He suffered intense agony, and would pass the whole night walking up and down the street in front of our tent, moaning distressingly.

The bullet could be felt plainly with the fingers, and we were sure that it would not be a minute's work, with a sharp knife, to remove it and give the man relief.

But we could not prevail upon the Rebel Surgeons even to see the man.

Finally inflammation set in and he died.
The negros were made into a squad by themselves, and taken out every day to work around the prison.

A white Sergeant was placed over them, who was the object of the contumely of the guards and other Rebels.