HOW AND WHERE I WAS CAPTURED.

In September, 1863, Major Stevens, of the 1st W. Va. Vol. Infantry, was occupying a position near Moorefield, Va., having six companies of his own regiment, two pieces of artillery, and Capt. A. J. Barr's company of cavalry (afterwards Company F, 22d Pa. Vol. Cav.). The Major had received information that a force of the enemy was approaching his post, and in order to secure as full intelligence as possible of location, number, etc., scouting squads were sent out on the different roads. Early on the morning of the 4th I was directed to take command of a squad and go out on a road which wound its way for several miles along the south fork of the Potomac river and which led to and through Brock's Gap. My party consisted of William Jenkins, John W. Manning, Abel Moore, John Penny, Corporal Samuel P. Hallam, myself (at this time a sergeant) in command. Just as daylight was breaking we reached a ford on the river, and on the opposite bank discovered a mounted sentinel or picket belonging to the enemy's force. Corporal Hallam was immediately sent back to camp, to report the fact to the Major, and in the hope that we could capture this man on the outpost, or some of the reserve, which must be near at hand, we dashed across the river, and paying no heed to the shot he fired at us spurred forward in hot pursuit as he withdrew. The shooting warned his friends at the reserve post, and when we came upon their position they were mounted and in full retreat. They greeted us with a volley as they abandoned their post, but we kept up the pursuit until we drove them into camp. Here we found their whole force, having been alarmed at the firing, falling into line and in much confusion. We wheeled about and got back across the river, and then feeling pretty secure leisurely retired. A force of the enemy soon appeared at the ford, but as they did not rush us we fell back in good order. Just as we were beginning to feel that we would soon be near or in our own camp we met a company of Confederate cavalry coming from that direction. This proved to be McNeill's company of rangers under command of Lieut. Jesse McNeill. Now, being caught between this force in front and the one pursuing there was no possibility of escape. They closed up on us from both directions, and in the midst of such a demonstration as only such conditions could bring about they soon had the little squad unhorsed. Two horses shot and Jenkins and Moore wounded were the only casualties. This incident was one of the strange freaks of the fortunes of war. Instead of capturing one or two of the rebels, as we hoped, we, ourselves, fell into their hands. We were taken to Richmond, Va., and put into Libby Prison, where we remained for two or three weeks, then placed on Belle Island. In a stockade on this bare island we remained during that cold winter of 1863-64, scantily clothed and without other shelter from the chilling winds which swept over the island. Three of this party lived to get back to the North—Hallam, who got through with his message in the morning, but was captured later the same day; John W. Manning, who was fortunate enough to be included with a few hundred that were exchanged in April, 1864, and myself, escaped in March, 1864. Hallam had a long and terrible experience in different prison pens in the South. He was longest at Andersonville, and strange to relate, lived through more than a year of privation and suffering at that place. He was released by Gen. Sherman's army at the close of the war.