y
did their best, however, like Mark Tapley, to be "jolly under
unfavorable circumstances."

Nothing occurred out of the usual routine until the twenty-fourth of
January, when, as the prisoners, including Glazier, were singing "The
Star-Spangled Banner," "Rally Round the Flag, Boys," etc., the door
leading into the street was suddenly flung open, and a squad of armed
men filed in. Turner was at their head, and quickly crossing the room
and placing himself at the door leading up-stairs, to prevent any of the
prisoners from making their escape, began: "Now you d----d boisterous
scoundrels, I'll teach you to begin your d----d howling in this building
again. I want you to understand that you must not drive people crazy out
in the streets with your villainous Yankee songs." He then turned to his
men and ordered them to "Take their stations around the d----d rascals,
and shoot the first man that dared to stir out of his tracks." Having
completed which arrangement, he added to his helpless victims: "Now,
d--n you, stay here until twelve o'clock to-night, and make a bit of
noise or move from your place, if you dare." And he kept them there
until the appointed hour, standing and in silence. "The fires went out
early in the evening, and the cold became intense. Some managed to get
blankets from their friends," in the apartment above, "but the guards
soon put a stop to that. One man called down to a friend through a
knot-hole in the floor, asking him if he wanted a blanket. The guard
heard him, cocked his gun, and aimed at the hole; but a call from below
gave the man warning and he fled." And all this for singing a song
written by a Southerner, in praise of the flag under whose aegis Major
Turner was nurtured and received his military education! It is quite
possible that a song identified with the cause of their supposed enemy
might have produced a commotion among the ignorant rabble in the street,
and hence it is perhaps unfair to blame the commander of the prison for
prohibiting the loud singing, which partook somewhat of the nature of
defiance; but he could certainly have attained his object as effectually
in a manner becoming an officer and a gentleman. Even the victims of the
First French Revolution were permitted to express in song through the
bars of the Temple sentiments of utter scorn for their enemies, and
when the Jacobins in their turn marched to the guillotine they did so,
singing the "Marseillaise."

A great sensat