Once the conveyance passed, the parade sweptthe Pierces in. At the back, martial music now played “MarchingAlong”.
Tillie bounced on her toes to the livelytune. She sang the last of the refrain. “For God and for country,we are marching along.”
Sam picked up the tune and joined in,“Marching along, we are marching along. Gird on the armor, and bemarching along. Lincoln’s”—he substituted the President’s name forthe original, McClellan—“our leader, he’s gallant and strong. ForGod and for country, we are marching along.”
Tillie grinned at him, surprised by his cleartenor. She’d never heard him sing before. She only sang whencertain the music would drown out her voice.
He grinned back.
After crossing Washington Street, theyentered the still incomplete, wrought-iron gates of the newNational Soldier’s Cemetery. Even unfinished, a grand design tookshape.
They laid the cemetery on a hexagonal plot ofland, in a D-shaped pattern. Each Northern state, allotted a blockof graves, lay within the semicircle. Handwritten signs on sticksindicated the location of each state.
They entered the gates. Mounds of dirt, stillsmelling of disturbed earth lay beside open pits waiting for theirrecipient, and markers indicated graves not yet dug, and would haveto wait until spring.
“Still a lot of work to do.” Maggie scannedthe area.
A new wrought-iron fence separating EvergreenCemetery from the National Soldier’s Cemetery stoodhalf-complete.
Maggie indicated a couple standing near thePennsylvania marker. “There are the Sandoes. I think I’ll go overand speak to them.” She left, wending her way through thecrowd.
“There’s President Lincoln with GovernorCurtin and Mr. Seward.” Tillie shielded her eyes from the weak sunand gazed at the platform on which the dignitaries seatedthemselves, laughing and talking with each other.
She grabbed her father’s arm and smiled up athim, eyes shining. “Mr. Lincoln tipped his hat to me when theypassed the house!”
Father squeezed her shoulder. “Good foryou.”
She scanned the program in her hand. “Atleast seventeen governors are here, as well as many senators andcongressmen.”
On the podium, Secretary Seward spoke to thePresident as he made himself comfortable.
Around the cemetery, strangers searched fortheir beloved’s gravesite. Tillie focused on one woman, whosephysical appearance reminded her of Mrs. Greenly. When the womanfound a grave, she dropped to her knees in grief, while her husbandstood by in silence. Many others turned away, devastated, when theydid not find what they sought.
“Those poor, poor mothers and wives.” Mothershook her head. “It’s enough to break one’s heart. I wonder howMrs. Greenly is faring.”
The band played “The Battle Hymn Of TheRepublic”, its up-tempo sweeping the crowd as people wept over themounds of earth.
“Come.” Father took Mother’s elbow and puthis other hand on Tillie’s back, between her shoulder blades.“Let’s look around, shall we?” He directed his family away from thesight of so many people mourning their loved ones.
The “Battle Hymn Of The Republic” ended witha flourish, and the band played a more solemn tune, “May God Savethe Union”.
The mood of the tune grabbed her, and Tilliesang along.
“May God save the Union! God grant it maystand,
The pride of our people, the boast of ourland;
Still, still ’mid the storm may our bannerfloat free,
Unrent and unriven o’er earth and o’ersea.”
The coronets and trumpets took over the sadtune. Tillie let the music fill her.
“May God save the Union! The Red, White andBlue,
Our States keep united the dreary daythrough;
Let the stars tell the tale of the gloriouspast,
And bind us in Union forever to last.”
The crowd picked up the tune, and before thethird verse, even those on the podium sang. At the final verse, thecrowd raised their voices and almost shouted the words.
“May God save the Union! Still, still may itstand
upheld by the strength of the patriothand,
to cement it our Fathers ensanguined thesod,
to keep it we kneel to a merciful God.”
The last notes drifted away on the breeze asthe crowd hushed and migrated toward the platform.
Reverend Stockton rose and began hisinvocation. He raised his hands over his head calling upon thepresence of the Lord. “Oh, God our Father,” he intoned, “For thesake of the Son, our Savior, inspire us with thy spirit andsanctify us to the right fulfillment of the duties of thisoccasion…”
Tillie stopped on a small rise of land whereshe could see between the shoulders of two tall men in front ofher. She clasped her hands together beneath her cloak and anexcited shiver ran down her body. Reverend Stockton’s deep baritonecarried over the crowd, fitting the occasion. “…Looking back to thedark days of fear and of trembling, and the rapture of relief thatcame after, we multiply our thanksgivings and confess ourobligations to renew and perfect our personal and socialconsecration to thy service and glory…”
Heads bowed in supplication. Every manpresent had removed his cap as the reverend’s voice carried overthe silent, respectful crowd. Feeling a bit like her old self,Tillie lowered her head and closed her eyes as she let ReverendStockton’s voice flow over her and fill her soul.
“…Oh, Lord, our God, bless us. Oh our Father,bless the bereaved, whether absent or present. Bless our sick andwounded soldiers and sailors. Bless all our rulers and people.Bless our army and navy. Bless the efforts to suppress thisrebellion and bless all the associations of this day, and place,and scene forever. As the trees are not dead, though their foliageis gone, so our heroes are not dead though their forms have fallen.In their proper personality they are all with thee…”
The sun found a chink in the clouds and shoneon the platform, seeming to illuminate Reverend Stockton withethereal light as if God himself listened and approved.
A murmur rippled through the crowd as thereverend finished and sat down.
The marine band played through a quick tuneas Edward Everett rose and shuffled to the podium. He took his timegetting his notes out of his coat pocket and putting his spectacleson his nose before turning to the bandleader and nodding. The musicstopped.
Tillie clapped as hard as everyone else did.She exchanged excited grins with Sam.
When ready, Mr. Everett took hold of thelapels of his coat and surveyed the crowd and grounds. A hushedsilence fell over the listeners.
Tillie’s heart pounded, and she clasped herhands together, waiting for his words to fall on her ears. Mr.Everett tipped his
