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326 bye, with the hope that I may, at some future time, renew the acquaintance under more auspicious surroundings.

On the 15th of September we embarked on the steamer John J. Tracy for Point Lookout—an extreme point of land, distant about seventy-five miles, and situated between the Chesapeake bay and the Potomac river, just opposite the Eastern shore of Maryland. Our number was about one hundred and sixty; consequently we were not much crowded, and the steamer was quite comfortable and clean, being one of the bay boats, and not a Government transport. One of our number, a Tennessean, died on the passage, and was buried in the bay. Weights were attached to his body, which was placed upon a plank, one end of which was raised, and the Confederate passed away. The solemn spectacle was witnessed by our men with much emotion. He had some friends, no doubt, who informed his command of his death. That night we lay upon the upper deck of the steamer, many of us thinking of the death of the stranger. Accustomed as we had become to death on the battlefield and in hospital, it had lost much of its dread; but this mode of burial was something new, and made a lasting impression upon us. I was somewhat surprised, next morning, to find myself addressed by one of the guard (Twenty-fifth New York artillery). He proved to be an old schoolmate of mine and a near neighbor who had been induced to take the oath on account of the drawing previously referred to. He remained North during the war, but not as a soldier, having been detected in some smuggling correspondence and thrown into prison. He visited his home at the close of the war, but soon enlisted in the United States army, and is now stationed in the far West. Upon arriving at Point Lookout, he gave me what money he had, and promised to aid me whenever he could; but he did not have an opportunity afterwards.

This camp had been but recently established, and there was not many prisoners here. They yelled to us to "grab your pocketbooks," as we came in sight. This referred to the strict search to to which all new comers were subjected, in which everything, even to a few Confederate dollars, was taken from you. It was labelled and put away, to be returned to you when you were leaving; but the valuables were never returned, as they could not be found. We were now regularly initiated as prisoners of war, and began to feel all the rigors and severities of such. We were divided into companies of one hundred men each, and were allowed for some time to draw and cook our own rations, each company sergeant being supplied with the necessary utensils. Soon, however, large numbers