cannot be disputed, was 15,000; the actual number was more like 18,000. To show how these 'extra' 10,000 to 12,000 suffering soldiers found shelter or relief means the unveiling of the most revolting picture of the siege. About half of these 'extra' cases were distributed _somewhere_ in the hospitals above mentioned, and the remainder were put in hastily-run-up sheds--little cemeteries of living beings. In these during the last month of the siege there were sometimes as many as a thousand sick men crowded together, under the charge of one medical man, often a surgeon, who could only be a helpless spectator of their sufferings. Just glance at one of these 'infernos' in the month of December. Outside it is freezing; inside, in spite of the musty and sickening stench, the cold is intense. On all sides is filth, nothing but filth, and on it and amongst it crawl millions of greasy grey lice. The silence is only broken by the sighs and groans of the sick and the hungry--for all in here are both sick and hungry. Death, the Liberator, is also here. He is in every corner, at the doors, at the windows, crawling along the floors and on to the bed-boards; he envelops everything--and waits. At the front a man dies suddenly, and all is over. In the hospitals Death is fought. But here, here, everything is in his power--he only has to wait. Second after second, minute after minute, hour after hour, men pass into eternity, into oblivion. There are hundreds of cases of scurvy. They lie side by side on the floor, on the bed-boards, underneath them, just as they were placed when they came in--some in great-coats, some in tunics, some in miserable boots, some barefooted. The faces are shapeless, swollen, and distorted, and upon the yellow skin are large dark blue bruises. The swollen gums, covered with hideous sores, project out of many grinning mouths, and show the lack of teeth, which are continuously falling out.... Here, far away from their friends and relations, forgotten by all, in horrible, complete consciousness, they are silently waiting the end. And to think that much of this suffering might have been spared these men had the Medical Service been properly organized, had the highest authorities done their duty, instead of busying themselves with writing orders. Things would not have been so bad even if Stössel had confirmed the resolution of the Council of War about the killing of horses on December 8. Feeding the garrison on horses' flesh and white bread would at once have checked the growth of disease; and there were more than 3,000 horses and 3,000,000 pounds of flour in the Fortress.