utter and
base treachery of the spying and informing villain were obtained.

There is a reason why the name of this wretch should not be given here.
Enough know of his crime to damn him forever in the estimation of all
honorable men, and gallant and devoted men, than whom no truer gentlemen
and braver soldiers served under the Confederate banner, bear the same
name. His relatives (who fought throughout the war and quit with records
upon which there are no stains), must not see the name (which they made
honorable), associated with his shame.

Search was at once made for the knives which the prisoners had obtained
and for other evidence which might corroborate the informer's report.
Fifteen knives had been introduced into the hall, and were in the hands
of as many prisoners. The search was inaugurated secretly and conducted
as quietly as possible, during the time that the prisoners were locked
in the cells, but information was gotten along the ranges that it was
going on, and only seven knives were discovered. The remaining eight
were hidden, so ingeniously, that, notwithstanding the strict hunt after
every thing of the kind, they were not found. Merion's fury at the idea
of any danger threatening him was like that of some great cowardly beast
which smells blood and is driven mad with fear. All of the party were at
once closely confined again, and the seven who were detected with the
knives, were sent to the dungeons, where they were kept seven days,
until the surgeon declared that a longer stay would kill them.

They passed the period of their confinement in almost constant motion
(such as the limits of the cell would permit), and said that they had no
recollection of having slept during the whole time. When they came out
they were almost blind and could scarcely drag themselves along.

One of the party, Captain Barton, was so affected, that the blood
streamed from under his finger nails. When I returned (after a month
passed at Camp Chase), I was startled by the appearance of those, even,
who had not been subjected to punishment in the dungeon. They had the
wild, squalid look and feverish eager impression of eye which lunatics
have after long confinement.

At last, in March 1864, all were removed to Fort Delaware, and the
change was as if living men, long buried in subterranean vaults, had
been restored to upper earth. About the same time one hundred and ten
officers of Morgan's division, who had been confined in t