Stories of hospital and camp

Front matter

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STORIES

Introduction

IT is now more than a decade of years since the close of that great conflict which, beyond anything else in the history of our country, tested our national character, and by its results gave us a right to call this land a land of freedom. When we say that it was a stupendous struggle, which gave to every man, woman, and child in the country something to do and something to suffer, calling on each to renounce some pleasure and take up some burden, — to surrender the present, the personal, tangible good for advantages that were general and to some extent ideal, — our words do but faintly set forth the reality.

The call was imperative, the stake nothing less than our national life, and the response equal to the grandeur of the crisis. Everywhere throughout the loyal States was set up the altar of sacrifice, and everywhere was that sacred altar glorified by gifts of what we held most precious.

But while we who live to see this day may rejoice if we, too, were privileged to lay some humble gift on the sacrificial altar, shall we be so recreant to honor, gratitude, and

Vlll INTRODUCTION.

love, as to forget those who gave themselves ? Who did not hold life itself too dear a thing to lay down, when rebellion threatened the dismemberment of our Republic. Who were not behind the martyrs of olden time in courage on the battle-field, patience and self-renunciation in fulfilling the new and hard duties of a soldier's life, fortitude under suffering, meekness and submission in the hour of death. Should we not often call to mind the bodily pains and perils, the mental anguish and bloody deaths, through which these grand souls wrought out for us a new national life ? And ought we not carefully to teach the children of the present generation, — charging them not to let their children or their children's children forget what it cost their fathers to leave to them a united country; and, to this end, gather up whatever may be within our reach that can render the impression more vivid and durable ? It is with a sense of this duty, and in the hope of preserving a few fragments of this most interesting though sorrowful history, that at this late hour I turn to some very inadequate notes of service in military hospitals, and, with such help as memory still affords, endeavor to make them worthy an humble place in the records of those eventful days.

For the active campaign and the battle-field were not always the greatest hardships of a soldier's life. Even on the field of carnage, the perilous picket-line, and trenches, or in long and weary marches, there was that

INTRODUCTION. IX

within of hope, or that without of excitement, to nerve the arm and bear up the spirit to meet the crisis. But with what sinking of heart must a man who was yesterdayrejoicing in the glory of an active and adventurous career, find himself all of a sudden lying on the narrow bed of a hospital, maimed for life by the loss of a limb, or with the warm life-current ebbing away through a wound in some vital part ? It was here that the true spirit of the Christian martyr arose triumphant and faced, without blenching, the last enemy. Can the records of our Revolutionary Fathers show anything more heroic than this ? My story consists strictly of personal observations and experience, and is but an imperfect record of incidents connected with forty months' service in our military hospitals, during the period intervening between the early part of March, 1862, and July, 1865.

Wakefield, Mass., April, 1876.

CHAPTER I. PAGE Frederick City, Md 13

CHAPTER H.

In the Army of the Potomac 29

CHAPTER HI.

Chancellorsville 34

CHAPTER IV.

Gettysburg cq

CHAPTER V.

Mutations ty

CHAPTER VI.

Looking for the Fifth Corps 67

CHAPTER VII.

Winter-Quarters 70

CHAPTER Vm.

Cavalry Corps Hospital, City Point, Va. ... 91

X

CONTENTS. XI

CHAPTER IX.

PAGE

CHAPTER X.

CHAPTER XI.

Along the Lines 147

Chapter I. Frederick City, Aid

HAVING heard, through the kindness of friends in Boston, that I might find work to do for our soldiers in the general hospitals in Baltimore, I went thither; but as my attention had already been directed to Frederick City, Md., as a place where nurses for the sick and wounded were much needed, and finding, when I reached Baltimore, that Mrs. Tyler, who, with great tact and skill, had or2:anized a band of nurses for the Camden Street Hospital, had just received a requisition for more nurses from the surgeon in charge of the hospital at Frederick — I preferred going there, and accordingly accompanied the steward of the hospital, then in Baltimore, on his return. The hospital at Frederick City consisted of two large stone buildings, erected as far back as the time of Washington, but

2 13 well preserved, and to these were added from time to time, as the number of patients increased, long wooden barracks, each of which would accommodate about a hundred beds ; a row of fifty on each side, with a sufficiently wide walk between.

Here, as in all other hospitals that I have seen, was much suffering, both physical and mental ; depression and discontent in some cases, patient endurance and gratitude in many, often mingled and relieved by touches of the grotesque and ludicrous.

On the 23d of March, 1862, occurred the battle of Winchester, Va., and our hospital was soon filled with wounded from the battle-field. Our first care for them was, sometimes before they were taken from the ambulances, to administer food and slightly stimulating drinks; then, when they had been washed, wounds dressed, hair combed, bloody and torn garments replaced by others clean and whole, those who were not badly wounded, would sit up in their narrow beds, or walk about the wards, hobbling on crutches, or with their arms in slings, as the case might require — cheerful, sometimes jolly, often congratulating themselves that the case with them was no worse. They had not much objection to being complimented on their soldierly appearance, or to our expressions of admiration and gratitude for the bravery of our boys in blue. They never wearied of recounting incidents of the strife, and a willing listener would generally be surrounded by three or four at a time, each anxious to tell his own story. " I can't help thinking," said one, " of poor Jemmie. He was so badly wounded that we had to leave him in Winchester to die. When I said to him, * This is too bad, Jemmie,' he shook his head, and said, 'Yes, it is bad; but better so than that Stonewall Jackson should have come into Winchester.' "

A slender, boyish-looking little fellow, in describing the manner in which he had escaped the watchful care of his mother that he might enlist, excused the apparent cruelty by saying that he always hated sceneses, and he knew if he told his mother, she would cry so that he could n't come. Poor boy! he little dreamed of the sceneses into which he was rushing.

Among the good and intelligent soldiers who came to us at that time, were many worthy of especial notice, but of these I will mention only one. A handsome young German, named Russell, belonging to an Ohio regiment, was wounded in the arm. The wound had been carefully dressed, and there was hope of saving the arm, until, walking across the floor, he stumbled and fell with his great weight on the broken bone. The consequence was great inflammation and a necessity for amputation. For eleven weeks he lingered, at first doing well, but afterwards sinking until he was gone. During all this time he received the most assiduous care l6 FREDERICK CITY.

from those in attendance in the hospital, and daily presents of delicacies from ladies in the town. He was always glad to hear portions of the Bible, or other religious books which were read to him, and, when near his end, the last rites of the Romish Church were administered by his favorite priest. Still he had been reticent, indicating only by a pleased, bright glance of the eye his appreciation of what was done for him. I was, therefore, the more affected when, just before he expired, seeing that he was making an effort to speak, and stooping over him to catch his parting word, I heard him say, brokenly,

" I want — I want — "

" What do you want, Russell ?" I asked.

" I want to tell you — what — what I will do for you — when I get — to another place — "

The dying man, doubtless, had in mind some idea of intercession, as inculcated by his Church, and gathered up in these few words the whole sum of gratitude and affection which had so often beamed from his beautiful eyes.

One Sunday, while superintending the distribution of dinner in my ward, I heard footsteps coming down the long walk, and, looking up, saw the chief medical officer, preceded a little by a gentleman in citizen's dress, whose appearance at once riveted my attention. There was nothing very striking in his brown suit, white cravat, sallow complexion, heavy gray beard, and anxious expression;, and yet on the whole he was remarkable, and I stood looking at him as he passed down, his keen eye seeming to take in everything, especially the dinner that was being served out to our men, until, with a slight bow, he turned and passed out at the side door.

" Do you know what strange gentleman inspected our hospital to-day?" I asked of a citizen friend whom I met as I walked across the hospital grounds.

" Oh, yes ; that was Dr. George. He was a surgeon in the Crimean war; owns a large plantation in Louisiana; very rich; a good Union man."

A few weeks afterwards, when our hospital and town were occupied by the rebel army, I compared notes with one of their soldiers, and learned that this man was Stonewall Jackson. ** He often goes into your lines," they say, " in disguise, and so acquaints himself with what is going on in your army." Long after the war was over, the report of my rebel friend was confirmed by one of Stonewall Jackson's staff officers, Major Riley, whom I met as I was travelling in Virginia. He said that he was acquainted with the fact of General Jackson's visit to Frederick about three weeks before Lee's invasion of Maryland, and that he visited the hospitals, introducing himself as Dr. George.

As the summer passed away, we had frequent accessions of sick and wounded from various quarters, and a sharp contest was continually going on l8 FREDERICK CITY.

between those who were striving to save and the grim tyrant, who seemed always watching at the door, waiting an opportunity to lay his icy hand on some helpless victim. How often did it happen — as, indeed, it did through all my hospital life— that while some most severe case seemed to demand my special attention, another, perhaps on the very next bed, whom I would leave comfortable at night, would be gone in the morning. Looking for him I would find that his bed had been taken away, and did not need to ask why it was removed.

Then there was the frequent departure of squads of soldiers pronounced well enough to rejoin their regiments. Going forth to a future so uncertain, we could not say farewell without the greatest interest and anxiety, and often the trembling voice and tearful eye, as they gave the parting hand, testified their appreciation of our solicitude. Then tidings would come of some of these that they were shot in this or that battle. One such case I remember with great sorrow. It was of a young soldier who came to the hospital with a severe wound in the hand, and was at first very much depressed, and suffering from homesickness. He had no money, his wound was painful, he was lonely and distressed. I listened to his grievances, tried to imbue him with a more cheerful spirit and with a sense of the greatness and worthiness of the cause in which he suffered, and gave him money for the

FREDERICK CITY. I9

supply of his immediate wants. He at first declined to receive money, saying, " Perhaps you need it yourself as much as I do," and would accept it only after being assured that I could spare it without the slightest inconvenience. After a while he would come to my quarters, and, sitting through the summer evening, make free confession of his past sins, especially of his habit of swearing, which he said he had never dared to do at home. He had never uttered an oath in my hearing, but some of the men in his ward had told me that he was shockingly profane ; and I begged him to desist from that habit, and all others that would be defiling to his soul, and to seek from heaven help and strength to withstand the temptations of a soldier's life. " I do sometimes think," he said, " that I will try to do better; but the army is such a wicked place. You don't know how hard it is for a soldier to be good." So, wishing to be good, but still irresolute, he left us with a thirty days' furlough, at the expiration of which he was to report to his regiment. I heard nothing from him until, long afterwards, a soldier asked of me, —

" Do you remember Gilbert, who was here last summer, wounded in the hand?"

" Yes ; very well. Have you seen him ?"

" Yes. I saw him after the battle of Antietam, dead on the field, shot through the head."

Another, from whom I have never heard, and who, when he took my hand at parting, could hardly speak through his tears, said to me, " I used to swear ; but since I came to the army, I hear the boys swear so wicked that it disgusts me, and I mean to leave it off. I read my Bible now, and pray every day, and will try to live a good life."

So we went on until after the battle of August 30th, generally called the second battle of Bull Run, when we were astounded by the intelligence that Lee's army had crossed the Potomac into Maryland, and. was marching on Frederick City.

As the town could not be defended, the citizens prepared to give him as silent a reception as possible. The home guard was sent off, also every hospital patient who could walk to the outskirts of the town, where teams were seized to convey them to a safe distance. Large quantities of Government clothing, blankets, and other hospital stores were collected and burnt on the grounds. All through the town window-blinds were closed and the streets silent and deserted. In our hospital remained a few patients who could not be removed, and the medical officers with a few attendants and nurses. All through the long night of September 5th we watched and waited their coming with intense anxiety, wondering what would be our fate as prisoners. At length, at ten o'clock on the morning of the 6th, we caught the gleam of bayonets on the eastern hill, and Stuart's cavalry, followed by Jackson's infantry, entered the town. As they poured rather lazily along through Main Street, a miserable band, with cracked instruments, struck up " My Maryland!" but the music soon died away. A squad of horsemen from the van, dashed up into the hospital enclosure, wheeled around in front of one of the old stone buildings, and, presenting bayonets to a few medical officers, who stood leaning on the balcony, demanded, in the name of the Confederate States, the surrender of the post.

During a brief delay in finding the chief medical officer, there was time for a short colloquy.

" Our men must have been asleep to let you come into Maryland," said a hospital steward.

•* Yes," replied a young rebel officer. " Many of them are sleeping at Bull Run ; more on the Peninsula."

Then the surrender was made, protection promised, and guards placed at the doors of every ward. A Virginia brigade marched in and bivouacked on the hospital grounds. As they filed past, we saw that each man had a watermelon on his shoulder, captured from neighboring fields. They quickly seated themselves in squads and began to devour them, throwing the refuse about our nicely policed grounds. It was but the beginning of sorrows in that line, for before the week was out, the place, which before had been a model of neatness, was turned into a pen of filth. When at night I went to my lodgings, just outside the hospital grounds, as I stepped from the street into my sleeping-room, which was on the ground-floor, I was obliged to pass over the body of a rebel soldier, insensible from fatigue or liquor, another in the same condition was stretched along the pavement under my window, while a third stood sentinel in front. All through the night sleep was driven away by the continued tramp of troops, and the rumbling through the streets of artillery and army wagons. This continued with little cessation for two or three days, until the whole rebel army had passed through the town, and, as hour after hour I watched them from my window, the sight recalled to mind a little couplet which had been familiar in careless childhood :

" Hark ! hark ! the dogs do bark, The beggars are coming to town,"

so ragged were they, so filthy and squalid in appearance. Yet the events of the last few weeks had borne honorable testimony to their fighting abilities, and closer acquaintance proved that they were by no means ruffians. Seeing me at the open window, they would sometimes stop and ask humbly for food, and when I gave them what I had at hand, they received it very thankfully. When I went among them in our wards, of which they had taken possession, they willingly made way for me, and manifested the greatest gratitude for whatever I could supply for the relief of hunger, sickness, or wounds. In my own ward, which was constantly thronged with them, we held long conversations on the causes, progress, and probable termination of the war, and many of them I found to be good, intelligent, thoughtful men, having implicit faith in their cause, in God as their especial leader, and next to Him in Stonewall Jackson. It is true, they did us much damage — appropriating to themselves, without ceremony, the nice clothing and delicacies which were given in trust from Northern friends for our sick and wounded ; but when in leaving they kindly offered the parting hand, we could not withhold a kind response. " I shake hands with you as a Christian, not as a rebel," I said to one who had made himself quite a favorite in the ward ; and many of them, in parting with our men, expressed the hope that it might never be their fortune to meet them on the battle-field.

"Are you tired, soldier, after your long march?" I asked of one.

"No, lady; I shall not be tired till we get to Philadelphia."

" But do you know that many of you poor fellows will find a grave before you get to Philadelphia ? "

" We expected nothing else when we left our wives and little children, and they are as dear to us as yours are to yon-alls''

" But you are caught in a nice trap, and we shall soon see you rushing out of town much faster than you came in,"

** Perhaps you have n't heard," said another, "how we fight the Yankees in Virginia ? "

" No ; how is that ?"

" We fire on them till our powder is all gone, then we break our muskets over their heads, and hurl at them fence-rails and rocks."

" Very well ; our soldiers can fight with fence-rails and rocks as well as you, and you '11 have plenty of that sort of work between here and Philadelphia."

"Have you ever visited Richmond?" asked a gentlemanly young private.

" No, and (unless captured by you rebels) I shall not be likely to have that pleasure until your city is again peacefully settled under the Stars and Stripes."

" Then I venture a prediction. I predict you will never come."

" I felt just as you do about the old flag, two years ago," said a rebel major, " but now I hate it, and was glad to see it trampled in the dust, as I did yesterday."^ Your army is whipped now, and

* He referred to an outrage on our flag, committed by their soldiers — tying it by the corners to their horses' tails, and dragging it, followed by a troop of shouting horsemen, through the streets, till it was trampled and torn into shreds.

there is not one of you who does not know it. In a few weeks the Confederacy will be recognized by European powers ; General Lee is now on his way to Pennsylvania. In Philadelphia he will dictate his own terms of peace — "

" But we have a great North behind us." " So have we a great South behind us." " But it seems to me not to become either party to boast just now. None but the Lord above knows how this strife will terminate."

" We will soon let you know. We will not keep you in suspense more than three weeks at furthest."

So, turning on his heel, he left us, with no power to controvert his assertions, for we were prisoners, and knew nothing of what was going on outside of our beleaguered city. Neither could we wonder at the confidence of our adversaries, for they were flushed with their late victories, and laden with spoils from the bodies of our slain soldiers. But, though not having much whereof to boast, we were hopeful, continually watching in the direction from whence we believed deliverance would soon come, and at the end of the sixth day our straining eyes detected dark masses and lines in the distance, which we knew were neither trees nor fences, because they were in motion, and presently the dear old flag, never so precious as now, appeared, waving over our well-equipped and well-drilled troops. The 3 columns advanced over the hills. Now a line of skirmishers made their way through a cornfield, tore away the fence, and were in the hospital enclosure. We rushed to meet them, took them by the hand as brothers, invited them in, and set before them whatever we had at hand. They ate hastily, and had to go — they were under orders.

Already the rebel troops had disappeared, and the haste with which they jostled and crowded on one another, as they skedaddled through the town, was pleasant to our eyes ; and then, when our splendid cavalry, the First Maine, made a charge with drawn sabres through the streets, there was only a small portion of their rear-guard, from Stuart's cavalry, left to hold skirmish with our van. This was over in an hour or two, and then our magnificent army filled the town, coming in from various points — cavalry, infantry, artillery — until it was literally jammed. The citizens left their hiding places, and welcomed them with a frenzy of delight. Windows and doors were thrown open, joyful congratulations passed from one to another, flags, showing the stars and stripes, and the red, white, and blue, waved from the windows over the heads of the advancing columns. It was a grand moment, the significance of which no show of welcome or enthusiasm on our part could outdo, for, having released us from our imprisonment, they were pressing; on to the fields of South Mountain and Antietarn, which many were soon to redden with their life blood.

Then followed those fearful days and nights, during which the thunder of battle scarcely ceased, and our hospitals were crowded with the wounded of both armies, coming back to suffer, many to die. All the beautiful autumnal months were devoted to the care of these sufferers. In some cases the careful watcher and worker would be repaid by seeing a rapid convalescence, but more frequently pained to witness declining strength and eyes growing dim and tinged with a yellow hue, making it evident that Death had set his seal there, while the victims were wholly unaware of their approaching fate. The narrow hospital life, with its wearisome routine and petty exactions, was extremely irksome to convalescents. Many men in the ranks had refined and cultivated minds, others had bold and adventurous natures, and to them the restrictions of the hospital were a greater hardship than the active campaign, and they came to look upon themselves as prisoners, and the regulations, to which they were obliged to submit, as unjust. Their present surroundings were distasteful, the future looked dark and unpromising. What wonder, if the air was at times rife with complaints, and a word of cheer seemed almost a mockery. Often, when surrounded by these scenes and similar ones in other hospitals, bewildered and almost despairing at the sight of

2S FREDERICK CITY.

woes to which I could bring only slight alleviation, I would, as a last effort, strive to inspire these sinking hearts with the hope that out of the present darkness and distress God would bring some blessing to our country and our race so grand, so far beyond our present comprehension, that we, beholding it in the future, would be satisfied.

But for the sufferers in the Frederick City hospitals there was one source of comfort which they can never forget — the visits of the warm-hearted, loyal, generous women who daily came in bands, bringing and distributing through the wards their gifts of delicacies to tempt the appetite, reading matter, paper and envelopes, always with such words of cheer, comfort, praise, and gratitude, that fainting hearts were reassured, and to die for one's country seemed, in their presence, "sweet and decorous,"

Chapter II. In The Army Of The Potomac

THE first battle of Fredericksburg was fought in December, 1862. Wounded men in great numbers were brought to Washington. Many of the churches and Government buildings in Washington, Georgetown, and Alexandria were turned into hospitals, and new hospitals were established in the environs of the city. Who that saw the Patent Office at that time will ever forget its great halls and corridors filled with rows of pale-faced sufferers, while there again the gloom was relieved by the presence of faithful, true-hearted women. Having spent December and a part of January in desultory work and visits in these hospitals, my steps were led to the Army of the Potomac. It was difficult at that time for non-combatants of either sex to obtain passes to the front, but after much delay and intercession I succeeded. My pass, from the War Department, was dated January 12th, 1863, and gave me permission to go to the Army of the Potomac with supplies for sick and wounded. I was accompanied and assisted during my first month in the field-hospitals by my friend. Miss Harriet Sharpless, of Pennsylvania, whose good 3* 29

30 IN THE ARMY OF THE POTOMAC.

work for the soldiers there and in other places is too well known to need any mention of mine. We went by steamboat to Aquia Creek, and thence by rail to Falmouth, opposite Fredericksburg, on the Rappahannock.

All along the river for miles stretched the white camps of our army, in their winter-quarters ; but among them all I sought out those of the First Division, Third Corps, then the Third Brigade, and Seventeenth Maine regiment, because in the latter were a brother and several other friends, by whose request I had come to this new field of labor.

A tent belonging to Major West, who was absent at the time, was appropriated to our use. Colonel Roberts, of Portland, was in command of the regiment at that time, and from him and the surgeon, Dr. Wiggin, and the other officers, we received a cordial welcome, and the best of such accommodations as their camp afforded, and here we were speedily initiated into camp-life and work in field-hospitals.

Hitherto the sick and wounded of the army of the Potomac had been sent to the Washington hospitals, but the experiment of field-hospitals was now to be tried, and that of the First Division, Third Corps — General D. B. Birney's — was just being established. The establishment of a field-hospital consisted in pitching a number of tents in a row or rows, according to the number of patients,

IN THE ARMY OF THE POTOMAC. 3I

bringing the latter from their own more narrowquarters in their little shelter tents, and laying them on the army blankets, which had been spread on the ground. Then men from the ranks were detailed as attendants, and for such nursing as soldiers could give.

A favorable position had been chosen for our division hospital. It was on high ground, and near a house which furnished lodgings for medical officers and lady nurses. It commanded a fine view of Fredericksburg, on the opposite side of the Rappahannock, and near at hand were the Lacy house and Phillip's house, the latter of which we regretted to see in flames not long after our arrival. General Lee's army was encamped on the hills around Fredericksburg. The river being narrow, the soldiers of the two armies, picketed along the opposite banks, could easily exchange words, and sometimes in riding along the river in my ambulance I would stop and listen to their questions and replies.