Such was life in this prison, kept by people who prided themselves on their "chivalry." God save the mark!
The month of March dragged slowly along. The commissary boxes which had been sent to us from the north were in sight, but we were never allowed to touch their contents, our only ration still consisting of the one chunk of corn bread daily.
April came, and every day the cry was "Bread! bread! bread!" not only in the prison but also on the streets.
Bread riots were reported to us as having occurred even in the city.
Toward the last of April I was approached by an officer of high rank, who asked if I was "anxious to be exchanged?" Of course I was! I replied, my hopes going up.
He then told me they wanted to send a message north to headquarters at Washington, and I might carry it if they could effect my exchange. The message was that Longstreet's army from Knoxville, Tennessee, about forty thousand strong, had just passed through Lynchburg, going north to join Lee in Northern Virginia; and that Beauregard's army had passed through Petersburg, going north on the same mission, with about thirty thousand men. The message was to be enclosed in a brass button, and they were in hopes they might get me through the lines, as I was in poor health.
The application was made, but alas for the hopes of a prisoner in the hands of rebel captors! I never heard anything further of the proposition, and again settled down to wait some new disappointment.
The first of May came, that day of so many bright memories in my northern home. The city of Richmond was all excitement; old men and small boys could be seen going down Franklin Street with old muskets and clean new white haversacks; and the rebs commenced to issue to us our long-looked-for boxes. Once more hopes of a change for the better took possession of us, and it seemed as if they could not deliver us our boxes fast enough. Negroes would carry them over to the lower middle room and then the roll would be called.
When my name was finally reached I seized my blanket and quilt and got a couple of friends to go with me to the room, where a good large box was waiting to be receipted for. They opened the box, while I spread both blanket and quilt on the floor in great excitement and feverish expectation. They emptied the contents upon my receptacles; next a couple of rebs sat down, each armed with a marline spike made for the purpose, and began overhauling and searching the contents. The salt, sugar, coffee and pepper were scattered all over everything; they reached a roll of butter—think of it, a roll of butter!—and in that the spike struck something hard, upon examination of which they found to be a small glass vial in which had been placed a ten-dollar greenback. No sooner had they laid eyes upon that ten than they appropriated it to their own use. The despised Uncle Sam's money was a very Godsend to them, the cowardly robbers. It is needless to say that I never saw the ten-dollar greenback again. I was permitted to lug my blanket and quilt, with what motley stuff they contained, upstairs, and I studied for some time how to separate the sugar from the sausage, and the salt from the coffee, and I must confess it required some brainwork to so arrange my provender as to make any part of it palatable. Still I finally concluded that I was a lucky man to be even permitted to look upon the relics of the good things that my friends in the north had taken so much pains to send me, and I said again, "How grand it is to be among a chivalric people." On the morning of the fifth the old negro who distributed the morning papers down Franklin Street was heard to cry: "A Great Battle on the Rapidan! Great News from the Rapidan! Full Account of the Battle of the Rapidan!"
My! what an effect this had upon us captives. Our boxes came in thicker and faster until finally old Libby looked like a great storehouse or supply depot, and once more our expectations were raised to a fever heat, only to have them again dashed below the zero mark.