Even women and young girls came from distances to view the spectacle. They
climbed the parapets of the earthworks, and gloated and made merry over
the scene of suffering. They threw crusts of bread over the palisades to
see the starving wretches struggle for the morsel of life.
They even reviled the condition of the dying. This surpasses the ferocity,
the depravity, the wickedness of gladiatorial times. "The fury of women
when once excited," says the French historian, "soon rises to profanation
and excess." When the love of humanity vanishes from our breasts, it is
the death of nature.
There were, however, a few noble exceptions to those strange acts of
delight in cruelty; and the deeds of kindness of a few women in other
parts of the South shine with increased brilliancy from the terrible
contrast.