| From the Richmond Enquirer |
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| December 19, 1862 |
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| At the Depot |
| An hour and more
before the early morning train leaves the {Richmond
&} Petersburg depot, a crowd of citizens, and sick and
wounded soldiers cluster round the closed doors that lead into the
enclosure in which the coaches are sheltered, and from which they
start. There is nothing but the bare ground to stand or lie upon, and
nothing but the canopy of Heaven, often bleak and dark with clouds,
and still as often sending down its torrents of wintry rain and sleet,
to look upon above. Here they stand and shiver until within a few
minutes of the time of starting, when they rush pell mell around the
ticket office, and after struggles and squeezings indescribable,
finally gain access to the long-wished and dearly-bought comfort of
the cars. This may be system in the eyes of those who are responsible,
but to the view of all the rest of the world, and especially the
sufferers, it is as much like cruel indifference to the dictates of
common humanity as can well be conceived, even by those supposed to be
thoroughly versed in the duties of the charitable.
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