Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1886-05-19

so carelessly playing at so terrible n
brink as you stand on.
Colonel" was the reply, IL thank
you for your interest. If we are Ma
tlonal enemies, YOU speak as man
and soldier. But let me say this"
(now | can not explain what induced
me to make the following foolish, bragg
CART spccch): Colonel, you or | may
die before night; we do not know (;
but i'm so far as the result Of your
courts finding is concerned, will be
alive when you and your twelve officers
are dead and forgotten "
He left me in disgust, and | don't
blame him. But such was my feeling.
l did not "fccl IL in my bones" "a the
slang goes, that death was so near.
The Colonel and the entire twelve COM
posing the court died before L was ex-
changed-"sh To death" in one charge
at Coal Harbor. live to write the
occurrence twenty-five years after the
conversation.
1t may or may not be true that when
the grim monster singles out his victim
he sends him some way spiritual pre-
monition that he Is going TO let fly
from Deaths CULVER the fatal dart. Be
that as il may-I had no premonition
of death. Not when they stood me up
to hear my sentence and to answer, nor
afterwards in the cool contemplation
my isolation and silent dungeon
afforded not when the officer of the
| day, on that cventful execution morn
ing, read to me i'm my dungeon the
days programme and dclincated my
doom at the hands of twelve detailed
soldiers. He found me whistling as /
paced my narrow cell that morning and
exclaimed in surprise
Good God, Captain what kind of a
man are you ?"
'.Oh, l don't know; skin and bone,
flesh and sinew, blood and bile. Why ?'
"Why! Don't you know you are to
be shot today Outside here are the
twelve men detailed to send you into
eternity. You'll never. see another
morning! And here you arc whist
ling !"
"Wcll, why not whistle rs long as
possible, and cry when you can not
laugh ?"
Hence, / may not be able to tell just
how man feels who stares death
calmly in the face, for may be / did
not comprehend my situation. But
| / was sentenced to death, that / fully
comprehendcd when they marched me,
hand-cuffed, between two guards with
arms at,"chargc' and bayonets fixed,
back to the prison and instead of to
my former ~ by II cell, barred
| and bOltcd me in an underground,
dark, dank dungeon, three feet by ten,
significantly suggestive that | was to
stay right there until the day and hour.
The sentence was fully realized during
the sunless days and no darker nights
of the weeks that followed.
Daylight! Good God, man! you do
not appreciate what a ray of glad,
bright sunlight is until shut in from all
| that makes day beautiful. Oh, yes;
comprehend, slightly, that mine was
no trifing sentence, as | crouchcd in
that felt darkness, waiting till dilated
pupils enabled me to sec imperfectly
what was the dampness that touched.
Finally, however, | was permitted to
send out and buy lamp, and to keep
it lighted. The walls had been re-
peatedly whitewashcd, but the humid
filth oOzing through the bricks had
pushed it Off in discolorcd flakes. The
floor was stone; solid or ccmented
mass that once ncgativcd any Inorganic
idea of digging out" Away up
wonder, ten or twelve feet away, was
the archcd brick ceiling, whose sweaty
surface told it, too, was under sod.
| Shiny snails and Thousand legs" drew
their clammy WAYS across the moist
walls and floor: vcrmin found and fed
upon the noxious dirt-damp; the dis
gustcd rats that crept in ut the grated
door, darted back TO find Il more yield
ing substance for their burrowing
| teeth.
But the dampncss and the darkness
and the dirt were but grains of dust
compared to the unutterablc loneliness
| that grew upon me in that sepulchre.
| Not human soul-not even Il brute,
| except the scampcrinC rats-to break
the stiffness of that murky tomb! Out
Wonder, somewhere, ! knew was grim
sentry, for heard the measured tread
of the relief as they left him on his
lonely post. But never saw or heard
| him.
Twice day, grimly silent, came the
cooks detail with my barrack soup or
coffee. But he was mute, under strict
orders not to speak or signal to the
prisoner, rs his baker-likc shovel
reached i'm my morscl of food. Per-
dition! how | strovc to make him speak!
II he only would curse me, abuse me,
any thing; even his profanity would
have sounded as melody in my solitude.
| never knew what music there was
in the human voice till in that dungeon
where it never sounded and where /
soon grew startled at my own.
The post chalcain's was the only
human voice heard foi wccks-and his
only once, for my levity shocked him
so that he gave me up as an irredeem-
able rcprobatc. He offered Il payer
for me, however, | courtcously kneel-
ing with him on the stone floor. But
he never came again. He told me-
what my occasionally allowed letters
from my friends had too plainly in
formed me-that there was no hope of
escape from the fate that seemed to
them and the outside world to be
staring me i'm the face. Every possible
effort had been made, every available
influence pressed into service with the
President, and he had positively de-
clincd interfering with the judgment
of the court-martial. The worthy
chaplain corroboratcd their sad in
formation. Said he:
Captain, you should prepare for
death, for your life ends in few
days"
Here was food for reflection, surely.
In the prime and vigor of early man
hood, my veins thrilling with the
bounding energy of young blood, with
life just begun, with its plans, schemes
and purposes all to work out; young
wife and two children, with all the
hopes of joy existence with them gave;
ambitious walks all wide before me
waiting to be trod; what burning pages
yet unread in the book of life!
In battle the half read paragraph of
life Is suddenly left with a dash -,
an unseen, unfclt bullet cuts off with
out a thought the ''might-bc.'
n..A