dark, and from the distance we had covered from
the time we started, it seemed to us that we must be very near the city.
Finally we turned to the left and moved toward the James river, in a
southeasterly direction from Richmond.

As we had no sleep the night before, but rode all night, and now were
walking all night in the rain and mud, and without food, you may know we
were in a wretched condition. Every now and then a friendly Yank would
hand us a cracker from his haversack, saying, "Here, Johnnie." But they
were on short rations themselves, and could not help us much in that
respect.

The next day we were in constant peril from the shells thrown from the
Confederate batteries, that seemed to come in every direction. In fact,
Sheridan was completely surrounded, except on one side, and his
progress was stopped there by the Chickahominy river.

This is a slow, marshy river, crossed by two or three bridges. The chief
one had been destroyed by the Confederates. Sheridan was in close
quarters, and we prisoners had made up our minds that he would have to
surrender his army.

We got so bold and impudent that we hailed Yankee officers as they
passed us, and said, "Hey there, Mr. Yank, I speak for that horse."

Among these officers so hailed was a red-headed major, who was in
command of our guard. Prior to this, he had been very surly and
exceedingly gruff and harsh. So much so, that the prisoners had
whispered among themselves that if we did get him in our hands we'd make
him sweat, and when it became evident not only to us, but to the enemy,
that they were in danger of capture, this particular officer changed his
attitude toward us very perceptibly. He took our jeers and taunts
without a word, and, luckily for us, about this time he was relieved of
his position, and another put in his place. Perhaps he had asked for it,
knowing that he wouldn't receive very kind treatment if he fell into
our hands.

But, oh, the irony of Fate. On a hill fronting the river (not far from
the bridge) was an old Virginia mansion. The prisoners were led to this
house and ordered to tear it down and carry the timbers to the river and
rebuild the bridge. What do you think of that? Of course, we had to
obey, but we made loud complaints, and while we were carrying this
timber and rebuilding the bridge, our enemy was protecting us, from
their standpoint (as far as they could), by keeping back the
Confederates, who were pouring shot and shell i