Arrival in Richmond.
At 5 o'clock on the morning of Saturday, May 16th, we reached Richmond. At that early hour, the clothing-dépôt of the Confederate government was surrounded by a crowd of poor, ill-clad women, seeking work.
We were marched to the Libby Prison. Up to this time we had never been searched. I had even kept my revolver in my pocket until reaching Jackson, Mississippi, where, knowing I could not much longer conceal it, I gave it to a friend. Now a Rebel sergeant carefully examined our clothing. All money, except a few dollars, was taken from us, and the flippant little prison clerk, named Ross, with some inquiries not altogether affectionate concerning the health of Mr. Greeley, gave us receipts.
As we passed through the guarded iron gateway, I glanced instinctively above the portal in search of its fitting legend:—
"Abandon all hope who enter here."
Up three flights of stairs, we were escorted into a room, fifty feet by one hundred and twenty-five, filled with officers lying in blankets upon the floor and upon rude bunks. Some shouted, "More Yankees!—more Yankees!" while many crowded about us to hear our story, and learn the news from the West.
Incarcerated in Libby Prison.
We soon found friends, and became domesticated in our novel quarters. With the American tendency toward organization, the prisoners divided into companies of four each. Our journalistic trio and Captain Ward ceased to be individuals, becoming merely "Mess Number Twenty-one."
The provisions, at this time consisting of good flour, bread, and salt pork, were brought into the room in bulk. A commissary, elected by the captives from their own number, divided them, delivering its quota to each mess.