Among the many incidents of prison life at Point Lookout, Maryland, during my nine months incarceration there, I can recall some very amusing ones which the "boys" played upon each other. There were about 12,000 Confederates in the prison at the time, from all parts of the South, and the beach fronting on the Chesapeake Bay, where we were allowed to go in limited numbers during the day, presented quite an animated appearance with the "graybacks" sunning themselves, some washing their clothing, some bathing, some making bricks for the chimneys of little "cracker box" prison houses, and others fishing and crabbing.

Now there were many there who had never seen a crab; many who had seen salt water for the first time, and were enjoying, in open-mouthed wonder, the scene of ships plying the bay; particularly one verdant specimen from away back among the mountain districts of North Carolina, who approached a Georgian busily engaged in catching crabs, when the following conversation ensued:

says Tarheel: "Mister, what are you doing thar?"
"Catching sweet bugs" says Georgia.
"Sweet bugs" says Tarheel,"they are the biggest bugs I ever seed. What are you’uns going to do with ‘em? Will they bite?" approaching closer for a better examination.
"No!" answers the not very truthful representative from the "Goober" state, catching up the crab in a safe way for himself, for the poor Tarheel’s inspection.
"We sell them outside the prison to make cologne and sweet scented extracts. Come and smell this one" - a fine, large specimen he had just caught. 

Unfortunately Tarheel’s curiosity and innocence were so great that he was induced to do so, when the struggling crab caught him by the nose. It is scarcely necessary to add that a piercing "rebel yell" rent the air, which could be heard far away. Only those who have been bitten by a lively crab, freshly captured, can appreciate the poor fellow’s sufferings and his pitiful pleading to the Georgian to make him let go. Finally, becoming frenzied with pain, he yelled out "Mister! Mister! Make him let go or I’ll knock his brains out!" Finally the crab loosened his hold, and the poor Tarheel, who had doubtless bravely faced the music on many hard fought battlefields, hurried from the scene a sadder and wiser man.

Another incident or joke perpetrated upon a North Carolina sergeant who was himself a practical joker, occurred during the winter of ‘64 and will be remembered by many of those who were prisoners at that time, as the occurrence occasioned much excitement as well as amusement.

Tobacco was a very scarce and valuable article at Point Lookout, and happy was the individual fortunate enough to secure any. I have often seen men following a lucky chewer and waiting for him to finish his chew and beg it for himself. The poor fellows would daily hunt for the "old soldiers" as they termed discarded chews, and consider themselves lucky if they found one - a fact easily verified by any prisoner at the above-named place.

To retaliate upon Sergeant D_ for some joke of his, the following placard (as nearly as I can remember it) was written and posted conspicuously about the camp:

Notice, North Carolinians

The Governor of North Carolina having sent me twenty-five boxes of fine chewing tobacco for distribution among the troops from his State confined at Point Lookout, Maryland, all such will call at once at my quarters and obtain their share.

Sergeant D_, Co.H, 2d Division,
Prisoners’ Camp

The news soon spread like wildfire, and was not confined to Carolinians by any means, and very soon a large crowd, numbering at least 500 tobacco-starved graybacks, were clamoring and crowding excitedly about the tent of Sergeant D_, some of whom, in their disappointment, wanted "tobacco or blood". Finally the prison guards arrived on the scene and dispersed the poor disappointed fellows, and soon all was again quiet along the Potomac.

There are many sad memories connected with prison life and camp life which we gladly forget. Let us remember only those scenes on the bright side of the picture.