March 14, Evening.
A curious incident
occurred this morning which gave me a full hundred (from both regiments) sick
and wounded to examine and prescribe for and fill out my prescriptions. The
John Adams started for a secret raid up the river at daylight, without
notifying Dr. Minor, the steward and hospital nurse, who were all sleeping on
the boat. It was a good enough joke, but for me not so practical as to make me
crave a repetition. Tonight our sick and wounded are in the hospital. Colonel
Montgomery thought the Lord had grown these handsome shade trees especially for
barricades, and I have never a doubt that the Washington Hotel, with its
sixteen chambers, and a fire-place in each, was especially intended for a
military hospital. Possibly it is because it seems too good to last that I deem
it hazardous to bring our sick ashore, but the two Colonels assure me it is
perfectly safe to do so.
Our belligerent
Chaplain1 is armed with a revolver on each side and a Ballard rifle
on his back. He keeps so persistently on the advanced picket line that I could
scarcely persuade him to conduct the funeral service of a poor fellow who was
shot the other day. Today he got on the track of some cavalry and infantry, and
was certain of surrounding and capturing them, if he could only get permission
from the Colonel. His hatred of slavery is so intense that his prayers are of a
nature to keep his powder dry.
We have burned a
good many houses within a mile of town, to get rid of screens for the enemy
between us and the woods, where rather formidable trees are being felled to
complete our water barricade. The houses are often occupied by women and
children whose husbands and fathers are in the Confederate service. The
Chaplain, being a man of fire, has much to do with this matter. Today, I
questioned him as to his usual mode of proceeding. I found he gave them the
choice of the two governments, but with the explicit statement that their
friends in arms were to be killed soon unless they came in and surrendered. His
division of the effects of these families seems rather scriptural. "What
seems to belong to the woman, I yield to her, but what seems to belong to the
man, I have brought into camp."
Some of these cases
are very pitiful and call out my deepest commiseration. Today I visited a poor
widow who has a son in the rebel service. Her house was burned and she, with
her children, was brought into town. She has not been able to walk a step
during the last five months. On examination I found that her prostration was
due entirely to privations and hardships resulting from war. For more than a
year her food has been "dry hominy" with now and then a little fish.
She was born in Alabama of "poor white" parents. As I talked to her
it seemed to me it must be difficult for her to understand the justice of our
coming here to invade the homes of those who had always earned their bread by
the sweat of their brows.
Yesterday I
conversed with a lady who lives in a pleasant cottage, with her beautiful
little children and her aged mother. Her husband is a captain outside our
barricades and when the Colonel granted her permission to go wherever she
chose, she said so many had gone from the river and coast towns to the interior
that one could scarcely find a barn to stay in or food to subsist on. She
remains here for the present. Her husband was a music teacher and was taken
into the army by conscription. From what I can learn of him through Union men,
I have no doubt he would gladly return to loyalty. What are we to do with such
families? "Things are a little mixed" here in the South, but we must
all suffer the results of our great national sin, some one way, some another.
I have given out
word that the Surgeon of our regiment will cheerfully and gladly attend to the
medical needs of all civilians here. To be the means of relieving suffering is
sufficient compensation, but in this case there is the additional good of being
able to make anti-slavery statements in a satisfactory way.
I never supposed I
could be so much gratified by comparatively level scenery. The river is very
beautiful, – quite clear and of a deep amber color. I cannot tell you how much
I enjoy my evening bath. Dr. Minor usually goes with me. Once, while in the
water, the companies were hurriedly ordered to "fall in," but it
seemed so unnatural that one's bathing should be interfered with that we were
not startled by the alarm.
We find the rebel
women here exceedingly desirous to prove that our soldiers are guilty of all
the outrages they might expect from a long-injured people now in power. Many of
our soldiers are natives of this place and meet their old mistresses here. On
the day of our landing I was over and over implored, by those who knew their
deserts, to protect them from the "niggers." It was an awful turning
of the tables. I quite enjoyed saying "These are United States troops and
they will not dishonor the flag."
Several charges have
been preferred against the soldiers, but thus far, when sifted down, have
proved quite as much against those who complained as against our men. The
Adjutant told me of a lady of easy manners, who had been very much insulted by
a soldier. Close investigation proved that he actually sat on her front
door-step.
That our soldiers do
some outrageous things, I have little doubt. When women taunt them with
language most unbecoming, as they sometimes do, I should be very sorry if they
did not return a silencer. Thus far they have behaved better than any white
regiment has done under such temptations. They "confiscate" pigs and
chickens because their captains connive at it and the Provost Marshal cannot do
everything alone.
1 Rev. James H. Fowler, of Cambridge, Mass.
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