Official Reports of the Campaign in North Alabama and Middle Tennessee, November 14, 1864-January 23, 1865: No. 8. — Report of Surg. George E. Cooper, U. S. Army, Medical Director, Department of the Cumberland.

No. 8.

Report of Surg. George E. Cooper, U. S. Army, Medical Director, Department of the Cumberland.

HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT OF THE CUMBERLAND,                

MEDICAL DIRECTOR'S OFFICE,        

Nashville, Tenn., April 7, 1865.

SIR: My report of the medical department of the Army of the Cumberland from the time of the invasion of Northern Alabama and Tennessee by the rebel army under General Hood till the defeat of the same by the Government forces in front of Nashville, and the pursuit thereof to beyond the Tennessee River, must be a meager and unsatisfactory one in consequence of my having been separated from the army, and not having myself been in active campaign with it until after the battle of Franklin, Tenn., when it presented itself in the defenses of Nashville. The proceedings of the medical corps are, however, exceedingly well pointed out in the accompanying report of Surg. J. Theo. Heard, medical director Fourth Army Corps, who in person accompanied that corps—all that was left as an organized force of the old Army of the Cumberland, the Fourteenth and Twentieth Corps having been taken by Major-General Sherman to form a portion of the army with which he made the great raid through Georgia.

At the time of evacuating Atlanta the corps hospitals of the Army of the Cumberland were, as they had been in the summer campaign, fully organized and equipped, and were ready to move at a moment's notice. The general field hospital, under the charge of Surg. M. C. Woodworth, was in fine condition and of sufficient capacity to receive all the sick and wounded of the army, who, on the breaking up of the division hospitals, might require medical treatment. Supplies of all kinds had been called for and procured by the field medical purveyor, and the army corps were amply and liberally supplied. The ambulances, which had been greatly used during the summer campaign, were repaired and put in as serviceable condition as the time and material on hand would admit of. When the rebel army fell upon the line of railroad at our rear the inconvenience suffered therefrom was, as far as the medical department was concerned, in reality nothing. The only article which ran short was whisky, and this was procured in ample quantities from the subsistence department. The quality, though not equal to that furnished by the medical department, was good enough for all practicable purposes.

The Fourth and Fourteenth Army Corps, having been detailed to follow Hood's army to the rear, the sick from their division hospitals were transferred to the general field hospital, where they were cared for as well as could be wished for, and the troops left Atlanta entirely disencumbered with sick or wounded men. What occurred from that time till the last days of November, 1864, is known to me by hearsay only and from reading the reports furnished these headquarters. For this information I refer to the excellent report of Surgeon Heard, medical director, Fourth Army Corps, who, having been one of that little band who held the whole rebel army in check from Decatur, Ala., to Nashville, Tenn., is far more competent to make the report than I. Synchronous with my arrival at Nashville from Atlanta and Chattanooga came reports of the falling back of our army from Pulaski, Tenn., and of heavy and continuous skirmishing with Hood's advance. On the 30th of November came the news that a severe action had taken place near Franklin, Tenn., and that our losses in both killed and wounded had been heavy. The medical director of the Fourth Army Corps was immediately telegraphed to and asked if he required a hospital train, and early next morning hospital train No. 2 was sent to Brentwood, between Nashville and Franklin. On the night of November 30 two freight trains loaded with wounded from skirmishes beyond Franklin, and which had been brought to that place in ambulances, arrived here. The wounded were transferred to the general hospitals here, and were promptly and skillfully cared for by the medical officers there on duty.

On the following day the troops arrived from Franklin, bringing with them quite a number of wounded, but having, unfortunately, been compelled to leave by far the greater portion in the hands of the enemy. Almost at the same time came the troops commanded by Maj. Gen. A. J. Smith. These troops were deficient in almost everything belonging to the hospital department; they had no organized ambulance corps or trains; there was no division or brigade organization of hospitals, but were as they had been from the beginning of the war, and seemed to have learned nothing from experience or the example of others, and opposed every improvement as an innovation. They had but few medical supplies, and were wanting in almost everything which would aid them in alleviating the sufferings of the sick and wounded of their commands. It became necessary to fit them out with all possible dispatch, which was done; and thanks are due to Surg. Robert Fletcher, U.S. Volunteers, medical purveyor, for his energy, efficiency, and promptness in this emergency. No one could have performed the duties of purveyor in a manner more creditable to himself or with greater benefit to the Government.

As soon as the troops arrived in front of Nashville they were placed in the lines and were compelled to throw up intrenchments. They were much prostrated by their constant harassing night and day marches from the Tennessee River to Nashville; but, notwithstanding this, in a short time, by constant and severe labor, works were thrown up which rendered Nashville impregnable. As the army was short of men, it became necessary to call to the aid of the beleaguered city all the troops within call. Consequently, the different detachments of the army which left Atlanta with General Sherman, and had remained behind, in hospitals and otherwise, were organized into a temporary corps under the command of Major-General Steedman. This extemporized corps was without any organization whatever, and to it was attached the regiments of colored troops. It is impossible for me to learn if these troops consider themselves a part and parcel of the Army of the Cumberland, or a separate command made for Colonel Mussey. I should judge them to be out of the department did I take the attention they pay to the existence of this office as a criterion. They are more irregular in forwarding their reports than any regiments in the Army of the Cumberland.

The weather, which, previous to the arrival of the troops, had been moderate, became, shortly after their arrival at Nashville, excessively cold for this latitude. The result of this was much suffering on the part of the troops and the comparative cessation of all offensive measures on the part of either army. At this time the results of the fatigue undergone by the troops in the retreat from Decatur and the subsequent labor in the trenches began to show themselves in the greatly increased number of men who presented themselves for medical treatment. Many, too, who had without detriment to their health undergone all the hardships of the summer and fall campaign, now yielded to the effects of the bitter cold, and diseases of the pulmonary viscera became numerous. Rheumatic affections, too, became quite prevalent. The advent of the rebel army in front of Nashville, and the fact of intrenching itself, rendered the necessity of a general action a moral certainty. To prepare for the sick and wounded of the Government forces demanded a much larger amount of hospital accommodation than was at that time at the disposal of the hospital department. Anticipating a large influx of wounded, the efficient superintendent and director of U.S. general hospitals at Nashville took possession of every building that could be made use of for hospital purposes and had them fitted up with all possible dispatch. Consequently, some 4,000 vacant beds were at the disposal of the medical department. The Assistant Surgeon-General, too, anticipating the necessity, ordered to Nashville a large number of medical officers, of whom many arrived prior to the actions and all in sufficient time to be of the greatest service to the wounded in the battles in front of Nashville. The medical officers of the Fourth Army Corps, being emphatically experts in the care of the wounded after battle, had everything prepared for prompt and efficient action. They had supplied themselves with all the necessaries, and, in addition, had procured all the delicacies within their reach. The result was that after the actions of 15th and 16th of December the men belonging to the Fourth Army Corps, and all who were brought to the field hospitals of that corps, were promptly and skillfully treated and most carefully provided for. Too much praise cannot be awarded to the medical staff of the Fourth Army Corps for their untiring attention and skillful manner of treating the wounded in their division hospitals. Were it not invidious to designate and particularize by name certain officers when all are worthy, I would give a list of the medical officers who so faithfully performed their duty. This I will not do, but justice to themselves demands that I should mention and particularize Surgs. M. G. Sherman, Ninth Indiana Volunteers; Stephen J. Young, Seventy-ninth Illinois Volunteers; E.B. Glick, Fortieth Indiana Volunteers, and C. N. Ellinwood, Seventy-fourth Illinois Volunteers, as men deserving of more than ordinary notice. Previous to the battles instructions had been given to the surgeons in charge to establish division field hospitals as near to the field as practicable, and strict orders were issued directing the surgeons to operate on the field upon all requiring it, previous to transferring the men to the general hospitals in the city.

The weather, which had entirely stopped all offensive military operations, having moderated considerably, the army on the morning of December 15 marched out beyond the fortifications for the purpose of assaulting the enemy's lines. The medical department of the Army of the Cumberland proper were prepared to attend to any number of wounded brought in to them from the field, and established their hospitals as near the front as the safety of the wounded and the configuration of the country would admit of. Water being quite plenty, position only had to be sought for. The extemporized corps, commanded by Major-General Steedman, had no organized medical staff. This was composed of all the surgeons who could be found unattached, in consequence of being on leave of absence or having been separated from their regiments which had marched from Atlanta with Major-General Sherman. To these were added the medical officers of the U.S. Colored Troops. This portion of the medical staff was under the charge of Surg. Josiah D. Cotton, Ninety-second Ohio Volunteers, who acted as medical director. Though hastily brought together and lacking in all the appurtenances for field hospitals, the medical officers of this command did all in their power to assist and relieve the wounded under their charge. The only great drawback to prompt action in this portion of the army was the entire absence of an ambulance corps. The blockade of the Cumberland River by the rebel batteries had prevented the quartermaster's department from bringing a sufficient number to Nashville. To avoid the want of ambulances as much as possible, every one that could be found in Nashville, no matter in what capacity used, was taken possession of and sent into the field, to be used as circumstances might demand. This, in a manner, served in the place of an ambulance corps, but the want of system and organization was most apparent. The soldiery wounded in the action of the 15th of December were, on the same night, brought into the city and placed in the U.S. general hospitals, where every necessary attention was paid them. Such as had not been operated upon were then examined, and such measures were taken as their cases demanded. The wounded in the action of the 16th of December, 1864, were also brought in and placed in the general hospitals. Some were brought in by ambulances of the corps and some by vehicles, which had been impressed for that purpose. Surg. O. Q. Herrick, Thirty-fourth Illinois Volunteers, superintendent of transportation of sick and wounded, made use of all available means to remove from the field each and every wounded man found there. This was a matter of no little labor, for the scene covered several miles, and wounded men were in every portion of it, and the cavalry wounded even farther distant; yet, by midday of the 17th of December all our wounded were in comfortable hospitals, the recipients of every attention that skill and science could furnish. The pursuit of the enemy entailed, as a necessary consequence, much more labor in the care of the wounded. The railroads were destroyed, and all the wounded had to be transferred by means of ambulances to the hospitals at Franklin, Columbia, and Pulaski. This was done under the supervision of Surg. O. Q. Herrick; and too much praise cannot be given him for his untiring energy and labor in collecting and bringing in from the houses in the vicinity of the line of march the wounded of our own and the rebel army. The cavalry in advance paid but little attention to their wounded, but left them in houses by the roadside, to be cared for by the surgeons of the infantry troops who were following. The Fourth Army Corps carried with them the sick and wounded in ambulances until they arrived where proper hospital accommodations could be furnished. The Sixteenth and Twenty-third Army Corps, not being-in the advance, had no wounded to care for.

In Franklin, Columbia, and Pulaski a large number of rebel wounded were found who had been left by their army. A sufficient number of medical officers had been left with them to give them proper attention. These wounded were, as soon as practicable, transferred in hospital cars to Nashville, where they were placed in one large hospital. The medical officer in charge was directed to furnish them all necessaries and such luxuries as the condition of their wounds required. This was done until the arrival of the Commissary-General of Prisoners, who directed that the wounded rebels should be confined to prison hospital rations. I do not think that it is the intention of the Government to deprive wounded men, rebels though they be, of everything needful for their treatment. Prison hospitals being at a distance from the front, it was not expected that wounded men would be brought there till sufficiently well to travel, when diet would be but a matter of minor import. No surgeon can give good results if he be not allowed to use every article called for by sinking nature and to treat disease untrammeled by orders from non-professional men.

The wounded of our armies who were left at Franklin, Columbia, and Pulaski had medical officers detailed to remain with them until the railroad should have been repaired, when those who could bear transportation were to be removed to Nashville. The necessary supplies were left with the sick and wounded as far as was practicable, but not in such abundance as would have been furnished had the railroad been intact.

The weather during the pursuit was of the most disagreeable character. Rain fell for four successive days, and when this ceased the weather grew severely cold. This was followed by rain, rain, rain, and as a sequence mud. Probably in no part of the war have the men suffered more from inclement weather than in the month of December, 1864, when following Hood's retreating army from Nashville to the Tennessee River. The result of this weather and the hard marching was, as might have been looked for, severe affections of the pulmonary viscera, fevers, rheumatism, and diarrheas, which served to fill the hospitals in this vicinity to their utmost capacity.

The number of men wounded in the actions in front of Nashville will never be correctly furnished, in consequence of the character of some of the troops engaged and their having no organized medical department. The records of this office, as far as furnished, show for the actions from Decatur to Nashville, 402 wounded; in front of Nashville and during the pursuit of the rebels, 1,717 wounded. The wounds were caused by musketry, throwing conoidal projectiles, and by artillery of the latest and most approved character. The wounds were received at all distances, from contact with the muzzle of the piece to the extreme range of artillery and musketry. The character of many of the wounds were of the most severe kind, having been received at short range, consequent upon the peculiarity of the battle, which was a series of charges upon heavily fortified lines held by strong forces of the enemy.

The medical officers of the Army of the Cumberland did in this campaign all that men could do to alleviate the sufferings of the wounded soldiery, and have only added to the envious reputation gained by them on many a former battle-field. They are skillful, zealous, untiring, and faithful, knowing their whole duty and doing it most conscientiously. The medical officers of Sixteenth Corps did their duty well and faithfully, but want of systematic organization crippled their movements most perceptibly.

I will transmit the nominal list of wounded as soon as it can be made out; it will be defective in the Cavalry Corps and in those troops commanded by Major-General Steedman.

Very respectfully, your obedient servant,

GEO. E. COOPER,        

Surg., U.S. Army, Medical Director, Dept. of the Cumberland.

ASST. ADJT. GEN., DEPT. OF THE CUMBERLAND,
        Nashville, Tenn.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 45, Part 1 (Serial No. 93), p. 107-11

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, June 24, 1864

Field Infirmary, near Petersburg, Va.,        

June 24, 1864.

When I wrote to you two days ago I said appearances indicated that we were about to have a fight. Sure enough, about half an hour after I had finished writing the battle began. Our division was engaged. McGowan's Brigade did not suffer much. It supported Wright's Georgia Brigade of Anderson's Division, and, as the men were not engaged, they had the privilege of lying down. Consequently most of the missiles passed over them. The brigade lost only thirty or forty, and the Thirteenth Regiment had but one killed and two wounded

We were very successful. It is estimated that we killed and wounded about two thousand. We captured about the same number and four cannon.

Our loss was about four hundred. We are still in our old position. There was heavy cannonading this morning on our extreme left. If there was any musketry, it was too far for me to hear it. Just as I began to write this letter I had two wounded men to come in. They were hurt by a shell early this morning.

I had my third mess of beans yesterday, and a big one it was too. I shall have rather a poor dinner to-day—only bread, meat and coffee. We have been getting enough coffee and sugar to have it twice a day ever since I got back from home in April.

The weather is becoming very warm and we need rain. It will soon be too hot for military operations.

When you write again tell me all the little particulars about yourself. You do not know how much it interests me.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 100-1

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, October 25, 1864

Near Petersburg, Va.,        

October 25, 1864.

I have a bright fire this morning. There is a nice chimney to my tent, which makes it almost as comfortable as a house. The regiment is on the extreme right of our lines, but is several miles from the field infirmary where I am stationed. The brigades are frequently shifted about, but I trust ours will remain where it is, because there is plenty of wood near by.

Everything is very quiet on the lines. I suppose you have heard of the defeat of General Early again in the Valley. He has not yet gained a single victory worth mentioning, and it is time we had a new commander there. We have a great many good fighters, but so few good generals. I am anxious to hear something from General Hood, for if he can whip Sherman at Atlanta the situation may be entirely changed.

The health of all the men appears to be about as good as if they were at home under shelter and with suitable diet. Our troops seem as happy and lively as men could be, although they get nothing to eat now but bread and meat. We have eaten nearly all the beef Hampton captured recently in rear of Grant's army, but we have received some from North Carolina which is very nice and tender.

Your brother Edwin is to be appointed a lieutenant in the Fourteenth Regiment. I took dinner with him yesterday. Lieutenant Petty, with whom he messes, had just received a box from home, and I fared sumptuously. My box has not yet arrived. Boxes now take about two weeks to reach here. Your brother had received his new suit from home. Billie is well and hearty, but he needs a new coat. These government coats are too thin for exposed duty.

I have a nice little Yankee axe, which is so light that it can be carried in a knapsack, but it just suits a soldier for use in putting up his little shelter tent or for making a fire. All the Yankees have these little axes, and many of our men have supplied themselves with them, as they have with almost everything else the Yankees possess.

Are you making preparations to come out here this winter? Colonel Hunt will have his wife to come out again, and a great many other officers are arranging for their wives to come on soon. Some of them are here already, but I think it best for you to wait until winter puts a stop to military operations. When we left the Rappahannock River last fall some of the officers carried their wives along by having them wrap up well and putting them in the ambulance; and if you were here and we had to move I could easily take you along that way. I want you to come just as soon as circumstances will permit, but this war has taught me to bear with patience those things which cannot be avoided and not to be upset when my wishes cannot be gratified.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 110-2

Diary of 1st Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Monday, September 19, 1864 – Part 9

As I entered the long broad avenue running between the great tents at the field hospital later in the day where there were hundreds of wounded, dead and dying, Dillingham, Hill and others of my regiment, among the number, Dr. J. C. Rutherford, one of my regimental surgeons, seeing me with a man on either side — for here in sight of others I wouldn't let them support me — close to and keenly watching my unsteady carriage, came running, hastily examined my wounds, bade me sit on the ground, ran for his instrument case, placed my head upturned between his knees, sewed in place a triangular piece of flesh extending from the right corner of my nose down hanging at the lower right corner by a slight shred of flesh, which I had held in place from the battlefield with my fingers, and that job for the time being was done; but oh! my aching head, jaws and chest, as well as the extreme feeling of lassitude for the balance of the day. My face was like a puff ball, so quickly had it swollen, my chest at the point of the wishbone — so to speak — was mangled black and blue and resembled a pounded piece of steak ready to be cooked, and I was so nauseated, lame and sore all over, I dreaded to move. I guess the rebs came pretty near winging me — but Glory! Early was licked. To add to my feeling of depression, I was told Major Dillingham was mortally wounded and that he would soon pass away. He had been a good friend, a brave man, faultlessly courageous, was an elegant gentleman and good fellow, and was much beloved. A solid shot severed a leg going through the woods; his cry of anguish was distressing, and I shrink from thinking of it whenever it comes into my mind.

I fell just in front of the enemy's hastily thrown up breastworks of fence rails in the vanguard after advancing under a murderous fire about a hundred yards or more, in the open field after passing through the woods. I saw no other line officer with his men anywhere in my vicinity so far in front, and there was no other officer there in the open field except Adjutant Wyllys Lyman who was lauded for it, but I, being a boy, got nothing but my two wounds as compliments for my steadfastness, and they will stay with me through life. I wonder if when across the Great River and in another world I will be remembered any better for my faithfulness when so many others failed at such an important moment?*

I found the men of Company E good fighters, Corporal Walker and another big man of my Company whose name I can't recall, being so short a time with the Company — but believe it was one of the Brownells, also of Pownal, Vt. — who helped me occasionally going to the ambulance as I felt faint and weak, were brave fellows. They followed me closely all through the assault as though they expected me to be hit, fighting like heroes as they were at the same time, and when I fell wounded they dropped close by me, Corporal Walker, a giant, coolly saying: “Don't get up Lieutenant, they’ll riddle you if you do!” but I thought they already had. However, the nervous shock of both wounds was too great to think of rising at once, and almost immediately the rebs were running for dear life all branches of the service mixed together in confusion — a perfect jumble. We had licked them in a square stand up open field fight of their own choice — and a very poor one, too, for them in case of defeat, as it proved — and it was clean cut, the worst stampede and rout I every saw.

Sheridan was as brave as a lion, and unlike some commanders who hunt cover when their commands are fighting, went seemingly fearlessly anywhere he wanted to in order to see what was going on and what if any part of the line needed reinforcing. As before stated, my position on the battlefield was sufficiently high to see nearly all of it. It being a beautiful sunny Fall day with a clear atmosphere, it was the most spectacular, and before the Infantry broke, the most beautiful battlefield sight seen, and better yet, the most snappy, brilliant fighting witnessed during the war. Sheridan hovered near the centre in the neighborhood of the high ground where I was twice wounded, and dashed back and forth the line on horseback like a restless lion, an ideally alert fighter, almost as unmindful of shot and shell as though both deaf and blind. It was here that I formed my opinion that he was not only the ideal fighter, but the second, if not the greatest military genius developed by the Civil War, and I have never changed my opinion. Honest, alert, aggressive, dashing and brave with splendid judgment, his equal will be hard to find, and probably rarely surpassed. He was generally conceded a brilliant cavalry fighter, but if the world has ever produced a better planned, executed, dashing, brilliant spectacular, snappy battle or commander than he and this Battle of Winchester, where the different branches of the service were combined, take it from first to last during the day, it would be interesting to know on what occasion. It was so unlike any battle ever seen by me that all others sink into insignificance as dull affairs. Language or words even with the most gifted talkers or writers can never describe this battle; no pen picture, or ever so gifted talker can do it justice; it would have to be seen by an expert to be fully appreciated. Ever afterwards the Sixth Corps of all others was Sheridan's favorite. Said he later: “Give me the Sixth Corps and I will charge anywhere.”

Among the most admirable pictures of the fight — barring the orderly, majestic advance to battle of the whole army in unbroken lines — except after a little our division being unmercifully shelled from the start on the pike it could not withstand it, nor could any other have done so — as a whole after through the wood resembling an immense gracefully waving blue ribbon along the surface of the ground, caused by that enchantingly swinging, billowy motion characteristic of regulars when marching in large bodies, its fluttering banners, glittering arms, equipments and its blue uniforms looking prettier than ever in the bright September sunlight under a bright blue sky specked with fleecy white clouds making a picture beautiful with perfect harmony of color,—was the beauty, grandeur and majesty of both Russell and Custer's splendid debouch on the battlefield with their valiant, intrepid commands, the former's proudly and majestically en masse in perfect order and cadence, line and bearing, coolly confident as though at parade, and the latter's also in perfect lines and order, as well as dashing, intrepid, spirited and assured bearing even the horses as though vieing with each other in speed to run down the unfortunate enemy, entering into the spirit of the occasion and sweeping rapidly like an avalanche down on the demoralized, fleeing and awe-stricken enemy with the fury and apparently almost certain destruction of a tornado. These were pictures comprising awe, beauty, power, grandeur, order and disorder, dash, magnificence, valor, terror, confusion, inspiration and majesty to such an extent as to defy the pen picture of any writer however gifted. This battle was different from any other I ever saw. It was Sheridan's way of doing things—a revelation in warfare.

_______________

* Major Lyman was afterwards honored with a brevet as Major, but I was only mentioned in routine official papers as wounded. Why he, being Adjutant, and therefore representing the regimental commander, and the only officer who saw me, didn't see to it that my services were duly recognized as well as his, I have never been able to understand. It always stirs my spirit when I think of it, for if anyone deserved recognition for that day's work it was the leaders in such an assault, for on such largely depended its success; and certainly if Lyman deserved recognition who had no command, then why shouldn't one who did, whose men largely followed him, as well as some of the men of five other companies which I had successfully led in other fights? It is hard to be reconciled to such unfair discriminations. But brevets in many regiments were quite as apt to be given for scheming and favoritism as for merit, and some of the most meritorious line officers who fought gallantly on the front line of battle through almost the entire war, received no such recognition from their regimental commanders, although such line officers' exhibitions of dash and daring, especially in the Tenth Vermont, which was one thing that gave the regiment an enviable reputation both in the field and at home, were very frequent. The company commanders of this regiment did not follow their men into battle, at any rate to commence with, but led them continually when fleet enough to do so, and I always did. Being almost invariably selected when a lieutenant to command a company without an officer, I was with one exception alone with no company commander to observe and report my work, and my different regimental commanders didn't take sufficient interest to do so, even if where they could observe it; but the fact that I was almost invariably selected to command different companies in battle when needed and that I overslaughed several lieutenants when promoted Captain, should have been reason enough for at least one brevet during the war, if nothing more, which since, in the regular army, would have saved me from frequent undeserved embarrassment. A long experience, however, both in the Civil War and the regular army since in the observance of the bestowal of brevets and medals of honor has caused me to regard with very little respect in many instances the recipient's methods in obtaining such favors, and especially the system of bestowal of the same, which is a sacred trust. And certainly if in most cases such consideration was warranted, then many of my acquaintances who were not recognized even once, especially in the Civil War, could have been repeatedly decorated with the far greater propriety. But with me such distinctions were not worth having except earned in the estimation of others competent to judge, and came unsolicited. Such, however, is rarely the case, even when repeatedly deservedly won, and the only reward for such is to tell the truth about it historically whenever the opportunity offers, regardless of criticism.

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 168-75

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Thursday, May 5, 1864

Pleasant and warm; remained at the fort until about 8 o'clock a. m. waiting for General Burnside's forces to relieve us, and then marched about two miles up the plank road and formed line of battle in a piece of woods to the right of the road; remained here until noon when Burnside's corps again came up and occupied our line when we pushed on to the front passing many corralled and moving army trains, and through the outskirts of the field hospital near the right of our army's infantry line of battle until we struck the Orange turnpike when we turned to the right and followed it some distance until near enough the enemy to draw the fire of its artillery when seemingly the air was full of solid shot and exploding shells as far each side the pike as could be seen. The road here ran in a straight line ahead of us almost as far as the eye could reach bordered on either side with a dense forest and underbrush which was also being shelled in places. Shortly after, when within shelling distance, the enemy fired a solid shot straight along the pike which tore screeching through the air just a little above the heads of the men in column in our regiment till it struck the pike about midway the regiment, providentially where the men had split and were marching on either side of the road, when it viciously rebounded along the pike lengthwise the column to the great consternation of the men all along the extended column in our own and other regiments. This situation was most trying for every moment I dreaded the effect of a better directed shot which would go destructively through our long column lengthwise and do untold damage.

Soon, however, we turned to the left or southerly into the woods and formed line of battle almost as soon as there was room after leaving the road with the enemy close in our front with a field piece of artillery hardly a hundred yards away through the brush which kept each from seeing the other. Before Captain H. R. Steele had hardly finished dressing his company after forming line a shell from this gun exploded in the ranks of Company K, killing a private and wounding others. The shell had burst actually inside the man completely disemboweling and throwing him high in the air in a rapidly whirling motion above our heads with arms and legs extended until his body fell heavily to the ground with a sickening thud.

I was in the line of file closers hardly two paces away and just behind the man killed. We were covered with blood, fine pieces of flesh, entrails, etc., which makes me cringe and shudder whenever I think of it. The concussion badly stunned me. I was whirled about in the air like a feather, thrown to the ground on my hands and knees — or at least was in that position with my head from the enemy when I became fully conscious — face cut with flying gravel or something else, eyes, mouth and ears filled with dirt, and was feeling nauseated from the shakeup. Most of the others affected went to the hospital, and I wanted to but didn't give up. I feared being accused of trying to get out of a fight.

The Division Commander and staff were about three hundred yards more or less, behind us in direct line with this gun that was shelling us. Another shell from it which went screeching close over us — for we immediately after the first shot lay flat on the ground — disemboweled Captain G. B. Damon's horse of the Tenth Vermont on the Division staff, on which he was mounted, and killed two others. This party could be seen from where I was in line plainly. I was surprised at the quickness with which Company K got into line again after being so disrupted by the exploding shell in its ranks.

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 42-5

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Friday, September 23, 1864

I helped to move the field hospital into town this morning. Most of the wounded able to go, have been sent home on thirty-day furloughs, and some of the sick will also go soon. There is no news from Grant's army. I received a letter this morning from Miss G–––. I received my knapsack and equipments and bidding good-by, left for Atlanta, Georgia. There was a squad of one hundred and seventy-five of us and we started at noon, going as far as Kingston, where we lay awaiting a train from the North. We left Kingston soon after dark.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 216

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Thursday, September 22, 1864

It is still raining, which makes the third day's rain. My ward was broken up today and the sick boys were transferred to Ward D in hospital number 4. We worked all afternoon making the ward ready for the wounded from the field hospital. I tried to get permission to return to my regiment today, but the doctor would not let me go. But all who are able, if not needed here, are to be sent to the front tomorrow.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 216

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Friday, September 9, 1864

It is clear and quite warm. The constant shifting of the sick and wounded men makes a great deal of work for the convalescents here. They are planning to close the hospitals here as soon as possible and the hospital equipment will be shipped either to Chattanooga or Nashville until needed. The field hospital at Atlanta is all that will be needed

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 214

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Thursday, August 11, 1864

A train loaded with sick and wounded came in this afternoon from the front. Some of our convalescents had to give up their cots to the sick, and go out to the field hospital, where they will occupy tents.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 209

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Tuesday, August 9, 1864

A train loaded with wounded came in last night from Marietta, Georgia, and they were sent out to the field hospital east of town.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 209

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Sunday, July 17, 1864

The same as ever. Am still in the hospital, but getting some better, and I am very thankful, for it is very disagreeable to lie sick in a field hospital. We have soldiers for nurses, and though they are convalescents, yet they are strong enough to care for the sick and wounded. They are glad to do everything possible for their comrades.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 205

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Tuesday, July 12, 1864

I was taken with the other sick and the wounded to Rome, to the field hospital of the Fifteenth, Sixteenth and Seventeenth Army Corps. We left Marietta at 10 a. m. and arrived at Rome at 6 p. m. No news.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 205

Diary of Corporal Alexander G. Downing: Saturday, July 2, 1864

All the sick have been removed to the field hospital in the rear of the army. I was brought here to our division field hospital, near Big Shanty, with a few others. Our army supplies at Big Shanty have been removed by the general quartermaster, as the army has been ordered around to the right. The Fifteenth, Sixteenth and Seventeenth Corps are leaving the left flank altogether, and are hastening to the right wing. The rebels have now left Kenesaw mountain and Marietta and have moved around to their left so as to keep our right from flanking them.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 202-3

Diary of Private Charles H. Lynch: June 5, 1864

Late last night our company detailed for picket duty. Located at the ford, near the town. It was a fearful, dark, rainy night. Every man was on duty and on the alert all night. By order of General Hunter a large woolen mill was burned this morning. I noticed a number of women were crying as the mill burned. It had been used to make cloth for the South. Death and destruction follows in the path of war. This is a quiet Sunday morning in old Connecticut. Here a battle is about to begin. Came off picket, ordered to join the regiment. After a forced march, about six miles, overtook the regiment, taking our position in the line. Soon skirmish firing began and grew hot. Our boys driving the Rebs as we advanced. About 7 A. M. the enemy opened fire on our line with batteries well posted on high hills, distance about two miles, getting range on our colors. At the time we were advancing by division front, when the shells began to come lively. Our Colonel's voice rang out clear “By division, into line, right and left, half wheel, forward, double quick.” The command was quickly executed as the regiment advanced in line through the open lots, taking the extreme right of the line of battle. We could plainly see all that was taking place in the open country. The enemy's line of battle was formed in a wooded field at the top of the highest hills. We were forced to jump brooks, some quite wide, and climb over fences, all this time under fire. We could not return the fire because of our skirmish line in our front, between us and the enemy.

Reaching the foot of the hill on which the enemy was posted, we were ordered to crawl up it on our hands and knees. Reaching the brow we were ordered to rise, at the same time the enemy poured a deadly volley into our ranks. A number fell, and the stock of my gun was shot off. As we started on a charge for the enemy in the woods they broke and ran. As we poured a sharp fire into their ranks, they left their first line of earthworks and fell back to the second. We continued the charge on through the woods, coming out into an open lot. Our Colonel being mounted, saw the second line of earthworks in the edge of another wooded field, commanded a halt, which was done after a while. Then we were ordered to fall back and re-form in the edge of the woods and to wait for orders. My gun having been shot and no good, I picked up another one on the field. I was very sorry to lose the old musket. A number of our boys had fallen. The enemy was strongly posted on another hill across an open field which we must charge through in order to get at them.

Orders came for us to take their works. A charge was again ordered, but we were ordered to fall back and reform. Another attempt was made to capture the works. Owing to our heavy loss the Colonel ordered us to fall back. Our regiment was holding the extreme right of the line. In the second charge across the field a bullet pierced my tin coffee cup, hanging on my haversack, making, as the boys said, two close calls for me. After the second charge our Colonel called for a battery, posted it in a good position on our right, where it did great execution. The enemy attempted to take the battery but we drove them back. A third charge was ordered across the open field. We were again obliged to fall back. The enemy's fire was too hot for us and we were losing many good fellows. In the third charge the colors went to the ground, the corporal of the color-guard, who was carrying them, being shot down. I jumped and picked up the flag, waving it and holding it up.

Later, orders came to prepare for another charge on the enemy's earth works. A desperate effort must be made to capture those works. As a signal, a cheer would ring out from the left of the line, extending to the right, for the entire length of the line, to charge. It was quickly done and the battle was won.

The enemy threw down their arms and were prisoners. In the fourth and final charge, the Confederate commander, Major General Wm. E. Jones, was killed. He was known as Billy Jones. I saw the dead commander lying on the field, he having been shot through the forehead. I also saw the flag of truce when the Confederates came for the body. I spoke to the escort, they telling me who the dead General was.

The day had been a long, hard one. We were under fire from 7 A. M. to 5 P. M. Sorrow came to us over our loss, but we must have something to eat in order to keep up. I carried several canteens over to the Shenandoah River, filled them. On my return I stopped to see a young wounded Confederate. Bathed his wound on his foot with the water from my own canteen. He thanked me kindly as he lay on the ground, patiently waiting for his turn to be cared for. After having rations I picked up a few blankets, visited the field hospital, and covered our boys over with them, as the nights were cool. It was a sickening sight to me. No more desire to visit a field hospital after a battle. I made my way back to our company in the dark. Lay down on the battle field for the night, for rest and sleep. Dead and wounded around us.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 68-70

Diary of Private Charles H. Lynch: August 15, 1863

A field hospital and camp was established to the north on the Chambersburg road, about two miles from town. A fine location. Plenty of good, clear, running water. The change was not only good for us but very beneficial to all the prisoners, and they enjoyed it very much. Good air and grounds for them to walk about. A provost guard was on duty in town to preserve the peace and protect the town. We were on the alert all the time. Reports of cavalry raids from Virginia into Maryland caused us to turn out in the night and double the line of pickets on the road to Williamsport, near the ford crossing the Potomac. We have very pleasant recollections of Hagerstown. Nothing very serious happened while we were there. Some of the people were very strongly in sympathy with the South. The 4th Connecticut Regiment was at that town a year before we were. They left a good impression there and were well spoken of by the people. We became well acquainted in Hagerstown and vicinity. We traded with farmers coffee, sugar, and hardtack, for eggs, butter, and vegetables. We lived well at that place. All things come to an end. Marching orders received. The prisoners were ordered to be sent to Chambersburg, Penn. At this camp we conquered the army of the pedicules, and became free of the pest.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 28-9

Diary of Alexander G. Downing: Saturday, July 25, 1863

Our brigade returned to the bridge and went into camp, with Colonel Chambers in command of the entire post. Our army field hospital is located here and the convalescents are being cared for in it. Refugees by the thousands are at this place and are still pouring in by the hundreds from every direction, ahead of Sherman's returning army. It is a wonderful sight to see; they are of all colors and ages, though mostly women and children. I bought a gold pen today from the sutler for $2.00, and had the misfortune to lose it before night.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 131

Diary of Alexander G. Downing: Saturday, May 23, 1863

We started this morning at daylight and marched five miles to General McPherson's headquarters at the center of the army. Here we lay until 4 o'clock in the afternoon, when we marched back to our old place on the extreme left. The rebels again commenced to shell us, but the shells went over our heads. The Eleventh Iowa went on picket. Our men are shelling the rebels from all sides, and they are falling back behind their fortifications. When passing the headquarters of the Seventeenth Army Corps today, I saw a most dreadful sight at the field hospital; there was a pile, all that a six-mule team could haul, of legs and arms thrown from the amputating tables in a shed nearby, where the wounded were being cared for.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 117

From Camp near Corinth

We are in receipt of a letter some thirteen pages in length from a “Camp near Corinth” correspondent, giving us the details of the brilliant and successful charge of the Iowa 2d cavalry , in rescuing Paine’s division form the tight place in which they had gotten themselves, but adventuring too close to the enemy.  As our correspondent “Diff.” has given us full particulars we are obliged to rule out our friend’s favor, but thank him just as kindly for his attention.  As his letter is one day later that that published on Saturday, we give the concluding portion, testifying to the uncomplaining disposition of our Iowa boys, even when severely wounded:

Two or three of the wounded came in three miles on horseback, each with a foot almost severed at the ankle, yet sitting upright in the saddle and frequently making some careless remark, or threatening vengeance the next time they met the “secesh.”  Two poor fellows, which I now have the care of, were each shot through the right ankle, and apparently by a large grape shot or small cannon ball.  It was a sickening sight to see their limbs amputated, yet wonderful to observe how bravely they stood the operation.  I was with them till midnight, and have been all day long to-day, and am now sitting between their cots, writing, as they are sleeping tranquilly.  One poor man received his mortal wound, and died to-day noon, and I was told that only a few hours before he died he sat propped up in his cot and wrote a letter to his wife.

It is truly wonderful, how patiently our wounded men bear their pains, and how uncomplainingly they submit to the most painful surgical operations.  If any doubt that Iowa has brave sons, let them come and see them fight, or view them lying in the hospital tent, and convince themselves of the fact.

To-day a secesh deserter came into our camp, and told his story, the purport of which was, that, although they were last upon the field, and nearly double in number, yet they sustained a greater loss in killed and wounded.  Strange as it may seem, they evacuated their position, which of course our forces now occupy.

SUNDAY, MAY 11. – An attack is expected upon our left flank soon; and when I awoke this morning, the boys had their horses saddled, ready to start for the conflict at a moment’s notice.  Another deserter, just come in, says that Beauregard lately made a speech in which he seemed confident that he could, with 120,000 men he claimed, whip us. – Perhaps he can, but I don’t believe it.

Yours, &c.

B.

– Published in The Davenport Daily Gazette, Davenport, Iowa, Monday Morning, May 19, 1862, p. 1

Diary of Alexander G. Downing: Sunday, October 5, 1862

The entire Sixth Division, taking up the line of march² this morning at 6 o'clock, marched five miles and then formed a line of battle. We heard some very heavy cannonading out on the Hatchie river, in our front. General Hurlbut had cut off the retreat of the rebels at the bridge crossing the river, but after a hard fight they got away and continued their retreat to the south, on the east side of the river. We resumed our march at 1 p. m. and after covering ten miles stopped for the night. The Second Iowa Cavalry was ordered back to Corinth.

__________

² As we passed the field hospital of the Confederates on the Corinth battlefield, we saw eighteen of their dead, evidently having died from wounds, lying side by side, and almost black in the face, which at the time was said to have been caused by their drinking a mixture of water, vinegar and gunpowder. Our army had barrels of vinegar, one for each regiment, so stationed as to permit the men to come and help themselves. Now, our quartermaster, in hastily removing the commissary's supplies back of the inner lines during the battle, had, for lack of facilities, left standing these barrels of vinegar. It is supposed that the Confederates took the vinegar and made a drink of it, for after the battle there was no vinegar to be found. — A. G. D.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 73-4

Zollicoffer's Defeat

Vivid Description of the Battle Field.

(Correspondence Cincinnati Commercial.)

A Ride to the Battle – The Battle Ground – Scenes on the Battle Field – Pursuit of the Enemy – The Rebel Camp – The Property Taken – One Hundred and Ninety Rebels Buried.

Having seen many accounts of the battle of Webb’s Cross Roads, (variously called the battle of Fishing Creek, Old Fields, Somerset, and Mill Springs,) it would seem hardly necessary to chronicle any further relative to it.  But as this is the first battle field I visited before the dead and wounded were removed, I feel disposed to make a note of some of my experiences connected with it.

During two weeks prior to the engagement, I was at Somerset, attending to some business matters for the Twelfth Kentucky Regiment. – All this time, much anxiety was felt by the forces under General Thomas, so that an advance could be made upon the fortified position of Zollicoffer, at Mill Springs.  The welcome tidings finally reached us Friday morning, Jan. 17th, that Gen. Thomas was at Webb’s Cross Roads, seven and a half miles west, or south west of Somerset, with 6,000 men and, before 11 o’clock a. m., Schoepff’s brigade was under way to join them.  The difficulties of that march through rain and mud, have been better described by those who were in it than I can do it.  That Zollicoffer would come out of his entrenchments and attack our forces was entirely unexpected – consequently no battle was looked for this side of his position at Mill Springs.

Early on Sunday morning, January 19th, we heard the roar of cannon beyond fishing creek, which betokened a battle.  Like many younger men I felt “eager for the fray.”  Lieut. Colonel Howard, of the Kentucky 12th, being confined to his bed by sickness, I mounted his well known charger, “Nelly Gray,” and went to fill his place, or rather to try.  The distance from Somerset to the Salt works on Fishing Creek, where we crossed, is five miles.  The mud, a kind of reddish clay and very soft, was from six inches to half as many feet in depth.  I fell in with a squadron of Wolford’s Cavalry, escorting six caissons of ammunition, each caisson being drawn by eight horses, driven by for riders.  There were also in the company thirty six relief horses in harness, for Standart’s Battery, which was already on the ground.  To see this train in motion while the horses were pressed to the top of their speed, could be compared to nothing better than a wild tornado, accompanied by a halt a dozen whirlwinds playing with the mud as though it were the chaff of a threshing floor, obscuring at times the caissons, horses and riders.  The cavalcade reached the high bank overlooking Fishing Creek, in about twenty minutes from Somerset, and came to a halt.  The Creek was so high that it was said it could not be forded or at least the ammunition would be spoiled in passing through.  In addition to this a frightened wagon-master reported that Zollicoffer’s forces had got between our army and the Creek and thus cut off supplies and reinforcements from Somerset.  During these few moments of suspense, and while the fire of artillery seemed to be increasing I rode down the long steep hill to the water’s edge, determined to cross at all hazards.

While calculating my chances in one of the strongest currents I ever saw forded, a gentle man upon a powerful strong-limbed horse rode up and gave it as his opinion that the creek could be forded.  Being more excited that I was he plunged into the stream.  Without waiting to see how he “came out,” and knowing that mortal horse could not do more than “Nelly Gray,” I followed.  We made the opposite shore in safety.  By this time the whole cavalcade (excepting caissons) had reached the creek, and in a few minutes passed safely over.  We halted with the cavalry in front of widow Campbell’s house (secesh), and sent forward a reconnoitering party.  Soon one of the party returned and reported the road clear.  The distance from Fishing Creek to Webb’s Cross Roads, where our forces had bivouacked the night before the battle, is two and a half miles.  We had made about two miles of this distance, when the artillery ceased firing and soon after we met a man riding furiously down the hill. – When we succeeded in bringing him to a halt, he told us Zollicoffer was dead and his army in full retreat.  This man was hardly recognized by his old acquaintances, for his naked, sparkling eye balls seemed to be the only two spots about him not covered with mud.  It was Dr. Hale.  When he had told us his story, on he flew to tell it to other persecuted Union men.  Zollicoffer is slain, his forces are overthrown, scattered and destroyed!  We are again free!  Men, women and children shouted and even wept for joy.  At that moment I did not wait to moralize for while Dr. Hale was spreading the glad tidings in one direction, Nelly Gray had anticipated the cavalcade in the other, and was first on the battle field.  My first inquiry was for the Kentucky 12th, but no one could tell me where they were, or what party they had taken in the action.  Only one dead man had been brought in.  The body laid upon the ground in front of one of the Minnesota tents surrounded by some twenty soldiers.  It had been stripped of all clothing except the pants and two soldiers were busy in washing off the mud with which it had been covered.  It was almost as white and transparent as the most delicate wax work.  The fatal wound was in the breast, and was evidently made with a pistol ball as it could be easily covered with the end of my finger.  There was another wound upon the inside of his right arm, above the elbow, and still another glancing wound a little above his hip.  This was Zollicoffer!  He whose name had so long been a terror to men who loved their country on the banks of the Cumberland.  With some doubts at the time in my mind as to whether this was really the body of the rebel chief, I turned away to visit the field of battle.

The hospital tents had been hastily pitched in a small open field at the cross roads and along the edge of the woods skirting the south side of this field were the first marks of the storm of destruction which had waged so fearfully an hour before.  Nearly through the middle of the field is the road leading to Mill Springs, in a south or southwesterly direction.  I entered the woods on the east side of this road.  All along the edge of the open field lay the bodies of four or five of our men.  As I advanced into the woods the marks of cannon shot could be seen on every side, but I saw none of these marks nearer than twenty feet from the ground nor did I see a dead or wounded man who had been struck with a cannon shot, Dr. Cliffe, Zollicoffer’s brigade surgeon, afterwards told me that among all their wounded, so far as they had come in, only one had been injured by artillery and he had lost his arm.  Passing through the woods from the first open field, a distance of nearly half a mile, we reached another open, half cleared field on the left of the road.  In this field there stands some deadened timber, many large stumps and trees, some of the latter having been cut down, and some fallen from decay.  In this field the ground is quite steep, with a southern descent to near the center of the field, and then rises as rapidly till you reach the woods on the south.  In the eastern part of this field is a log house and a barn and an apple orchard.  Eighty five dead rebels lay in this field, which by way of distinction, I will call the “old field.”  Further on and to the right of the road is the cornfield where the brave Indiana 10th suffered so severely.  In the woods and along the road the scene was dreadful. – One body was placed in a sitting posture with the back leaning against a tree, the hands crossed in his lap, his eyes partially open and lips slightly parted.  The ball had entered his left breast just above the region of the heart.  Another laid upon his side with the head and arms thrown back, the ball had cut away a part of his skull over his left eye.

Among a score or more of our own noble dead, I saw not one badly mangled body, like those which I saw at Vienna.  And I loved, also, to fancy at least, that I saw clearly stamped upon each cold face a clam and holy satisfaction in pouring out their blood in a noble cause – to save from ruin the land of our fathers.  There are mothers, wives and sisters, who would gladly have braved the leaden hailstorm of the battle field, to minister to the dying soldier.  Let such console themselves – that death is a common lot, and far more preferable in any form, to life in a land of despotism and anarchy.  The cause in which your husband, brothers and sons have fallen is not a cause of wickedness and oppression, but of truth, freedom and right.  The fields of Kentucky have been freshly watered with hallowed blood, and the pirates are being hunted from her borders.  My own brave boy was either among the slain or pursuing the flying foe.  In which of these positions I might find him, I know not.  I could possibly enjoy no higher honor than in the sacrifice of all I held dear, for the salvation of my country.  With all the anxieties common to parents, I searched for his well known countenance among the slain.  So close was the resemblance in many cases that my pulse quickened and my brain began to reel.  I remembered that he wore a pair of boots of peculiar make, and before I dared to let my eyes rest upon the face, there was a mark –  not on his.  I passed on in haste, but suddenly felt compelled to stop once more, against a tree, leaned back in the more classic composure was the fairest and most beautiful countenance I ever saw in death.  No female complexion could be more spotless.  The silky locks of wavy auburn hair fell in rich profusion, upon fair temples and a faultless forehead.  Some friendly hand had parted his garments, bearing his breast, from which the read current of life flowed out, and had bathed his temples, which were still warm but had ceased to throb forever.  O, ye winds, bear these tidings softly to the loved ones at home.

Among the wounded of our men, it was really comforting to see with what patient heroism they bore their pains.  I said to one poor fellow, with a shattered leg, “you must be in great pain, can I do anything for you?”  He said, “There are others worse off than me, when they are carried in, you can tell them where I am if you please.”  Another man had a ball through his right hand, breaking two of the bones.  He had done it up himself with a wet bandage and with his other hand was carrying one corner of a stretcher, with a wounded man, carrying another corner of the same stretcher, was a man with his head and face covered with blood.  He said he was not hurt at all, he had only lost a large piece of his hat and a small piece of his scalp.

In the “old fields” among the rebels some of the scenes were horrid and revolting in the extreme.  A large number of the dead were shot in the head.  One was shot directly in the eye and the brain was oozing from the wound.  Five dead and one wounded lay behind one log, all but the wounded one were shot in the head.  One rebel had a ball through his neck which destroyed the power of speech – though I don’t think his wound was mortal.  Several of the dead were old and gray headed men.  A dark complexioned man with a heavy black beard, who said he was from Mississippi was lying on the ground with a broken thigh.  He was stern and sullen – he had only one favor to ask – that was that some one of us would kill him.  I said to him we will soon take you to the surgeon and do all we can to relieve you for we are satisfied you have been deceived by wicked men, and do not know what you have been doing.  To which he meekly replied – that is possible.  A younger man, quite a boy, begged me not to let the Lincolnites kill him.  An elderly man sat with his back against a stump with a ball directly through the center of the head at the base of the brain.  There was a ghastly grin upon his countenance, his eyes were stretched widely open and staring wildly into vacancy while his breath was rapid, deep and heavy.  His was a living death for he was senseless.  A lad of fourteen with a mashed ankle, protested his innocence and begged to be taken care of.  He said he had never fired a gun at a Union man and never would.  Numbers of rebels made in effect the same declaration.

I left these fields of human suffering with feelings such as I never before experienced. – The freshness of death seemed to fill the whole atmosphere.  It was a scene which a man needs only to look upon once in his life time in order to occupy all his power of reflection.  Following the wake of our victorious and pursuing army the road, adjoining the fields and woods, were strewn with blankets, knapsacks, haversacks, hats, boots, shoes, guns, cartridge boxes, broken wagons, &c., as perfect a scene of destruction as can well be imagined.

When I left on Thursday evening Col. Hoskins told me the captured horses and mules would probably reach 2,000.  Prisoners were being brought in in little squads, and Capt. Alexander, of Wolford’s cavalry reported that he had 200 penned up in the rocks two miles below their camp.  Crittenden’s entire force (except himself) consisting of about 2,000 men, are supposed to be on this side of the river.

I returned from the rebel camp in company with Dr. Straw and his prisoner, Dr. D. B. Cliffe, of Franklin, Tenn., Zollicoffer’s brigade Surgeon.  Dr. Cliffe seems much of a gentleman and claims to be a Union man.  He says he had to enlist or quit the country, but he had never taken the oath of allegiance to the Southern Confederacy.  He confirmed the news of the death of Zollicoffer, and cut several sticks and limbs, as mementoes from near the place where he fell.  Besides Dr. Cliffe, I saw several other prisoners who seem to be gentlemen, but the mass of them were rough hard unpolished subjects – just such a set as one would be likely to judge “fit for treason, stratagem and spoils.”

I have only noted such items as came under my own observation and comparatively only a few of them.  The order of battle and acts of personal bravery will be better told by those who witnessed them.  Lieut. E. G. Jacobs told me he saw a Minnesotian coolly advance from the ranks some distance, and placing his rifle by the side of a tree take a long and deliberate aim toward the old log house, when a rebel head which had been peering from behind the corner of the house was suddenly discovered to have a body attached to it by its pitching at full length from the end of the house.  I found seven dead bodies in this old building who must have been killed by close shooting between the logs.  When I left 190 rebels had been buried in the old field, and many more still in the woods.  Thirty eight of our own men had been buried in the first field near the tents.

C. T.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, February 1, 1862, p. 4