The grave charge of insubordination and attempting to strike the guard was proffered.  Major Bach listened closely and when he had heard the story, which needless to say was somewhat freely embroidered, curtly sentenced the Zouave to “four hours at the post!” This was the first occasion upon which we had heard of this punishment and naturally we were somewhat agog with curiosity to discover the character of this latest means of dealing out correction.

Escorted by four guards with loaded rifles and fixed bayonets, the unhappy Zouave was led to a post just outside our barrack.  One of the soldiers stood on either side of the prisoner ready to run him through should he make an attempt to escape or to resist.  The other two guards, discarding their rifles, uncoiled a length of rope which they were carrying.

The prisoner’s hands were forced behind his back and his wrists were tied tightly together, the rope being drawn so taut as to cut deeply into the flesh and to cause the unhappy wretch to shriek.  He was now backed against the post round which the rope was passed.  His ankles were then tied as tightly as his wrists and also strapped to the post, which action drew another yell of pain from the victim.  Finally another length of the rope was passed round the upper part of his body, lashing him firmly to the support to prevent him falling forward.

Trussed and tied the unhappy prisoner was left to undergo his four hours’ sentence of this ordeal.  The soldiers returned to their quarters, but as a preliminary precaution, as we were undeniably showing signs of resentment against such torturing treatment, we were bustled into our barracks.  But we could not rest or sleep.  The hapless man at the stake was being racked and torn with pain.  His shrieks, moans, and groans, echoing and re-echoing through the still hours of the summer evening, sounded so weird, uncanny, and nerve-racking as to make our blood run cold.  At each outburst we shivered and strove hard, though vainly, to shut out the terrible sounds from our ears.

After the Zouave had been strung up for some time I decided to creep out and up to him to ascertain from direct close observation the effects of this treatment upon the victim.  Stealing out of the barracks, thereby running the risk of encountering a bullet from the sentry’s rifle, I stealthily made my way to the post.  By the time I gained the spot the weak wretch was in a fearful plight.  The ropes had been drawn so tightly round his wrists and ankles as to cause the circulation of the blood through the hands and feet to cease, while the flesh immediately above the knots was swelling up in a fearful manner.  All sense of feeling in the hands and feet having gone, the man was hanging limply, instead of standing against the post.  He writhed and twisted in frenzied efforts to secure some relief while in this uncomfortable position, but each movement only caused further pain and the unintentional utterance of piercing shrieks.  Upon the exhaustion of this spasm the upper part of his body dropped forward slightly so that his head fell down upon his chest.