Two or three great tears silently flow'd out
from the eyes, and roll'd down his temples (he was doubtless unused
to be spoken to as I was speaking to him.)Sickness, imprisonment,
exhaustion, &c., had conquer'd the body, yet the mind held mastery
still, and call'd even wandering remembrance back.
There are some fifty Southern soldiers here; all sad, sad cases. There
is a good deal of scurvy. I distributed some paper, envelopes, and
postage stamps, and wrote addresses full and plain on many of the
envelopes.
I return'd again Tuesday, August 1, and moved around in the same
manner a couple of hours.
_September 22, '65_.--Afternoon and evening at Douglas hospital to see
a friend belonging to 2d New York Artillery (Hiram W. Frazee, Serg't,)
down with an obstinate compound fracture of left leg receiv'd in one
of the last battles near Petersburg. After sitting a while with him,
went through several neighboring wards. In one of them found an old
acquaintance transferr'd here lately, a rebel prisoner, in a dying
condition. Poor fellow, the look was already on his face. He gazed
long at me. I ask'd him if he knew me. After a moment he utter'd
something, but inarticulately. I have seen him off and on for the
last five months. He has suffer'd very much; a bad wound in left leg,
severely fractured, several operations, cuttings, extractions of bone,
splinters, &c. I remember he seem'd to me, as I used to talk with him,
a fair specimen of the main strata of the Southerners, those without
property or education, but still with the stamp which comes from
freedom and equality.
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