An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge

by Ambrose Bierce

THE MILLENNIUM FULCRUM EDITION, 1988


I

A man stood upon a railroad bridge in northern Alabama, looking down into theswift water twenty feet below. The man’s hands were behind his back, thewrists bound with a cord. A rope closely encircled his neck. It was attached toa stout cross-timber above his head and the slack fell to the level of hisknees. Some loose boards laid upon the ties supporting the rails of the railwaysupplied a footing for him and his executioners—two private soldiers ofthe Federal army, directed by a sergeant who in civil life may have been adeputy sheriff. At a short remove upon the same temporary platform was anofficer in the uniform of his rank, armed. He was a captain. A sentinel at eachend of the bridge stood with his rifle in the position known as“support,” that is to say, vertical in front of the left shoulder,the hammer resting on the forearm thrown straight across the chest—aformal and unnatural position, enforcing an erect carriage of the body. It didnot appear to be the duty of these two men to know what was occurring at thecenter of the bridge; they merely blockaded the two ends of the foot plankingthat traversed it.

Beyond one of the sentinels nobody was in sight; the railroad ran straight awayinto a forest for a hundred yards, then, curving, was lost to view. Doubtlessthere was an outpost farther along. The other bank of the stream was openground—a gentle slope topped with a stockade of vertical tree trunks,loopholed for rifles, with a single embrasure through which protruded themuzzle of a brass cannon commanding the bridge. Midway up the slope between thebridge and fort were the spectators—a single company of infantry in line,at “parade rest,” the butts of their rifles on the ground, thebarrels inclining slightly backward against the right shoulder, the handscrossed upon the stock. A lieutenant stood at the right of the line, the pointof his sword upon the ground, his left hand resting upon his right. Exceptingthe group of four at the center of the bridge, not a man moved. The companyfaced the bridge, staring stonily, motionless. The sentinels, facing the banksof the stream, might have been statues to adorn the bridge. The captain stoodwith folded arms, silent, observing the work of his subordinates, but making nosign. Death is a dignitary who when he comes announced is to be received withformal manifestations of respect, even by those most familiar with him. In thecode of military etiquette silence and fixity are forms of deference.

The man who was engaged in being hanged was apparently about thirty-five yearsof age. He was a civilian, if one might judge from his habit, which was that ofa planter. His features were good—a straight nose, firm mouth, broadforehead, from which his long, dark hair was combed straight back, fallingbehind his ears to the collar of his well fitting frock coat. He wore amoustache and pointed beard, but no whiskers; his eyes were large and darkgray, and had a kindly expression which one would hardly have expected in onewhose neck was in the hemp. Evidently this was no vulgar assassin. The liberalmilitary code makes provision for hanging many kinds of persons, and gentlemenare not excluded.

The preparations being complete, the two private soldiers stepped aside andeach drew away the plank upon which he had been standing. The sergeant turnedto the captain, saluted and placed himself immediately behind that officer, whoin turn moved apart one pace. These movements left the condemned man and thesergeant standing on the two ends of the same plank, which spanned three of thecross-ties of the bridge. The end upon which the civilian stood almost, but notq

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