Sunday, January 11.—The hospital is filled with badly wounded, from almost every state. Many are getting furloughs to go home.
Instead of going to church I spent the day talking to the men. We have a badly wounded captain, named De Graffenread—a member of the 151st Tennessee Regiment. He is said to be one of the richest men in the state. One of his men is with him, and very much devoted to him. He generally has two negro servants who go to the army with him. At present he has one waiting on him, who is attentive, and an excellent nurse, and he dotes on his master.
We do not have many of the wounded die, comparatively speaking. A few days ago I saw two handsome lads breathe their last . 1 do not know their names. The fact is, Mrs. W. and myself have so many to attend that we find it impossible to devote our time to them separately; and we are far from being well.
Mrs. Gilmer, whom I met in Corinth, is in the hospital. She has been for some time in the service in Mississippi.
