Saturday, July 2nd.
In camp all day. Am not feeling at all well. That persistent Virginia diarrhœa which has afflicted me more or less ever since we left Culpepper, aggravated, no doubt, by the intense heat we have had to endure, and by the coarse and scanty fare upon which we have been compelled to subsist (for I actually lived for nearly two days at one time on half an ear of corn which one of my men stole from the manger of a mule), seems at last to have perceptibly affected a naturally strong constitution. I think I’ll see the surgeon to-morrow.
We hear that many heavy guns have been put in position and that a regular siege of Petersburg has been decided on. Why don’t they give us some of these guns instead of muskets?
