Those three,
and those twelve, had been found, I say, by these environing
regiments. Now, with revolvers, they form'd the grim cordon of the
seventeen prisoners. The latter were placed in the midst of the hollow
square, unfasten'd, and the ironical remark made to them that they
were now to be given "a chance for themselves." A few ran for it. But
what use? From every side the deadly pills came. In a few minutes the
seventeen corpses strew'd the hollow square. I was curious to know
whether some of the Union soldiers, some few, (some one or two at
least of the youngsters,) did not abstain from shooting on the
helpless men. Not one. There was no exultation, very little said,
almost nothing, yet every man there contributed his shot.
Multiply the above by scores, aye hundreds--verify it in all the forms
that different circumstances, individuals, places, could afford--light
it with every lurid passion, the wolf's, the lion's lapping thirst
for blood--the passionate, boiling volcanoes of human revenge for
comrades, brothers slain--with the light of burning farms, and
heaps of smutting, smouldering black embers--and in the human heart
everywhere black, worse embers--and you have an inkling of this war.
GIFTS--MONEY--DISCRIMINATION
As a very large proportion of the wounded came up from the front
without a cent of money in their pockets, I soon discover'd that it
was about the best thing I could do to raise their spirits, and show
them that somebody cared for them, and practically felt a fatherly or
brotherly interest in them, to give them small sums in such cases,
using tact and discretion about it.
Pages:
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104