English Diary 2

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8th. Great number of the prisoners sick with rheumatism, diarrhoea, scurvy and a great many are carried off. The hospital was removed outside of the stockade today to make room for more prisoners. The stream of water that passes through here runs from west to east, dividing the camp into two equal parts. The rebel camps are north and south of this stream, with breastworks and battery of artillery on each corner, south and east are the cook houses and west of all is the railroad depot, about three-fourths of a mile away. The rebels wash their clothing and themselves in this stream, horses and mules are driven into it to drink, buckets, tubs and kettles belonging to the rebel camp and cook houses are washed here, and all the filth of the camps thrown into it; and then it runs through to us. We have to use it, although it is literally alive with vermin and filth of all kinds. If our friends could see us! I know it would make many weep to see the thousands of their fellows who only a short time ago held their heads high in honor and pride, keeping step to the soul-stirring martial music, now rotting in filth and apparently forgotten by their government. Just think of it! Seventy-five deaths have occurred in the last 24 hours. At that rate it will not be long until we are all gone. There are about eighteen thousand prisoners here now and more coming in all the time; one shot by the guard today.

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12th. Have not written in my diary the last three days. During that time three hundred prisoners died. Rations for the last week very fair — corn cob meal and a little over a half-pound of beef.

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13th. Getting quite warm, which occasions a great many deaths.

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14th. More prisoners made their escape last night. It is said they dug a hole under the stockade and got out that way. Captain Wirz is wild; says his hounds will make short work of them.

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15th. Some more prisoners came in today. I did not learn where they are from, but, judging from their appearance, they have been captured recently. They have overcoats and blankets.

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16th. Wirz gave orders to the guards that if any prisoner approaches the dead-line, shoot him on the spot, and if a crowd congregates near the entrance, for the artillery to open fire on them.

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17th. Learned today that Sergeant Hope of Co. C, 13th, my regiment, died in Richmond. A number of boxes came today. Some of the prisoners are dissatisfied with their friends at home for their seeming forgetfulness.

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18th. About five hundred more prisoners came in today from Cahaba, Alabama. Bernard Tolen, Co. D, died today.

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19th Over a hundred deaths the last two days. Corn meal and bacon - a good change.

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21st. Nothing to write yesterday. More boxes for prisoners today. Some of the boys are getting the boxes which were sent to their comrades who are now dead. Rebels report through camp that United States transports are at Savannah to take away three thousand prisoners, but we have been fooled too often to credit the report.

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22d. Five hundred more prisoners came in this morning, being a part of those captured at Plymouth, N. C.

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28th. Nothing to write lately. One thousand more prisoners have arrived from Plymouth the last day or two. We are getting very much crowded. A prisoner shot this morning for crossing the dead-line to get a piece of bread. There is a little railing around the stockade and about fifteen feet from it, and the prisoners are forbidden going inside this space, to prevent any meddling with the stockade, guards being posted on top.

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29th. About a thousand new prisoners came in today. They were horrified to see the condition of things. I got a bag from one of the guards today while out after wood. I gave him a Testament which one of the new prisoners had given me, for it. I am going to make a shirt of it. Some of the prisoners made their escape last night through a small tunnel under the stockade.

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30th. They say we are going to get cooked rations soon. I hope we do, as wood and cooking utensils are scarce. We cook cakes on boards and then lay them in the sun until the water dries out of them.

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May 1st. Sunday rations — corn meal, rice and molasses. Fights all the time, day and night.

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2d. Pint of cooked rice and a gill of molasses for the next twenty-four hours. Will have my shirt finished today.

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4th. Six men shot within the last week. A Yankee made believe he was dead last night, and allowed himself to be carried out to the dead-house on a stretcher, and was laid alongside the dead. I hope the fellow will get inside our lines, but very few escape the bloodhounds.

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7th. Rained hard last night and is still raining. Our drinking water is thick with mud and filth. I sometimes think everything is coming on us to hurry us off, Well, probably the sooner out of such misery the better, but I will keep up as long as there is a spark of life left in me. A great many get discouraged and die when they could prolong their lives with a little courage. But it is only a matter of time, as six months is considered a prisoner's life in a Confederate prison, although it has been eight months since I was captured. I am a mere skeleton.

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8th. Received a pound of bread today, the first we have had since we came here, three ounces of beef, and a bucketful of rice to be divided among ninety men. How we wretches enjoyed it! The bread was made of yellow meal and somewhat resembled fruit cake the flies taking the place of the raisins. Nearly all the old prisoners now have scurvy, the gums turning black and swelling bevond the teeth, and pouching out the cheek; the teeth become loose and drop out. The mouth becomes cancerous and the patient lingers and dies. In others the limbs turn black and swell to the greatest capacity of the skin, black watery sores open, gangrene sets in, and death shortly follows. The whole prison was a hell of torture and insanity. You could hear praying and groaning mingled with the laugh of the lunatic and cursing. The sun is growing hotter and the raiders bolder. The guards are more numerous, the stocks more terrible and the chain-gangs are full of victims. The ground swarms with all kinds of vermin, and millions upon millions of mosquitoes come from the surrounding swamps to feast on our emaciated bodies; their buzzing hum adds to the bedlam of the prison, and with the hooting of the owls and the mournful notes of the whip-poor-wills, howled a requiem, broken only by the crack of the muskets of the murderous guards, or the sounds of their voices as they cry out the hour of the night from their perches on the stockade. I have lain on the battle-field in the solemn hours of the night, surrounded with dead and dying and listening to the piteous, agonizing cries of the wounded, but it is nothing compared to this den of misery and woe, the memory of which will be ever present to those who experienced it. Nearly one-half of the old prisoners are dead and nearly all of those living are prostrated with scurvy and gangrene. There is a place outside the stockade where; some of the sick are taken, but they are so poisoned by the stench of the prison, that nearly all die. Unless one was there, it is hard for the mind to grasp the magnitude of this hell on earth. There are nearly 30,000 young men who had been pronounced sound and healthy and the best material in the land, condemned to this hell of torture and misery. There seems to be no relief; we must rot in this living grave. The raiders are having everything their own way; it is a common thing to find dead men in the morning with throats cut or heads crushed in. The raiders got so bold that gangs of them go about in daylight and rob by the wholesale; great talk of organizing the prisoners into regulars or prison police.

bedlam - a scene of uproar and confusion

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9th. Eighteen prisoners brought in today from Sherman's army. They bring good news as to the movement of our troops. They say our forces captured four thousand rebels the day they were captured.