Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Documents and Narratives, Volume 7.
Frank Moore, Ed.

Sept. 29.--Dr. Hamilton told us this morning that arrangements had been made to send us all through our lines. We drew rations to-day.

Sept. 30.--To-day the boys are trading their pocket-knives and every thing they can for rations. There is scarcely five dollars among us. The miserable thieves robbed us of every thing we had. To-day has been a day of intense suffering among our men. It has rained all day, and we have no shelter.

Oct. 1.--It rained all night last night. We look like a set of drowned rats. Some of the boys are very sick; many must die with such treatment. The sergeant of the guard procured a tent for eight of us. Dr. Story does all he can for us. We drew our pittance of corn-meal to-day.

Oct. 2.--We expect to leave here to-day. I sincerely hope we will. I long to be in God's country once more, and behold the good old flag again. The lice and filth here are intolerable.

Oct. 3.--No signs of leaving yet. Dr. Story is doing his best to make us comfortable, but we have no bandages to dress our wounds with. Two deaths to-day.

Oct. 4.--To-day is very cold. We have no blankets, hence there is a great deal of suffering from cold. Our rations have ran out, and taking all things into consideration, it would be hard to embitter our condition.

Oct. 5.--Heavy cannonading has been going on in the front all day. The rebels say they are shelling Chattanooga. We learned to-day that the armistice was over, and that we would have to take a trip to Richmond. The trip will doubtless kill quite a number of us. We got our mush to-day. Intense suffering from cold nights.

Oct. 6.--We expected to leave here to-day for Atlanta, but for some reason the ambulances have not come. All we have to eat is mush, with little or no salt in it. Many are suffering from diarrhoea.

Oct 7.--To-day we drew rations of flour. Captain Foster, Forty-second Illinois, is baking bread. One of our men died to-day. We have lost fourteen by death since we came here.

Oct. 8.--At nine A. M. this morning we were stowed in lumber-wagons and hauled to Ringgold, a distance of eight miles, over the roughest road I ever travelled. Many of the men were so sick that they could not raise their heads.

Oct. 9.--Last night they put one hundred and eighty of us into box-cars and brought us to Dalton, where we stopped for the night. We had to sleep in the cars, and they gave us no supper. The night was very cold. It was heartrending to witness the suffering among the sick and wounded. This morning we left for Dalton without breakfast, and arrived at Atlanta, Ga., at six A. M. We were then taken to a military prison, where we now lie upon the ground with no shelter and no fires. Our wounds have not been dressed for three days; the stench is awful.

Oct. 10.--We are under the charge of our own doctors here, but the rebels won't furnish bandages to dress the wounds. I never suffered so from hunger in all my life. They have been promising us rations all day, and now they tell us they will be here early in the morning. The boys are selling their rings and every thing they have for something to eat.

Oct. 11.--We are a little more comfortable today; the surgeons have amputated several limbs and dressed all the wounds. One man died this morning. On the seventh instant, one of our men was shot by the guard for going too near the fence. One of our officers is here, carrying around a thirty-two pound ball and chain; several of the men are handcuffed.

Oct. 12.--Two men died last night. The wounded are doing pretty well under the treatment of our surgeons. We get a little better rations, but not half enough. Later: All the wounded that were able, were taken out of prison and put in tents; things are much more comfortable here.

Oct. 13.--This morning the names of all those who are able to travel were taken. We start for Richmond to-morrow. We drew five days rations to-night--ten crackers and half a pound of pork to the man.

Oct. 14.--At two A. M. we fell in and marched down to the depot, a distance of one mile; many of us had to go on crutches. There were over two hundred of us, and we were put into five box-cars. Only those who experienced it know how we suffered on the train. For eight days we were jammed up in these cars. One of our number died, and we had to leave several at hospitals on the road. Our five days rations lasted only two, and those who had no money had to share with the rest. Bread was a dollar a loaf, and pies sold as high as two dollars. The fifteenth, sixteenth, seventeenth, eighteenth, nineteenth, and twentieth were spent on the cars.

Oct. 21.--Arrived at Richmond and were put in Libby. Although we found this a miserable hole, it was much better than the filthy, lousy cars. When we got to Libby we were as nearly starved as men get to be, and navigate. We drew our rations here and got all our wounds dressed, although no surgeon was there.

Oct. 22.--To-day they have stopped our rations for punishment. Four men escaped from Castle Thunder last night. We get grub from our officers who are confined above, but we have to be very sly, as they allow no communications to be held between us and them.

Oct. 23.--They still keep our rations from us The wounded are doing pretty well; but we are all so dirty and filthy it is a wonder we don't catch some contagious disease; we can get no soap to wash with.

Oct. 24.--This morning all the wounded were taken to the Alabama Hospital, and all those who were not wounded were sent to Belle Isle, to remain there until exchanged or starved to death, the latter the most probable.

Oct. 25.--We are much more comfortably situated than we were at Libby. We have a very