Major A. W. Wakefield, 49th Pa. Cav., was robbed of hat, blanket, and $100 in money. Adjt. J. A. Clark, 17th Pa. Cav., was robbed of cap, boots, mug, pocket-book and money. Lieut. Harrison, 2d Regular Cav., was robbed of gold watch and money. Capt. John R. Rouzer, 6th Md. Inf., was robbed by an officer of hat and $20 in money. Lieut. Wesley C. Howe, 2d Mass. Cav., who recently died at Kansas City, Mo., was robbed by Lieut. Housel of the 6th Va. Cav., of silver watch, spurs, gloves, and $10 in money. Major August Haurand, 4th N. Y. Cav., was robbed of a watch and $60 in money. It was a common practice to snatch from a Union prisoner his cap, and clap on in lieu of it a worn-out slouched hat; pull off his boots, and substitute a pair of clumsy old shoes. The plundering was so thoroughly done that it was poetically termed "going through" a captive! As I was the senior officer among the prisoners, and we seemed likely to remain a long time there, I went to the Confederate commander and besought him to allow our three hundred prisoners to occupy a barn near by. He refused. I then asked that we be allowed to build wigwams for shelter, as there was abundant material at hand. This too was not permitted. I also begged in vain that a surgeon should be got to dress the wounds of some of the prisoners. The second morning after our arrival, the sleeping men were aroused by the loud voice of Lieutenant Sargent of the 14th New Hampshire Regiment exclaiming: "If you give me any more of your lip, I'll annihilate you! I've but one arm" (his right arm was disabled by a shot), "but even with one arm I'll annihilate you on the spot, if you give me any more of your lip!" This was exceedingly gratifying, for it proved that at least two of us were not yet "annihilated!" During our sojourn at Tom's Brook the Confederates labored hard to induce us to exchange our greenbacks for their paper currency. Our own was sadly depreciated, one dollar of silver or gold being equal to two of greenbacks; but one in United States paper was equal in purchasing power to eight of theirs. They argued that our money would certainly be forcibly taken from us by rapacious guards farther south, and kindly offered us four for one. Sergeant Reed of the Provost Guard was quite a character. Like Gratiano in _The Merchant of Venice_, he talked loud and long, speaking "an infinite deal of nothing." He had a mania for watches. He told me he now had twenty-seven which he had obtained from Yankee prisoners, always paying them in good Confederate money. He set his heart upon a little silver watch of mine, which he said he wished to buy and present to one of his lady admirers. I asked: "Why do they admire you?" "Because of my bravery," he replied; "none but the brave deserve the fair." "If you are so brave, why are you back here? Why are you not at the front?"