New prisoners report favorable progress by our armies. Yesterday there
was a powerful rain lasting ten hours. In this part the soil is red and hard,
surface flat, and water stood from two to four inches deep. We stood up all
night to keep out of it. Those too feeble to do this, were drenched and
drowned. It was with great physical and mental effort that I was able to endure
the strain as I have been feeble several days.
Four crazy men have been wandering through camp several days. I noticed
one today without any clothing, having been naked for two weeks. He lay within
four rods of the south gate, arms extended, exposed to the sun, in full view of
everybody. His whole body was blistered, his countenance frightfully distorted,
giving utterance to unintelligible sounds, frothy matter oozing from his mouth
and nostrils, his eyes appearing blind. Another prisoner shot through the hips
last night by a guard. One lay near the brook delirious, burning with fever;
another near him was unable to speak; one-half buried in the swamp, covered by
a mass of maggots and flies. Those who brought him out said his eyes, ears,
nose and mouth were filled. Near the sink, in almost every passage, lay
half-rotting skeletons, evincing all the signs of deprivation and symptoms of
pestilence, and yet alive. All of this and I have not been out of my usual
course. Neither do I mention those who have a slight covering
to turn the sun. There are hundreds who would require the best treatment to be
saved, and perhaps could not be saved. In this absence of medical treatment we
resort to simple means to cure ourselves. A very limited supply of red root and
white gum bark can be found, on our new lot, and pine bark, which are used to
check the almost universal complaints, diarrhoea, dysentery and urinary
troubles. I observed several men today had buried their limbs to the knees, as
a remedy for scurvy. But the truth is there is no remedy for this condition under
the circumstances. Never could we imagine anything so horrible! We might write
volumes, and fail to describe the horrible reality. Our people would disbelieve
it, and "pooh" as if it were a fabulous tale. Tonight some have a
season of prayer near us. One or two most excellent prayers were offered,
prayers that would grace pulpits, bearing an earnestness of the soul's
devotion. It seemed so much like home, like steadfast faith and adoration, a
reflex of the all-reaching Providence, that we felt it good to be there; that
hearts are still alive, the finer sympathies not entirely stifled. How much
better to see men in such communion, seeking consolation from heaven, than to
see them worse than brutes, or fighting demons! No rations today.
SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a
War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864,
p. 83
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