Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1900-04-02

tight over their skeleton frames, with
trembling limbs and sunken eyes, they
| glared on us more like demons than
men, to such an extent had they been
reduced by starvation and exposure
In the language of one of our number.
"It was like entering the borders Of
hell, where the gathered demons had
crowded to the passage to bid US
| cordial welcome to their Internal
abodes.n Like grim Sam Scroggins
and a proud Sam Smith, helpless and
shorn of their strength (though in no
wise tipsy) most of them stood sad
and sorrowfully by, and scanned
every feature, as though fearful they
might discover among US, brother,
father, son or relative. Yet, among
them were some to whom the sight
of new recruits seemed to re-ani-
mate from their languor, depres-
sion and announcement. sYour
coming, friends, revives me-" and SO
they set up a yell of "Fresh ish!"
"Fresh fish" "More fresh fish,"
What they meant by vulture like
cries of fresh fish we were as yet un-
instructed. Were they about to draw
rations of speckled trout, and would
we get some of them; or had they
caught few from the narrow, shall
low stream we saw enter the stocka6e
at our left as we came in, and were
hawking them for sale. We didn't
need to inquire many times before we
found out that we, ourselves were the
"Fresh fish, referred to, and that all
new arrivals were considered as such.
The rebel sergeant led us across the
camp from west to east, back to the
west side again, then across the creek
to the north side of the camp, where
he left us. We were informed that we
could go anywhere we pleased inside
the stockade, but must be at the spot
where we were left, at roll call at
o'clock in the morning, and to draw
our rations whenever they were
brought in, anywhere from IL in the
forenoon to in the afternoon, as
best suited the convenience of the
authorities at head quarters. Go
when, or turn whichever way we
would, the same dismal scene of
wretchedness confronted us; the same
squalid forms crawled past; The same
sullen looks of dispair was on every
face. Men made in the image of God,
some without hats Or coats, some
without shirts, others without pants,
a majority without boots or shoes and
many almost as nude as they were
born into the world lying prone upon
the ground, some upon their faces
hiding from the fury of the sun, some
upon their backs too weak to turn,
some crawling on their hands and
knees, many of them covered with
gangrene and scurvy sores with mag
gots crawling on them so thick they
might almost be scraped off by the
handful; some with arms, hands, feet
or eyes, burned and blistered by the
sun, till they had puffed up and burst
open; some bloated with dropsy, and
others SO run down with diarrhRa that
they were mere skeletons of skin and
bone; some calling loudly for a drink
of water, or begging for help that
could not be rendered them. Such
scenes reminded tender hearted
rebel spectator of Satan's soliloquy:
(Which way [ fly is hell; myself am HE'LL
And in the lower deeps, a lower deep
Still threatening to devour me, "opens wide.
SO sudden the transition from the
outer world and so unexpected the
sights, that [ seemed to be swimming
'ound and round in the midst of a vast
Hhirl pool of struggling humanity
about to be swallowed up in the
lepths below, and [ sat down on the
ground and buried my face in my
lands to shut out the horrd scenes
md mediate on "man's inhumanity
o man."
e. H WEBSTER
TO BE CONTINUED.