at Jena the wheat grows more
luxuriantly, and the corn shoots its stalks further toward the sky
than before the great conflicts that rendered those fields famous. The
broad acres of Gettysburg and Antietam will in future years yield the
farmer a richer return than he has hithto received.

"Passing out of Gettysburg by the Baltimore turnpike, we come in a
few steps to the entrance of the cemetery. Little of the inclosure
remains, save the gateway, from which the gates have been torn. The
neat wooden fence, first thrown down to facilitate the movement of our
artillery, was used for fuel, as the soldiers made their camp on the
spot. A few scattered palings are all that remain. The cemetery was
such as we usually find near thrifty towns like Gettysburg. None of
the monuments and adornings were highly expensive, though all were
neat, and a few were elaborate. There was considerable taste displayed
in the care of the grounds, as we can see from the few traces
that remain. The eye is arrested by a notice, prominently posted,
forbidding the destruction or mutilation of any shrub, tree, or stone
about the place, under severe penalties. The defiance that war gives
to the civil law is forcibly apparent as one peruses those warning
lines.

"Monuments and head-stones lie everywhere overturned. Graves, which
loving hands once carefully adorned, have been trampled by horses'
feet until the vestiges of verdure have disappeared. The neat and
well-trained shrubbery has vanished, or is but a broken and withered
mass of tangled brushwood. On one grave lies the body of a horse, fast
decomposing under the July sun. On another lie the torn garments of
some wounded soldier, stained and saturated with blood. Across a small
head-stone, bearing the words, 'To the memory of our beloved child,
Mary,' lie the fragments of a musket shattered by a cannon-shot.

"In the center of a space inclosed by an iron fence, and containing a
half-dozen graves, a few rails are standing where they were erected by
our soldiers to form their shelter in bivouac. A family shaft has been
broken in fragments by a shell. Stone after stone felt the effects of
the _feu d'enfer_ that was poured upon the crest of the hill. Cannon
thundered, and foot and horse soldiers tramped over the resting-place
of the dead. Other dead were added to those who are resting here. Many
a wounded soldier lives to remember the contest above those silent
graves.

"The hill on which this cem