Daily Ohio statesman. [volume] (Columbus, Ohio) 1855-1870, 1865-03-31
,NhN NUMBER 23$ w
Qobia9 Sstatksttait.T
MORE HORRORS.

4SLAAflIlAbLEh hCifrsEb, ~ 100
: In the Army of the Potomac there Is a
stocladel of logs, twenty feet high, 0apdy
sharpened at tue tops, and known as the
"Bull Pen," in which captured desefters
are confined before executed tInr,it there
their fate. Henry Clay sTrumbtilf, Chap
lain of the Connecticut Tenth; thus writes
of these shocking scenes.i eds Vsb19fs9Y
Executions for, desertion, are common,
nowadays in the Armies of the Potomac,
and james. AS many as sixty or the cap
tiired rtlnaways have been confined, at one
time in, the Provost Marshal's prisnfDnanipi
ofla single division. The "Bun Ren,n, as
this inclosnre Is universally v called. Is q c0l-'
lection of tents surrounded by Close stock
ade of pine logs twenty feet high guarded
on all sides. Just at the rightof its entrance,
outside OF its, walls, is a small log-cabin,
used as the condemned cell. The man who,
enters that goes only to execution. Sad
stories OF remorse and agony the walls Of
that low, dark, gloomy cabin could tell
Soon as convenient, after deserter, Is, ar
rested, on his way to the enemy or the rear,
and charges preferred against him, he is
tried before general c0urt-martial. 2 tpd
l1 o AVERY SAD CASE. .os rr0iJ naY9
The saddest case is the latest. A boy not
yet sixteen, born and brought up In the up-f
per part of New York city, was met in the,
street by hellish broker, and enticed away
to Connecticut to be sold as substitute
He was far from being a bright boy, seemi5
iDgly not full witted, but his childish ways;
were touchingly attractive. He said-and
probably with truth-that until the broker
led him off he had never passed a night
away from hisparents. Like tired, home-li
sick school-boy, determined to play truant,
he started to run home. Being arrested, he
again slipped off; but was once more
caught, as he exercised no shrewdness
In his flight. Being tried and sentenced
to death, he was put-in the condemned
cell in-the evening, to be shot the following
morning. His boyish grief swhen told he
was to die, was heartrending. ,,4--..D
With unaffected naturalness he sobbed
out his lament over his own hard lot, and
tor the dear ones at home. '.Me, so Young,
togo outside the breastworks, and-and see
the coffin and grave there, and then be
shot / don't want to be Killed. Won't
the General pardon me?" On being assur-
ed that his execution was certainty, he
urged the chaplain not to let his friends
know how he died, 'for they'd feel so bad
about it." he said. 81 suppose it would
killmy father" (for some reason his father
seemed closer to his heart than his mother,)
"Isuppose it would kill 'em all. They'd be
it." Once convinced that it was too late to
obtain areprieve-no official short of the
department commander having the power g
to grant it, and there being no time to OBJ /,
tain it from him, and having cried his cry
out, he quieted like weary child, and lis
tened to all the chaplain could say to aid in
preparing him for the eternal future. s0 sdi
Kneelipg on the soaked, swampy ground,
under the dripping roof ofthat gloomy cab
in, In the dark and stormy night, he folded
his fettered hands, and meekly said his lit
tie evening prayer, and committed himself,
in seeming confidence to his Heavenly Fa-
theirs care. He could not read, but he had
been taught in one OF the blessed mission
schools of-New York, and seemed to have a
simple, child-like faith in God. Probably
he had not been addicted to vicious habits.
He said, when asked about the way he
spent his evenings, that he 'always worked q
in the factory daytimes, and when evening
came was tired, and went to bed early,ns1
His father and mother prayed with him,
and taught him to do right. IF your life
should be spared" asked the chaplain,
'would you love God and try to serve
him~ why, yes" he answered, II
always did love him." as though, In his
child-like trust, he had no cause Of ennity
with the Father to whom he had BEEN
drawn in grateful confidence. After, his
first hard cry, the thought of death did not !,
seem to occupy him. 'A',''tA
He was too much of child To fully real-aa
ize it. just before he went out to be shot
he turned to the chaplain and asked, as in a
boyish curiosity, "If 1 die to-day, will my
soul go right to heaven to-day?" Arriving
at the field of execution he was not at all
disturbed by the terrific preparations. He
walked up to the open grave and looked in a
quiringly into it withouta Sunderland then
he turned to gaze at the firing party as
though he saw only kind-hearted comrades
there. He kneeled again to pray as calmly
as if he were to lie down-in his own little
crib at home. just as his arms were beings
bound bird flew by, and he, twisted his
head around to follow with his gaze the bird
in its flight, as though he should like to
chase it; then he looked back again at the
bright muskets with soft and steady eye as
before. "Let me kneel on the ground and i
rest on the cofiin," he said as they fixed him
in position. "NO, kneel on the coffin," was
the order. So kneeling there he settled
himself down into weary crouching pos-ai
ture, as though he were. to wait thus longiu
and tiresome time. He had hardly takencr
this place before he fell back dead with ev-
cry bullet Of the firing platoon directly
through his chest--three through his heaft.is
He uttered never a groan, nor did his frame
quiver. ., ......, = r,,.-. go
Even such boys as that are here shot II
they desert. But are they guilty above
those who send them here? Yadl blrass yhW