Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, August 9, 1861

What a wonderful effect the hardships of camp life, with the troubles and cares which they entail on a surgeon, have had on my health. For many years I have been dyspeptic. Now I can eat what I please, and go without sleep almost entirely, and suffer no inconvenience. Last night, at 11 o'clock, after having ate a piece of hard salt beef for my supper, I "cared for" a pint of rich ice cream, and feel no inconvenience from it to-day. This would kill an ordinary civil man. I have to work very hard, but feel it a great comfort to work amongst the sick without suffering from fatigue, as I have been accustomed to.

Having received an order this morning from Gen. Dix to put all my sick into general hospital, and finding them bitterly opposed, I visited Fort McHenry, saw Gen. D., and prevailed on him to rescind the order.

I was highly gratified with what I saw at Fort McHenry. It, being the first equipped fort I ever saw, was an object of much interest; its numerous cannon, large enough for a small soldier to sleep in, pointing in all directions overlooking Baltimore and guarding all the approaches to it. No matter from what direction you come, you find these monster guns looking right in your face. Low down behind the walls lie almost innumerable ugly bull-dog-looking mortars, not over two and a half feet long, loaded with a 20 to 40-pound shells filling them to the very muzzle, and ready to be vomited forth at the first approach of trouble. There, too, is the great Dahlgren, stretching its long black neck away beyond the embrasures, as if looking for an object into which to pour its monster shot and shell, or its shower of grape and cannister. Its howitzers are there, and its great Columbiads, into some of which I was strongly tempted to crawl and take a nap, but a sudden recollection of the history of Jonah reminded me that its stomach, too, might sicken, and that I might awake in a trip across the mighty deep on the wings of the wind. I didn't go in. The bright little brass 6, 8, and 10pounders, on the greater number of which Napoleon said God always smiled in battles, were conspicuous amongst these great leviathans, and above all, the newly invented rifle cannon, ready to demolish ships or houses at two to five miles distance.

Have lost no man yet from sickness, but I have one who, I fear, will not recover. He is supposed to be poisoned by a glass of lemonade, bought of a man suspected of being a rebel.

I have succeeded, by selling a half barrel of flour, and by the approval of a small requisition made on the commissary, in getting provisions of all kinds to make my little detachment comfortable.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 10-12

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, April 4, 1863

April 4.

Tomorrow I hear we are to pull up stakes and go on picket duty. This is not easy work, but work of any kind is preferable to inactivity. Dr. Minor is down with intermittent fever. I scarcely know how to spare him. I was obliged to send John Quincy to the Beaufort Hospital.

. . . Mrs. General Lander¹ drew up her splendid steed before my tent door this afternoon and assured me she would do all in her power for our General Hospital for colored soldiers, now being established in Beaufort.

It is yet undecided who the surgeon will be and I am somewhat solicitous about it. Very few surgeons will do precisely the same for blacks as they would for whites, and I know of no people more susceptible to the benign influence of kind words than these long-suffering blacks.

Mrs. Lander told me that the sixth Connecticut boys were full of praises of the bravery of our regiment.

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¹ Jean Margaret Davenport, widow of Major-Gen. Frederick William Lander.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 385-6

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, April 7, 1863

April 7.

Some of you can imagine how heartily I enjoyed the morning gallop from station to station, to look after our soldiers. They endured the march well, but are not equal to whites. I believe the Colonel is more easily reconciled to this disparity of endurance, from the fact that it corroborates his theory that physical endurance and longevity are enhanced by civilization. Yesterday morning as we came through Beaufort I visited Gen'l Saxton and asked him to detail Dr. Hawks to take charge of the new General Hospital for colored soldiers instead of carrying out his plan to appoint Dr. whose treatment is open to criticism. Tonight I am glad to hear that all is going as I could wish, and that our men will not be neglected. Dr. Minor is here with me again.

At Seabrook, this morning, I saw the rebel pickets on the opposite shore. They often hail our men, but are never answered. The men chafe under this a little, but obey the Colonel's order. Charles Follen has charge of that plantation. I like him. There is a prospect of his joining our regiment. I heartily wish we might have all earnest, antislavery men for officers. Military training without moral help is not very valuable.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 387

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, April 13, 1863

April 13.

Today I have visited our soldiers in Gen. Hospital No. 10, in Beaufort. I am happy to say that at last we have a hospital with a look of permanence, and about as good as the others. Dr. and Mrs. Hawks and one hospital steward have worked hard to get it in order. The supply of stores and medicines has been furnished by the Medical Department. Tonight the precious wandering box of capsicum and all the good things found its way to me. The iron band had kept it secure. Not a particle of the candy nor the capsicum had been eaten, not a postage stamp lost.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 388

Chaplain James C. Wyatt to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, September 15, 1862

MIDDLETOWN, MD.

Sept. 15th, 1862.

Mrs. Lusk:

Capt. Lusk desired me to pen you a line, as he did not have the time or opportunity, informing you that he has passed through another bloody and fearful carnage and is spared and in good health. I met him this morning as I was returning to the General Hospital at this place. The enemy has been badly beaten. Our Regt. has not suffered much comparatively. You have reason to be proud of your son. May God bless him and protect him.

Yours truly,

JAs. C. Wyatt,

Chaplain 79th N. Y. V.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 197

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Tuesday, February 2, 1864

A cloudy morning. The sick have gone to the general hospital to-day which indicates a general move; started for picket at 9 a. m.; fine marching; arrived on the line about 12 noon; heavy wind all afternoon; am in command of Company G on picket; have had a thunderstorm this evening. All's quiet on the picket line to-night.

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 14-5

A Woman's Diary Of The Siege Of Vicksburg: May 9, 1863

This morning the door-bell rang a startling peal. Martha being busy, I answered it. An orderly in gray stood with an official envelope in his hand.

“Who lives here?”

“Mr. L––.”

Very imperiously — “Which Mr. L––?”

“Mr. H–– L––."

“Is he here?”  “No.”

“Where can he be found?”

“At the office of Deputy ––.”

“I'm not going there. This is an order from General Pemberton for you to move out of this house in two hours. He has selected it for headquarters. He will furnish you with wagons.”

“Will he furnish another house also?”

“Of course not.”

“Has the owner been consulted?”

“He has not; that is of no consequence; it has been taken. Take this order.”

“I shall not take it, and I shall not move, as there is no place to move to but the street.”

“Then I'll take it to Mr. L––.”

“Very well, do so.”

As soon as Mr Impertine walked off I locked, bolted, and barred every door and window. In ten minutes H–– came home.

“Hold the fort till I've seen the owner and the general,” he said, as I locked him out.

Then Dr. B–– 's remark in New Orleans about the effect of Dr. C––'s fine presence on the Confederate officials there came to mind. They are just the people to be influenced in that way, I thought. I look rather shabby now; I will dress I made an elaborate toilet, put on the best and most becoming dress I had, the richest lace, the handsomest ornaments, taking care that all should be appropriate to a morning visit; dressed my hair in the stateliest braids, and took a seat in the parlor ready for the fray. H–– came to the window and said:

“Landlord says, ‘Keep them out. Wouldn't let them have his house at any price.’ He is just riding off to the country and can't help us now. Now I'm going to see Major C––, who sent the order.”

Next came an officer, banged at the door till tired, and walked away. Then the orderly came again and beat the door — same result. Next, four officers with bundles and lunch-baskets, followed by a wagon-load of furniture. They went round the house, tried every door, peeped in the windows, pounded and rapped, while I watched them through the blind-slats. Presently the fattest one, a real Falstaffian man, came back to the front door and rung a thundering peal. I saw the chance for fun and for putting on their own grandiloquent style. Stealing on tiptoe to the door, I turned the key and bolt noiselessly, and suddenly threw wide back the door and appeared behind it. He had been leaning on it, and nearly pitched forward with an “Oh ! what's this!” Then seeing me as he straightened up, “Ah, madam!” almost stuttering from surprise and anger, “are you aware I had the right to break down this door if you hadn't opened it?”

“That would make no difference to me. I'm not the owner. You or the landlord would pay the bill for the repairs.”

“Why didn't you open the door?”

“Have I not done so as soon as you rung? A lady does not open the door to men who beat on it. Gentlemen usually ring; I thought it might be stragglers pounding.”

“Well,” growing much blander, “we are going to send you some wagons to move; yon must get ready.”

“With pleasure, if you have selected a house for me. This is too large; it does not suit me.”

“No, I didn't find a house for you.”

“You surely don't expect me to run about in the dust and shelling to look for it, and Mr. L–– is too busy.”

“Well, madam, then we must share the house. We will take the lower floor.”

“I prefer to keep the lower floor myself; you surely don't expect me to go up and down stairs when you are so light and more able to do it.”

He walked through the hall, trying the doors. “What room is that?” — “The parlor.” “And this?” — “Mv bedroom.” “And this?” — “The dining-room.”

“Well, madam, we'll find you a house and then come and take this.”

“Thank you, colonel; I shall be ready when you find the house Good-moming, sir.”

I heard him say as he ran down the steps. “We must go back, captain ; you see I didn't know they were this kind of people.”

Of course the orderly had lied in the beginning to scare me, for General P–– is too far away from Vicksburg to send an order. He is looking about for General Grant. We are told he has gone out to meet Johnston: and together they expect to annihilate Grant's army and free Vicksburg forever. There is now a general hospital opposite this house and a small-pox hospital next door. War. famine, pestilence, and fire surround us. Every day the band plays in front of the small-pox hospital. I wonder if it is to keep up their spirits? One would suppose quiet would be more cheering.

SOURCE: George W. Cable, “A Woman's Diary Of The Siege Of Vicksburg”, The Century Illustrated Monthly Magazine, Vol. XXX, No. 5, September 1885, p. 770

Major Wilder Dwight: November 30, 1861

camp Near Seneca, November 30, 1861.

If anything were needed to assure my decision regarding a visit home, it could be found in the experience of the past two days. Yesterday — a rainy day, by the way — I was fully occupied with questions relating to the sick, and, in the afternoon, by a session of the Board of Claims. To-day, field-officer of the day. It has been a bright, windy, drying day, for which we are thankful. A tardy wisdom has at length decided to remove the division of General Banks from its present grotesque position to the neighborhood of Frederick City. Within easy distance, by rail, of Harper's Ferry, of Baltimore, and Washington, the division will there be promptly available for any purpose. It will be placed in a more healthy position. It will be within reach of supplies. It will be so far permanent that it can make itself comfortable for a season. How it will get there is quite another question. The rains of the past week have made the roads almost impassable; and to move a whole division, with its immense trains, a distance of thirty miles, over swollen watercourses and worn-out roads, seems a hopeless undertaking. We probably commence the attempt Tuesday morning. It is certainly a move in the right direction, and seems, to my narrow horizon, made a month too late.

To-day a part of our sick have been sent off to the General Hospital at Baltimore. Preparations were made yesterday by the Medical Director to send the worst cases from the whole division.

The order to move the sick down to the canal to take the boat came early this morning. At ten o'clock they were moving; and at five o'clock this afternoon the boat was ready for them. The whole day they waited — two hundred sick men, in wagons and in discomfort — on the banks of the canal. The sight was most irritating this afternoon when I rode down there.

Just at nightfall they were huddled in, one hundred and fifty men to one canal-boat, the rest sent back for want of room, and the boat moved off. Wretched mismanagement, and I fear great suffering as its fruit.

In fact, the whole hospital system is a blunder, if not a crime. It wants entire reorganization. There should be no regimental hospitals. What can a regiment do, dragging sick men after it? How can a regiment, with its hospital tent, take proper care of them?

The proper system would be to have hospitals attached to divisions, all the sick, except trivial cases, sent there, and treated by surgeons who have only that to do. Then the regiment would be free from its greatest embarrassment in the field. Then the sick would not die, as I have seen them do, for mere want of warmth, rest, and nursing. As a matter of organization and unity, as an administrative question, it seems as clear as sunlight; but we work along in a system that did well enough for an army of fifteen thousand men scattered in barracks and garrisons in time of peace, but is utterly inapplicable to a vast army in the field. To-day's blundering movement was, however, bad management, even according to this false system. It stirs one up to see it. But I won't preach on this text any more.

I hope the war will last long enough to give us an army organized according to all the wisdom and experience of other nations, and carefully adapted to our own wants. What a splendid creation such an army would be! In fact, how plain it is, to any one who watches the progress of things out here, that a soldier is an artificial mechanism, that an army is still more so, that for a nation to neglect the art which produces its army is the same thing as for a man to reject the exercises and discipline which promote his vigor. Well, perhaps we shall grow wiser as we grow older; perhaps we shall blunder in some other direction.

I am in hopes to get Colonel Andrews off to-day or tomorrow, in canal-boat, to Washington. This last sentence is written Sunday morning, the rest being Saturday-night reflections. The day is a dark and threatening one. We shall have a fine march to Frederick!

I am very well indeed, and there is no news with us. Love to all.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Amelia Dwight, Editor, Life and Letters of Wilder Dwight: Lieut.-Col. Second Mass. Inf. Vols., p. 161-3

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Monday, July 11, 1864

A train load of the sick and wounded left today over the railroad for Rome, Georgia, where they are to go into the hospital. I stayed here at Marietta all day.² The general quartermaster has his headquarters here now since the railroad is in running order to this point. The supplies for the army are being taken from here by wagon trains and distributed along the lines as needed. A great many citizens are coming into Marietta for the purpose of going North to get away from the war region.

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² Mr. Downing thought that his fever was broken and that he might soon rejoin his company, yet he feared that he would have to go to Rome. There was some danger in going to Rome, because of a possible attack, and then he dreaded the thought of being confined in the general hospital. — Ed.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 204