liberal contributions towards the completion and adornment of this spot, where
probably will be gathered together a more numerous host of the slain than in
any other national cemetery.
From Chickamauga and Mission Ridge, from
Lookout Mountain and Wahatchie, from the scenes of many lesser fights, from the
hospitals, and possibly also from the fields of Sherman’s Atlanta campaign, thousands
upon thousands they will come, a silent host, to this goal of future
pilgrimages, this “Mecca of American memories."
Nine
thousand had already been interred there at the time of my visit. No attempt
was made to bury the dead by States. "I am tired of State Rights,"
said General Thomas;" let's have a national
cemetery." Out of six thousand interred before the removal of the
dead of Chickamauga
was begun, only four hundred were unknown. A military record is kept, in which
are inscribed all ascertain able facts respecting each, — his name, rank,
company, arm of service, native State, age; time, place, and cause of death;
address of nearest friends, and so forth ; accompanied by a full regimental
index, and an individual index; so that persons in search of the graves of
friends can learn by a brief examination all that is known about them, and be
guided at once to the section and number where their remains are deposited.
The
chaplain told me that many who had come with a determination to remove the
bodies of their dead, immediately on seeing the cemetery had changed that
determination, convinced that they could have no more fitting resting-place.
The
dead of Chickamauga were being interred while I was there; and the chaplain
kindly offered to accompany me to the battle-field, where a regiment of colored
soldiers were at work exhuming the buried, and gathering together the remains
of the unburied dead.
A Picture of the Desolated States
and the work of Restoration 1865-1868 - 1868
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