We remained at Staunton two or three days, when they marched us to the railroad station and packed some five hundred of us so closely into boxcars that we could scarcely raise our arms. A guard stood at each door ready to shoot or bayonet the first man who should attempt to escape. After proceeding some distance they stopped the train in a long tunnel, owing to an accident ahead. We were in this dungeon nearly two hours. Meanwhile many of the men got out of the cars stealthily, and creeping alongside, and underneath them, secured whatever missiles they could lay hands on, and then returned to the inside. When the train got under way, bang! bang! bang! would go the stones, taking off boards from the sides of the car, and the guard would fire at random in the direction of the sound. Two or three men were wounded, but not mortally. When the train reached Richmond, which was early in the morning, there was not a whole box-car remaining, all having been more or less staved outward to obtain fresh air.
At Richmond they guarded us on the train some three or four hours, not allowing us to get off to obtain water to quench our thirst. Next we were ordered into line, where—weak as many were, so weak that their stronger comrades were obliged to give support, for not a man could leave the ranks
