Waterbury evening Democrat., 1894-06-18
IN THE MOONLIGHT.
There Was No Need of Bullets For tn
Victim.


Victim.
An army on the march is q monster SO
full of vindictivcness and hate and do
struction that those who go to make up
tho number arc appalled, afterward. 1t
has cut loose from its camps to find the
enemy. 1t thirsts for his blood AS it
marches along it takes flendish delight in
destruction. Kill and destroy; destroy and
kill. Nothing is too sacred, nothing too
trifling. Flames and destruction mark the
advance; tears and ashes greet the last
stragglers
We had captured spy in our midst rs
tho column halted at shutdown. Perhaps
he was not n spy, but citizen making his
way across the country and caught in the
crush of q marching corps, as he claimed.
"A spyp' shouted some one.
IA spyl A spyl" shouted hundred
others.
There was peril to him in their tones.
All day long they had marched and de-
stroyed and laid waste and felt impatient
to shed blood. That one cry was like the
savage growl of a hungry wolf. A score
of men rushed ut the stranger, and in u
minute his arms were tied and men were
inquiring for corps headquarters.
SnOOU MIN! hung MIMI MIMI QulCh
work of him!'
So they called after him as he was led
away. He was n young man, and the sud
den peril seemed to stun him. He did not
protest, but hung his head and walked
quietly along. No one piticd him; no one
hoped he could prove his innocence Tho
savage spirit of war was aroused in every
breast, and men laughed gleefully as they
told him he would die.
A tent on q knoll-a sentinel marching
to and fro-a flag with its staff stuck in
tho earth. That was corps headquarters
The general was within, too busy except
to try spy.
''Who is it9' he demanded as he looked
up, with n frown.
Captured as spy, sirl''
'Who arc your
George Johnson
"Of what placc?'
Charlotte county, sir.
''What are you doing here?"
ION my way home. I have been over
to Amelia Courthouse.
''You are n ID spy! You have been
tried and convicted! Major Jordan, see to
1t that he is shot within Is minutes! We
can't bother to hang himn'
Yes sir. About face! Forward march!
You men stick close to him till 1 can de-
tail firing party"
Tho man was white faced, but dumb.
He cast his eyes around him like ono who
wonders if he is not dreaming. Tents
cannon, musketS, sabcrs-the monster Of
war jingling his spurs around hundred
baleful campfires. Pity? No! Mercy? No!
Not even an investigation to prove tho
truth or falsity of his statements. Had no
been discovered in camp he might even
have been sent to Washington and given
fair trial, but we had cut loose from
camp. No trial, no jury, no delay. Ono
single man had adjudged him guilty and
said that he must die.
Fall in! Forward, march Halt!'
1t was the firing party coming up-six
men and q sergeant, who had been taken
from their campfircs and their suppcrs. AS
the sun went down the moon showed her
SELF and ono could almost count the leaves
on the branches above
Forward march! Column right! Col
umn left''
That way!" said the major rs he point
ed to the west and turned on his heel
Two Of us led the man in advance. We
halted at Il spot not 200 feet from head
quarters. Tho six men We're brought into
line, and we stepped back and left the
prisoner alone. Not q word of protest,
not word of entreaty, not II denial
White faced, hollow eyed and dumb tor
ror showing in every line Of his face, the
man did not appear to even breathe.
"Order arms! Load! Carry arms!'
The man bent forward as looking at the
soldiers, scarcely 10 feet away but l saw
that his look went over and beyond them
His jaw fell, and n shiver went over him.
Death was looking into his CLASSY eyes.
Sure work, now! Aim''--
The next order would have sent the bull
lets crashing into his breast but it was
not given. Just as the word trcmhlcd on
the scrgcants lips the man threw up his
hands and fell at full length on his back
"DeadS" quericd the sergeant.
Yes, dcad!' replied tho surgeon, who
had been summoned.
What killed him?"
Terror! Get spades and bury him!
Three spades-three soldiers-one grave
a dead man covered in, never to be heard
of again by friend or foe! In week no
man can point out his grave.
six bullets saved and spy under
ground!'' laughed the diggers as they re-
turned to their campflres
Who knows? Who will ever know! Tho
drumhcad court martial buries its victims
and forgcts that they ever lived.
NJ. QUAD