sill, sat down and looked at it, then ate a little more and a little more, until all was gone, and I was as hungry as before.
The next day some negroes came in to swab the floor, and among them we of the 19th recognized little Johnnie, Colonel Devereaux
We had left him at White House Landing
, sick with fever, when we started on the retreat down the Peninsula
in the spring of 1862, and supposed he died in the hospital, but he must have been captured, as here he was. I was near enough to whisper “Johnnie.”
He recognized me and also saw Lieutenant McGinnis
, but said nothing.
The next day when he came in he dropped some soap near where I stood.
He looked as though he was having a hard time of it.
Our enlisted men were not confined in Libby
but in an old tobacco warehouse across the street.
Three days later we saw them march past on their way to Belle Isle
We watched our chances and exchanged greetings with them.
The lines between officers and men in the 19th were not closely drawn.
Most of the officers had come from the ranks and the only difference was in the pay. We would have been glad to have remained with them, but the rebels ordered otherwise.
We remained in Libby
about a week, receiving reenforcements nearly every day, until our squad of officers numbered over a hundred. One morning we were ordered to fall in. The same old blankets were given us, dirty and torn, but better than none.
We were told that we were going south.
A very small loaf of white bread was given each man, but having no way to carry it and being very hungry, we ate it before we left the prison.
We filed out and marched past Castle Thunder.
This place was used for the confinement of