Year: 1865

ened at the tops, and known as the "Bull
Pen" in which captured deseIters are con-
fined before execution. In it there are
about sixty wretched men, awaiting their
fate. Henry Clay Trumbull, Chaplain of the
Connecticut 10th, thus writes Of these shock
ing scenes: Executions for desertion are
common nova days in the armies of the Po-
tonac and James. AS many as sixty of the
captured ruuaways have been confined at
one time in the Provost. Marshals prison
camp Of single division. The "Bull Pen"
as this inclosure is universally called, is a
collection of tents surrounded by close
stockade of pine logs twenty feet high, guard .
ed on all sides. just at the right of its en-
trance, outside of its walls, is small log
cabin used as the condemned cell. The man
who enters that goes out 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 est
ed on his way to the enemy or rear, and


charges preferred against him, he is tried be-
fore general court martial.


The saddest case is the latest A boy
not yet SIXTEEN born and brought up in the
upper part of New York city, was met in
the street by hellish broker, and enticed
away to Connecticut to be sold as substi-
tute. He was far from being bright boy,
seemingly not full witted, but his childish
ways were touchingly attractive. He said
and probably with truth-that until the
broker led him of he lad never passed a
night away from his parents. Like tired
homesck school boy determined to play tru-
ant, he started to run home. Being arrest


ed, he again slipped off; but was once m 1re
caught, as he exercised no shrewdness in his
| flight. Being tried and sentenced to death,
he was put into the condemned cell in the
evening, 10 be shot in the following morning.
HIS boyish grief when told he was to die wa s
heart-rendng, With unaffected uaturalness
| he sobbed out his lament over his own hard
| lot, for the dear onts at home. "Me, so
young, to 60 outside the breast works, 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 be ing assured
tha. his execution was certainty, he urged
the chaplain not to let his friends know bow
he died, ''fur they'd feel so had about it,"
he said. II suppose it would kill my father;
(for some reason his father seemed closer to
his heart than his mother,) Il suppose it
would kill 'em all. They'd be thinking of it
nights, Don't tell 'em about it," Once
| convinced that it was too late to obtain a
reprieve-no official short Of the department
commander having the power to grant it


and there being no time to obtain it from
him, and having cried his cry out-he quiet


ed like weary child, and listened to all the
chaplain could say to aid in preparing him for
the eternal future. Kueeling on the soaked


swampy ground, under the dripping roof of
that gloomy cabin, in the dark and stormy
night, he folded his fettered hands, AM meek


y said his little evening prayer, and commit
ted himself in seeming confidence to his
Heavenly Fathers care. He could not read,
but he had been taught in one of the blessed
mission schools of New York, and had
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 i'll the
factory daytimes, and when evening came be
was tired, and went to bed early" His fa-
ther 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 2" "Why, YES %
he answered )" always did love him, as
though, in his childish trust. he had 10
cadse of enmity with the Father to whom be
had been drawn in grateful confidence
Alter his first hard cry, the bought of death
did not seem to occupy him. He was too
much of child to fully realize. Just be-
fore he went out to be- shot, he turned to
the chaplain and asked, as in boyish cur,os-
sity, "If die to-day will my soul 60 right
to heaven torday 2" Arriving at the field
of execution he Was not at all disturbed by
the terrific preparations. lie walked up to
the open grave and looked inquiringly into it
without shudder, and 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 being bound a
, bird few by, and he twisted his head around
to follow with his gaze the bird to its fight
40 though he should like to chase it; then
he looked back again at the bright muskets
with soft end steady eye as before. "Let
me kneel on the ground and rest on the
coffin" he said as thew fixed him in position
"No, kneel ON the cofin," was the order
So kneeing there he settled himself dowr
| into weary crouch,ng posture as though
he were to wait thus long and tiresom,