Visit us and Preach Excellent Discourses--Colonel
Smith's Personal Good Will to me--His Offer--John F. Ficklin's
Charity--My Good Fortune--Supplies of Clothing Distributed--Deaths
in Prison.

Union men never looked upon Confederates as mortal enemies. Whenever a
flag of truce was flying, both were disposed to shake hands and exchange
favors. I recollect that our Captain Burrage complained that he was
unfairly captured when he was engaged in a friendly deal with a
Confederate between the lines. At Port Hudson, when the white signal was
to go down, we gave the "Johnnies" fair warning, shouting, "RATS! TO
YOUR HOLES!" before we fired on them. But war cannot be conducted on
peace principles, and in a flash a man acts like a devil. In an open
window near the spot where I slept, an officer upset a cup of water, and
a few drops fell on the head of the guard outside. Instantly he fired.
The bullet missed, passed through the window below and the floor above,
and lodged in the hand or arm of another officer. I had an opportunity
to express to Colonel Smith my angry disgust at such savagery. He
agreed that the fellow ought to be punished--"at least for not being
able to shoot straighter!"[10]

Kindly visits were sometimes paid us. Two young men from the Richmond
Young Men's Christian Association came. The wicked said, "One came 'to
pray with us all right,' the other 'to prey upon us all wrong'"; for the
latter tried to induce us to exchange greenbacks for rebel currency!

Several times we were visited by kind clergymen who preached excellent
sermons. The first was Rev. ---- Dame of Danville. He was, I think, an
Episcopal minister. He was a high Mason, a gentleman of very striking
appearance, with a beautiful flowing beard, that would have done honor
to Moses or Aaron. As we sat on the hard floor, two hundred listening
reverently to his choice language, he seemed to foresee the doom which
many of us had begun to fear, and he very appropriately and with much
earnestness bade us consider our latter end. Mentioning his name with
gratitude some thirty years afterwards in a lecture at the Mountain Lake
Chautauqua, Md., one of my audience gave me a photograph of the
minister's handsome face, and told me he was greatly beloved. I doubt
not he deserved it.

Rev. Charles K. Hall of Danville, a Methodist Episcopal clergyman, came
to us a little later. His first sermon was an eloquent discourse on
Charity. He practiced what