The Sun.
London, England, 1855-09-27 00:00:00

THE HOSPITAL OF SEBASTOPOL.

Of all the pictures of the horrors of war which have
ever been presented to the world, the hospital of Sebas-
topol presents the most horrible, heartrending, and re-
volting. It cannot be described, and the imagination
of a Fuseli could not conceive anything at all like unto
it. How the poor human body can he mutilated and
yet hold its soul within, when every limb is shattered,
and every vein and artery is pouring out the life stream,
one might study here at every step, and at the same
time wonder how little will kill ! The building used as
an hospital is one of the noble piles inside the dockyard
wall, and is situate in the centre of the row at right
angles to the line of the Redan. The whole row was
peculiarly exposed to the action of shot and shell bound-
ing over the Redan, and to the missiles directed at the
Barrack Battery, and it bears in sides, roof, windows,
and doors, frequent and distinctive proofs of the severity
of the cannonade. Entering one ofthese doors I beheld such
a sight as few men, thank God, have ever witnessed !
In a long low room, supported by square pillars, arched
at the top, and dimly lighted through shattered and un-
glazed window frames, lay the wounded Russians, who
had been abandoned to our mercies by their General.
The wounded, did I say ? No, but the dead, the rotten
and festering corpses of the soldiers, who were left to
die in their extreme agony, untended, uncared for,
packed as close as they could be stowed, some on the
floor, others on wretched tressels and bedsteads, or pal-
lets of straw, sopped and saturated with blood, which
oozed and trickled through upon the floor, mingled with
the droppings of corruption. With the roar of explod-
ing fortresses in their ears, with shells and shot pouring
through the roof and sides of the rooms in which they
lay, with the crackling and hissing of fire around them,
these poor fellows, who had Served their loving friend
and master the Czar but too well, were consigned to
their terrible fate. Many might have been saved by or-
dinary care. Many lay, yet alive, with maggots crawl-
ing about in their wounds. Many, nearly mad by the
scene around them, or seeking escape from it in their
extremest agony, had rolled away under the beds, and
glared out on the heartstricken spectator, oh ! with suoh
looks ! Many with legs and arms broken and twisted,
the jagged sptinters sticking through the raw flesh, im-
plored aid, water, food, or pity, or, deprived of speech
by the approach of death, or by dreadful injuries in the
head or trunk, pointed to the lethal spot. Many seemed
bent alone on making their peace with He liven. The at-
titudes of some were so hideously fantastic as to appal and
root one to the grouud by a sort of dreadful fascination.
Could that bloody mass of clothing and white &hies ever
have been a human being, or that burnt black mass of flesh
have ever had a human soul ? It was fearful to think
what the answer must be. The bodies of numbers of
men were swollen and bloated to an incredible degree,
and the features distended to a gigantic size, with eyes
protruding from the sockets, and the blackened tongue
lolling out of the mouth, compressed tightly by the teeth,
which had set upon it in the death rattle, math) one
shudder and reel round. In the midst of one of these
"chambers of horrors"—for there were many of them—
were found some dead and some living English soldiers,
and among them poor Captain Vaughan, of the 90th,
who has since succumbed to his wounds. I confess it
was impossible for me to stand the sight, which horrified
our most experienced surgeons ; the deadly, clammy
stench, the smell of gangrened wounds, of corrupted
blood, of rotting flesh, were intolerable and odious be-
yond endurance. But what must have the wounded felt
who were obliged to endure all this, and who passed
away without a hand to give them a cup of water, or a
voice to say one kindly word to them ? Most of those
men were wounded on Saturday—many perhaps on the
Friday before—indeed it is impossible to say how long
they might have been there. In the hurry of their re-
treat the Muscovites seem to have carried in dead men
to get them out of the way, and to have put them upon
pallets in horrid mockery. So that their retreat was
secured the enemy cared but little for their wounded.

On Monday only did they receive those whom we sent
out to them during a brief armistice for the purpose,
which was, I believe, sought by ourselves, as our over-
crowded hospitals could not contain and our overworked
surgeons could not attend to any more.