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<p>We have met here today to honor the deeds and memory of her sons who fell on this battlefield, sons who, with undaunted courage and stainless honor, made the supreme sacrifice.
North Carolina soldiers constituted more than one-fourth of the Confederate troops in the battle of Gettysburg.
Up yonder slope, into a withering maelstrom of shrieking shells and deadly bullets, marched the flower of our Southland. It was incomparable; nothing in history surpassed it; DeSaix at Marengo, Cambronne at Waterloo are its nearest approaches. That slope ran red with blood. Over the ramparts bristling with cannon surged North Carolinians to death and defeat. It is sacred ground, baptized and consecrated with human life. 
On this and a hundred battlefields should be erected monuments bearing the Spartan inscription, “Go stranger and Lacedaemon tell, that here obeying her behests we fell.”
On the crest of that ridge sixty-six years ago the constellation of the Southern Cross commenced to wane in the firmament of nations, fading each day until it passed forever beyond the sunset’s radiant glow into the realm of glorious history from the field of Appomattox.
To my mind the Confederate soldier is one of the most gloriously pathetic figures in the world’s history. He fought for a belief, and fought with a courage and devotion never surpassed in any army among any people.
He gave all and lost all, save honor, in defense of a cause which he held dearer than life and which he believed was just; and, when it was over and the go of battles had decreed against him, he accepted the result with a fortitude which characterizes the noble and the brave.
I can see him fighting above the clouds at Chickamauga, dying in the bayous at Vicksburg, charging up yonder slope; in victory and defeat; in it all and through it all, he was a splendid and heroic figure. 
I can see him, bearded man or beardless boy who when his country called, donned his suit of grey, shouldered his rifle and marched forth with heart attuned to the strain of “Dixie” to fight for and, if need be, to die for the sake of home. 
On a hundred battlefields thousands of them sleep, sleep in graves the sod of which is turned by the bayonets of their comrades. Sleeping in sweet peace eternal, there they await the coming of a new life.
Those who survived the awful conflict went back to the land they loved; ragged, penniless, heartsore and weary, back to the desolate homes and blackened firesides. There accepted the result in the spirit of their great chieftain, Lee and with resignation and fortitude sustained by indomitable courage and hallowed by memories they set themselves to the task of rebuilding an empire.
The old South with its romance and glamour has passed; new conditions had arisen; civilization has entered a new phase. The task was great, but what a wonder they wrought.
Today the South is a land of happy and contented people; a land as beautiful as the vale of Cashmere; a land of thrift, industry and plenty’ a land which offers apologies to none for its past and glories in its record.
And you rari nantes in gurgite vasto, a few survivors afloat on the face of the Deep, the whole world honors and respects you, your own people love and idolize you, your deed are recorded on the imperishable tablets of Time; in war you made a record which is the proud heritage of your country, in peace you have shown mankind how to survive and gain victory from the ashes of defeat.
At Appomattox when the Bonnie Blue Flag was furled forever you came back into the Union never to leave it. At El Caney, at Santiago, at Cardenas you gave your sons to the Union.</p>
<ul><li>Keywords: Gettysburg; Gettysburg National Military Park; Photography; monuments; memorials; virtual experience; battlefield</li></ul>
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