English Diary 2

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7th. Nothing new today; there is a stench of things rotting in the heat.

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8th. The hounds tracked the men who got out, and one fellow was torn so badly that he cannot live; the number of deaths is running up; about two hundred die each day; I will try and keep up my courage and trust in God to get me out of this place.

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9th. Nothing of interest in the last day or so. Thomas Kelly of Co. H died this morning, the sun is a regular furnace. An order was read to us this morning stating that a general exchange of prisoners was to take place.

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12th. Ten months a prisoner today and what a change!

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13th. It still keeps hot and deaths are increasing in an alarming manner; ten detachments, or about a thousand prisoners are to leave here today for the point of exchange, so the rebels say.

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14th. About twenty-five hundred left today.

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15th. Between three and four thousand prisoners sent off today.

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16th. A prisoner had his leg amputated today at the thigh; this is the third time for him, first at the foot, then at the knee and now half way up his thigh; he sat and held his own leg while they sawed it off.

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17th. No prisoners left here yesterday or today, Alfred Friend, Co. F, 12th. N. Y. C, has just informed me that he is the only man alive out of 53 of his regiment.

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24th. Had to give up writing at last, as I am completely used up with rheumatism.

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28th. Guess my time has come; I was taken to the hospital this morning and put in a tent with ten more sick.

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September 16, 1864. Have been in here over two weeks; the doctor says I will pull through all right; I can't hear any news to put in my diary.

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18th. The doctor wanted to know this afternoon if I got my medicine; I told him that what I wanted was something to eat, instead of medicine.

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24th. The doctor told me that upwards of twelve thousand prisoners have died since we came here.

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28th. One month in the hospital today, but do not seem to improve; our rations are a little better here than in the pen.

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30th. Six men died in this tent since I came here; they say they are dying very fast.

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October 6, 1864. Father Hamilton, a Catholic priest, paid a visit to our tent today; he is a very fine old gentleman, and seemed to take considerable interest in me; he said he would call again tomorrow.

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7th, Father Hamilton called on me again this morning; he says that he is going to attend to the sick at this place, the most of whom are Catholics. He was surprised when I told him I came from "the old sod" and could read Latin; he thought I was too young to be in the army.

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8th. A little better this morning; Father Hamilton and two Sisters of Charity called on me today and gave me something nice to eat.

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9th. I turned on my bed of straw this morning and found that the man next to me was dead; this makes seven out of eleven.