July 1863, Fort Delaware (on being captured at Gettysburg)
I had terrible pain in my head, and felt very sick. Hearing my name called by someone near, I went over in that direction and found Smith of the Marion Company (Priv. James A. Smith, Co. G) wounded in the leg. I did what I could for him, tied up his wound and gave him water. Close by lay Rost of our company (Priv. J.C. Rost, Co. A) shot through the head.

I could now see that I was completely surrounded by Yankees, who had poured down the ridge after our men had been compelled to make a hasty retreat. Many of the Yanks took aim at me, whilst I was sitting by Smith, but none of them fired. Some of them, as they passed, told me to get to the rear. I tried to slip off, but a couple of them called out, "Stop you damned rebel" and not liking the direction in which their guns pointed, I not only stopped but at a second invitation returned, and was escorted by them to the rear. It was thus that I fell into the hands of the Philistines."

July 1863, Fort Delaware
A bright morning and no promise of rain. The tanks are all dry, and the men are turning with reluctant steps to the bay for water. I am dreading the effect of this water, it is really unfit to use for any purpose, and will certainly cause much sickness amongst us. I pray to Heaven that I may be soon released from this place…Swindled out of my supper this evening by one of those unprincipled "flankers," and fain to seek my couch on an empty stomach.

July 1863, Fort Delaware
A few nights ago one of the prisoners, driven by cold, had extemporized a stove out of a camp kettle, which he had "flanked," and was enjoying the luxury of a little heat, when the officer of the guard in passing through the barracks, unfortunately saw the reflection of the fire, and immediately put a stop to the rebels' enjoyment by discharging his revolver into the crowd on the bunk, and severely wounding one man in the head. This practice of firing into a crowd, where the chances are against injuring the man they judge to be guilty, is not only unjust but cowardly, downright murder. Many an innocent man has been injured by bayonet thrusts and shots, by the indulgence of this practice, since I came here…
I am told that young Stokes of our regiment (John G. Stokes, Co. B) died in the hospital on 7th. I must write to his friends if I live to return to Dixie. The nurses say he died very happy and that he was singing in a low tone of the "Happy Land" a few moments before Death closed his eyes. He told his nurse that he only regretted that he could not see his Pa. He was captured with me at Gettysburg. How many alas! Of those who came here with me in the bloom and strength of young life, are now sleeping their last sleep. Hundreds of faces, made familiar to us during the first three weeks of our confinement, are missed from amongst us, and I fear hundreds will follow, should our stay at this place be prolonged through the winter.