From the National Tribune, 1/23/1896
Will Now Forgive the Thief.
Comrade C. F. Smith, Sergeant, Co. E, 2d Mich., Forrest,
Ont., says: “While confined in Libby Prison, in January, 1865, in the coldest
of the Winter, our Government issued us one blanket apiece. I had been for
several days and nights nearly frozen. All who were confined in Libby will
remember how we had to run and walk nearly all night to keep from freezing. But
what I want to get at is this: I had my quarters just at the head of the stairs
on the second floor, to the left of the building. We had just drawn our blankets
– myself and another prisoner (I do not remember who he was) bunked together.
We had just lain down on his blanket, with mine over us, and fallen into a
comfortable sleep, when I was suddenly awakened by someone pulling off my
blanket. I grabbed for it, but not being fully awakened, I missed it. Someone
had crept up the stairs from below and stolen it.
“I have never forgiven the thief yet. We each had a
blanket, which was enough, under the circumstances. He would have two, and he
knew I would have none. Now, for 30 years I have wished him all kinds of bad
luck.
“If he is alive, and will write me, I will write him and
forgive him, although it is hard for me to do so. I am still one of the boys,
but instead of a 90-pound boy, I am a good 205.”
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