On the steamer, coming down, I had a long chat with one of the batch of prisoners we were taking along. He was a native of Alexandria, and on the way down the river he pointed out the places where he had been for a good time before the war. We had been in the same fights, quite a number, and it was very interesting to compare notes. The day we left Washington I was on guard at the gate, and there was a flock of secesh women there to bid good bye to friends and give them things to eat or wear. Among the prisoners was an Irishman who formerly lived in Manchester. I recognized him as soon as I saw him. He was down south when the war broke out, and was forced into the army. He fell out on the march on purpose to be taken and is very anxious to take the oath of allegiance, as are many others, especially the foreigners.
CIII
Point Lookout, Md., August 4, 1863.
THIS forenoon “Curley” Converse and I went out to a creek near camp, hunting for oysters. We found and shucked till we had three pints of solid meats. There were lots of crabs there, some almost as big as lobsters, and I soon found out that a crab is a very pugnacious animal. I ran across one in shoal water hardly deep enough to cover my feet, and playfully tapped him with my knife, just to see him run. He ran. So did I, for I was barefooted and he made straight for my toes, with the water boiling. Soon I encountered another, and just to make sure, I rapped him. He came on like the other; but there was no surprise this time, and I speared him with my knife. The boys bring in bushels of them, and they are excellent eating—as good as lobsters.
George Slade has not been with us for some time, but we expect he will join us soon. [We did not know it then, but he was in fact a prisoner, having been picked up by the rebels somewhere below Harper’s Ferry. He never got back to the regiment, but died at Camp Parole.]
CIV
Point Lookout, Md., August 8, 1863.