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andersonville-第92章

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               Sickness and sorrow; pain and death
               Are felt and feared no more。

Our 〃preparations;〃 for leaving were few and simple。  When the morning
came; and shortly after the order to move; Andrews and I picked our well…
worn blanket; our tattered overcoat; our rude chessmen; and no less rude
board; our little black can; and the spoon made of hoop…iron; and bade
farewell to the hole…in…the…ground that had been our home for nearly
seven long months。

My feet were still in miserable condition from the lacerations received
in the attempt to escape; but I took one of our tent poles as a staff and
hobbled away。  We re…passed the gates which we had entered on that
February night; ages since; it seemed; and crawled slowly over to the
depot。

I had come to regard the Rebels around us as such measureless liars that
my first impulse was to believe the reverse of anything they said to us;
and even now; while I hoped for the best; my old habit of mind was so
strongly upon me that I had some doubts of our going to be exchanged;
simply because it was a Rebel who had said so。  But in the crowd of
Rebels who stood close to the road upon which we were walking was a young
Second Lieutenant; who said to a Colonel as I passed:

〃Weil; those fellows can sing 'Homeward Bound;' can't they?〃

This set my last misgiving at rest。  Now I was certain that we were going
to be exchanged; and my spirits soared to the skies。

Entering the cars we thumped and pounded toilsomely along; after the
manner of Southern railroads; at the rate of six or eight miles an hour。
Savannah was two hundred and forty miles away; and to our impatient minds
it seemed as if we would never get there。  The route lay the whole
distance through the cheerless pine barrens which cover the greater part
of Georgia。  The only considerable town on the way was Macon; which had
then a population of five thousand or thereabouts。  For scores of miles
there would not be a sign of a human habitation; and in the one hundred
and eighty miles between Macon and Savannah there were only three
insignificant villages。  There was a station every ten miles; at which
the only building was an open shed; to shelter from sun and rain a casual
passenger; or a bit of goods。

The occasional specimens of the poor white 〃cracker〃 population that we
saw; seemed indigenous products of the starved soil。  They suited their
poverty…stricken surroundings as well as the gnarled and scrubby
vegetation suited the sterile sand。  Thin…chested; round…shouldered;
scraggy…bearded; dull…eyed and open…mouthed; they all looked alikeall
looked as ignorant; as stupid; and as lazy as they were poor and weak。
They were 〃low…downers〃 in every respect; and made our rough and simple。
minded East Tennesseans look like models of elegant and cultured
gentlemen in contrast。

We looked on the poverty…stricken land with good…natured contempt; for we
thought we were leaving it forever; and would soon be in one which;
compared to it; was as the fatness at Egypt to the leanness of the desert
of Sinai。

The second day after leaving Andersonville our train struggled across the
swamps into Savannah; and rolled slowly down the live oak shaded streets
into the center of the City。  It seemed like another Deserted Village;
so vacant and noiseless the streets; and the buildings everywhere so
overgrown with luxuriant vegetation: The limbs of the shade trees crashed
along and broke; upon the tops of our cars; as if no train had passed
that way for years。  Through the interstices between the trees and clumps
of foliage could be seen the gleaming white marble of the monuments
erected to Greene and Pulaski; looking like giant tombstones in a City of
the Dead。  The unbroken stillnessso different from what we expected on
entering the metropolis of Georgia; and a City that was an important port
in Revolutionary daysbecame absolutely oppressive。  We could not
understand it; but our thoughts were more intent upon the coming transfer
to our flag than upon any speculation as to the cause of the remarkable
somnolence of Savannah。

Finally some little boys straggled out to where our car was standing; and
we opened up a conversation with them:

〃Say; boys; are our vessels down in the harbor yet?〃

The reply came in that piercing treble shriek in which a boy of ten or
twelve makes even his most confidential communications:

〃I don't know。〃

〃Well;〃 (with our confidence in exchange somewhat dashed;) 〃they intend
to exchange us here; don't they?〃

Another falsetto scream; 〃I don't know。〃

〃Well;〃 (with something of a quaver in the questioner's voice;) 〃what are
they going to do; with us; any way?〃

〃O;〃 (the treble shriek became almost demoniac) 〃they are fixing up a
place over by the old jail for you。〃

What a sinking of hearts was there then!  Andrews and I would not give up
hope so speedily as some others did; and resolved to believe; for awhile
at least; that we were going to be exchanged。

Ordered out of the cars; we were marched along the street。  A crowd of
small boys; full of the curiosity of the animal; gathered around us as we
marched。  Suddenly a door in a rather nice house opened; an angry…faced
woman appeared on the steps and shouted out:

〃Boys! BOYS!  What are you doin' there!  Come up on the steps immejitely!
Come away from them n…a…s…t…y things!〃

I will admit that we were not prepossessing in appearance; nor were we as
cleanly as young gentlemen should habitually be; in fact; I may as well
confess that I would not now; if I could help it; allow a tramp; as
dilapidated in raiment; as unwashed; unshorn; uncombed; and populous with
insects as we were; to come within several rods of me。  Nevertheless;
it was not pleasant to hear so accurate a description of our personal
appearance sent forth on the wings of the wind by a shrill…voiced Rebel
female。

A short march brought us to the place 〃they were fixing for us by the old
jail。〃  It was another pen; with high walls of thick pine plank; which
told us only too plainly how vain were our expectations of exchange。

When we were turned inside; and I realized that the gates of another
prison had closed upon me; hope forsook me。  I flung our odious little
possessions…our can; chess…board; overcoat; and blanket…upon the ground;
and; sitting down beside them; gave way to the bitterest despair。
I wanted to die; O; so badly。  Never in all my life had I desired
anything in the world so much as I did now to get out of it。  Had I had
pistol; knife; rope; or poison; I would have ended my prison life then
and there; and departed with the unceremoniousness of a French leave。
I remembered that I could get a quietus from a guard with very little
trouble; but I would not give one of the bitterly hated Rebels the
triumph of shooting me。  I longed to be another Samson; with the whole
Southern Confederacy gathered in another Temple of Dagon; that I might
pull down the supporting pillars; and die happy in slaying thousands of
my enemies。

While I was thus sinking deeper and deeper in the Slough of Despond; the
firing of a musket; and the shriek of the man who was struck; attracted
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