The Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1837-1867, 1865-02-24

Tuuc cart IHtO WHICH tiley are thrown Is
driven off with its ghastly freight At
any hour one may see men bearing across
the enclosure the pallid and wasted figure
of soldier, whom The rebels have starry
ed or frozen to death with malice pre-
pense.
Thersgoes into the dead house young
man who, four years ago, was the idol of his
circle. Possessed of beauty, genius, for
tune, friends that could mako Earth
sweet-he quilted the attractions of life
of ease and luxurious home, and took up
his musket that his country might he truly
free. Not even she who loved him better
than a sister: more intensely than mother,
would recognize him among the heaped-up
dead The unclosed eye and jaw make that
once handsome face hideous to view; and
suffering, and neglect, and cruelty have
changed it into a vision of responsiveness
and horror.
But why seek to paint these scenes
which defy descriptions Everywhere is
pain, squalor and horror.
All day long one sees wretched, hag-
gard, sick and dying men in every part of
the enclosure. Their faces tell their story
I'm unwritten epic in the saddest num-
bers: their wasted forms reveal the in
humanity and barbarity Of a savage foe
Amid all that assemblage of thousands
of men, though the sun shines, and the
birds sing in the groves near by, not a
laugh nor a jest is heard-not the taintest
sound of merrymaking. Not single
face relaxes into smile, every eye is dull
with dependency, every cheek sunken
with want, every lip trembling with un-
uttered pain.
Disease and death there hold high car
nival, and the mirror of misery is held up
| to every vacant stare.
The air is heavy with plants and pray
ers, and groans, and over that accursed
camp hangs the pail of despair. Guer-
cino could paint no darker picture. In
deed, no limner, no artist in words or col
ors, could give just idea of the scenes of
that terrestrial Tophet.
Suffering everywhere and no power to
relieve it. In every tent and hole in the
ground. wherever you tread or turn, gaunt
and ghostly men. perishing by inches. glare
on YOU like accusing specters, until you
find yourself forced to exclaim. '.Thank
God, | am not responsible for this
Woe to those who are responsible, to
the inhuman rebels who plundered our
poor soldiers of their clothing, and turned
them into that tiIthyepen to die; who
have storehouses full of provisions, and
yet starve their unfortunate captives with
Il tiendish persistcncy which one must he
a believer in total depravity to under
stand.
Now that l have escaped from that
Hades of Salisbury. l marvel how l ever
endured to breathe that peStilential air
how | continued. week after week. and
month after month, to keep my hold upon
that dark point Of the planet
Truly. it seems like nightmare dream:
and can hardly realize l ever lived. and
walked, and labored, in that place of shud-
dering horrors.
While sit writing in an easy chair.
glancing out of the widow at the gay
| throng of the ever changing Broadway.
hear the peals of Trinity and the vast roar
of the metropolis, wonder if have not
been browsing after reading Poe. and fol-
lowing his ghastly fancies into the mystic
sphere of sleep.
1t is not real. | think. With all this
hustle, and energy, and beauty, and plen-
ty, and enlightenment, and Christianity
about me, it cannot be that thousand
miles away hundreds of heroes, who have
borne our tlay on dozens of immortal
fields, are dying every week from the pre-
meditated cruelty of the rebels
Surely it cannot be, for the Government
is aware of all the atrocities of Southern
prisons: it has heard the story over and
over again from the lips of sufferers: and,
if it were as has been represented. the
Government would make some effort TO
relieve its staunch supporters and its brave
defenders
Alas that the story is too true; that it
is written in thousands of unknown graves.
which cry out to heaven for redress. and
yet cry in vain!
''What can be done?'' ask timid and
sentimental gentlemen, who, lying on soft
couches and slipping delicious wines. de-
clare retaliation barbarous, and insist that
all will intimately be we'll
What will he, we know not; but, GER
tes, all is ill enough at present
1.-The best government the world ever
saw" seems willing its soldiers should per-
ish by hundreds and thousands. too much
influenced by false idea of Christianity
to protect them by prompt and vigorous
retaliation.
1t is highly Christian to have our brave
defenders systematically murdered by a
barbarous foe; but supremely unchristian
to transfer portion of their suffering t.
those who have so long and so needlessly
inflicted it.
Strange reasoning; incomprehensiblf
logic!
Patriots, heroes, martyrs, at Salisbury
who will do you justice: who will sing tn
epic of your life and death None, none
l fear.
) Your doom seems written: and yet
while see you now, as have seen yOl
in the past, slowly tortured to the tomb
my heart goes forth to YOU. all HELPLESS a