PARK AND CEMETERY. 
i8d 
Subsequently a son brought suit to 
recover on the ground that the es- 
tate had been illegally sold. After 
long litigation he established his 
claim, but reconveyed his rights to 
the United States for $150,000. 
Overlooking, as it does, the Poto- 
mac and the capital, a more beautiful 
spot could scarcely be imagined. Mag- 
nificent old oaks shade its glades and 
knolls, and art has perfected what 
nature left undone. 
The cemetery contains the tombs 
of Logan, Sheridan, Lawton, and oth- 
er noted generals, but the most fa- 
mous monument is that to 2,111 un- 
known dead, gathered from the fields 
of Bull Run and the route to the 
Rappahannock. As the inscription 
states, “their remains could not be 
identified, but their names and deaths 
are recorded in the archives of their 
country, and its grateful citizens hon- 
or them as of their noble army of 
martyrs.” 
It it only when one stands before 
this monument and looks about at 
the thousands of little headstones 
gleaming white against the green- 
sward that he realizes to the full the 
price that some men have paid for 
their country. 
On one side of the cemetery as you 
enter through the upper gate is the 
officers’ section; on the other the 
section for the privates. To the 
right, where the officers lie buried, 
the monuments are costly and pre- 
tentious. There are monoliths tower- 
ing high, ponderous cubes and cross- 
es of granite, beautified by the hand 
of the sculptor, and at their foot of- 
ten you shall see the pathetic mound 
half buried beneath a mass of cling- 
ing ivy. There are flowers here al- 
ways, brought by loving hands, and 
here and there about the silent field 
a drooping flag, its staff stuck in the 
turf, shows that some patriotic son 
or daughter remembers the deeds of 
valor. 
And across the way — more elo- 
quently pathetic still — is the privates’ 
section. For here lies an army of 
private soldiers. Only a little way the 
solemn stone cubes raise their heads 
above the velvet turf. As in life 
they formed according to military 
regulations, so do they now in death. 
The white stones, each bearing the 
name of the soldier who sleeps be- 
neath, his rank, and the State from 
which he came, are set in orderly 
rows, uniform in distance each from 
the other, arrayed in order and mar- 
shaled like battalions. 
About the cemetery there are tab- 
lets set in the grass on which are 
inscribed verses from Col. Theodore 
O’Hara’s “The Bivouac of the Dead.” 
There is no other place where the 
thinking man may so enjoy the luxury 
of contemplation. In all the world 
it would be hard to find a more beau- 
tiful spot. Thick with gigantic forest 
trees and evergreen pines, set off 
with beautiful flowers, the land is roll- 
ing and uneven, so that each winding 
turn brings one to new delights. It 
slopes up from the banks of the Po- 
tomac to where the old mansion of 
Robert E. Lee still stands, and from 
thence one can see, far off, the faint- 
blue ridge of distant hills, the silver 
river there below with sluggish boats 
floating idly to the sea, the mystic 
shadows of the farther shore. Behind, 
amid the trees through which the 
odorous wind sighs now so gently, 
the lawns and meadow-ridges hang 
rich in flowers, though fortunately 
and wisely the landscape gardner has 
left nature alone as much as possi- 
ble. Here and there the shrubbery 
is wild and tangled, though mostly 
the turf is cleaned and well-kept and 
trim, and art has aided nature, as in 
the beautiful Druidical amphitheater 
and rostrum, where, on Decoration 
Day, thousands gather beneath the 
green vines to hear spoken tributes to 
the dead. 
One of the most interesting national 
cemeteries is that on Custer’s battle- 
field in Montana. The story of how 
the dashing, yellow-haired young ma- 
jor-general and every man of five 
companies of the Seventh cavalry 
lost their lives in battle with the 
Sioux, June 25, 1876, is known to 
everyone. The 266 dead, including 
those who fell under Reno and Ben- 
teen, were buried where they fell, the 
bodies in most instances being found 
naked and shockingly mutilated. Sub- 
sequently the bodies were taken up 
and reburied in a hollow square to 
the east of the present monument. 
Near by are also ’ouried the men who 
fell at the Fort Kearney massacre in 
1866 and those killed by the Sioux 
at old Fort Smith a year or tw;o later. 
Several soldiers who died in the 
Philippines and deceased veterans of 
the Civil war have likewise found a 
last resting place there, so that the 
interments in the cemetery now to- 
tal upward of 1,200. 
The smallest national cemetery is 
that at Ball’s Bluff, Va. It is on the 
site of the battlefield of that name, 
fought in 1861. It is only fifty feet 
square, and is situated on a large 
bluff overlooking the upper Potomac. 
It contains the graves of one known 
and twenty-four unknown soldiers. 
The only national cemetery outside 
the limits of the United States is 
that in the City of Mexico. It was 
established in 1851, three years after 
the close of the Mexican war, and 
contains the remains of 570 known 
and 750 unknown dead — men, who 
lost their lives in carrying the Stars 
(Continued on page XII) 
LEE MANSION, ARLINGTON NATIONAL CEMETERY, ARLINGTON, VA. 
