on.

"The general appearance of the crowd of captives was, I must confess,
far from prepossessing. They were very dirty, very dusty and worn
out, as I myself was probably, and no wonder; the floor was several
inches thick in dust, no straw was attainable, and washing was
impossible. I gained some comparative comfort by gathering up dust
in a handkerchief and making a cushion of it. Thursday, June 1,
dragged on as miserably as its predecessor, the only event being
the visit of a deputy, which gave rise to great anticipations, as
he said, in my hearing, that our condition was disgraceful, and
that straw and a small portion of soup ought to be allowed us.

"The terrible scenes and sufferings we had gone through had deprived
many of our number of their reason. Some of the madmen were dangerous,
and made attempts to take the lives of their companions; others
did nothing but shout and scream day and night. The second night
we passed in the _orangerie_ the Englishman and I thought we had
secured a place where we might lie down and sleep in the side gallery;
but at midnight we were attacked by one of the most dangerous of
the madmen. It was useless to hope to find any other place to lie
down in, and we had no more rest that night, for several maniacs
persisted in following us wherever we went, and would allow us
no repose. I counted that night forty-four men bereft of reason
wandering about and attacking others, as they had done ourselves.

"The next day we found ourselves at last in the ranks of those
who were to leave the _orangerie_. Our names were inscribed at
eleven o'clock, and we stood in rank till seven in the evening,
afraid to lose our places if we stirred. What our destination might
be, was to us unknown; but there was not a man who was not glad
to quit the place where we had suffered such misery."

Their destination proved to be Brest, which they reached at midnight
of the next day, after travelling in cattle-cars for about thirty
hours. They were transferred at once to a hulk lying in the harbor,
clean shirts and water to wash with were given them, which seemed
positive luxuries. Their treatment was not bad; they had hammocks
to sleep in, and permission to smoke on deck every other day. But
the sufferings they had gone through, and the terribly foul air of
the _orangerie_, had so broken them down that most of them were
stricken by a kind of jail-fever. Many, without warning, would
drop down as if in a fit, and