good room, yet we have no blankets and have to sleep on the floor. There is no medicine even here. Oct. 26.--Nothing of importance to-day. Oct. 27.--To-day they took the names of one hundred and eighty-five of the worst wounded to exchange at nine P. M. We were put in a scow and started for City Point. Oct. 28.--We are now on the flag of truce boat New-York. The Stars and Stripes float proudly above us, yet it is a sorrowful sight to see the poor boys, they look like skeletons. I venture not more than ten of our number will weigh one hundred pounds. I fear quite a number of the boys will die, they are beyond medical skill. Oct. 29.--I feel like a white man now, the first time since I was captured. We are now in St. John's College Hospital. Each one of us had to take a good scrub, and was put into a clean shirt, after which, the most welcome of all things, came a beautiful roast. I trust our troubles are ended for a season.
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