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, August 8, 1864

Near Chaffin's Bluff, on James River, Va.,        

August 8, 1864.

The weather for the last few days has been intensely hot. It is very dry, and I hope we shall soon have some rain. My health is excellent. We get plenty of blackberries, and all we need is plenty of sugar to go with them.

I expect we shall soon go back to Petersburg, but I am informed that Kershaw's Brigade and several thousand cavalry have left for the Valley. This indicates that the seat of war may soon be around Washington instead of Richmond. I hope we will not be sent to the Valley again, for I detest those tedious marches. However, I am willing to do anything to whip out the Yankees.

Matters are comparatively quiet at present, although we hear more or less cannonading somewhere every day. At this moment I hear the booming of cannon away down on the James River. We are so quiet now that we have nothing to think about but home and our loved ones.

Word was sent from the headquarters of Wilcox's Brigade to McGowan's that a negro was captured at Petersburg the day Grant's mine was sprung (July 30), who claims to belong to a medical officer of McGowan's Brigade. On the provost marshal's register is the name of "William Wilson of New York.” He always claimed that to be his name. I believe it may be my servant, Wilson. If so, the remarkable part of it is that he was captured charging on our breastworks. If I get him, I shall regard him as something of a curiosity in the future.

I received more pay on the 5th, and will send you one or two hundred dollars. I sent Bob the ten dollars for your catskin shoes. I bought an excellent pair of pants from the quartermaster for $12.50. They are made of merino wool. We shall soon have some fine gray cloth issued to the brigade for officers' uniforms. There will not be enough for all, so we will draw lots for it. If I am lucky enough to get any, I will send it to you.

I am very anxious to get a long letter from you giving me all the news. When I can hear from you regularly and know that you are safe and well, I feel satisfied.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 103-5

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, May 7, 1864

Wilderness,

May 7, 1864.

On the 5th we marched all day on the plank road from Orange Court House to this place. We got into a hard fight on the left of the road rather late in the afternoon. The fighting was desperate for two or three hours, with the least cannonading I have ever heard in a battle. I suppose this was due to the level country and the thick undergrowth. It is low, flat and entirely unfit for cultivation.

After night Major Hammond rode up to where we doctors were and told us that about two miles to the rear there was a poor Yankee who was badly wounded. He insisted that someone of us go back to help him. I went, and found him paralyzed from a shot in the back. I gave him water and morphine, and made him comfortable as best I could. The poor fellow seemed very grateful.

After I returned to our lines the order came to move back with our medical stores to Orange Court House. We marched nearly all night, but just before day we were ordered back to the Wilderness again, and we reached there soon after sunrise. Longstreet came up about this time, having made a forced march all night. Then the fighting began in earnest-continuing fearful and desperate all day. The tremendous roar of the artillery and the rattle of the musketry seemed to make the woods tremble.

Late in the afternoon of this day I went among the wounded of the Third Regiment South Carolina Volunteers and of the Yankees who had fallen into our hands. As usual on such occasions groans and cries met me from every side. I found Colonel James Nance, my old schoolmate, and Colonel Gaillard of Fairfield lying side by side in death. Near them lay Warren Peterson, with a shattered thigh-bone, and still others who were my friends. Many of the enemy were there. Not far from these was an old man, a Yankee officer, mortally wounded. I learned that he was Brigadier-General Wadsworth, once Governor of New York.

I picked up an excellent Yankee overcoat on the battlefield, but the cape is off. I will have a sack coat made of it. I also found an India rubber cloth that is big enough for four men to lie on or to make a tent of. I have never before seen a battlefield so strewn with overcoats, knapsacks, India rubber cloths and everything else soldiers carry, except at Chancellorsville. The dead Yankees are everywhere. I have never before seen woods so completely riddled with bullets. At one place the battle raged among chinquapin bushes. All the bark was knocked off and the bushes are literally torn to pieces.

Tell Bob that as soon as I draw some of the new issue I will send him the pay for your catskin shoes.

[NOTE.—After two days of hard fighting at the Wilderness and the same at Spottsylvania, and failing to break through the Confederate lines, General Grant decided to make one more determined effort by concentrating in front of the angle in the Confederate breastworks. About daylight on May 12 a desperate charge was made upon this angle, which was occupied by General Bradley T. Johnson of Maryland. This overwhelming charge by the enemy was too much, and the Confederates were borne down, and General Johnson and his command of four thousand men and twenty pieces of artillery were captured. General Lee was in the rear with a reserve force, consisting of McGowan's South Carolina Brigade and some Mississippians, whom he rushed forward, and they reoccupied the angle. The Federals jumped back over the works, but did not retreat, and, after fighting all day and a greater part of the night, both sides were utterly exhausted, and ceased. A large oak standing on the works was cut down by bullets alone.]

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 93-6

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, May 13, 1864

Field Hospital near Spottsylvania Court House, Va.,

May 13, 1864.

When I wrote to you on the 7th instant I thought our fighting was over, for we had driven the Yankees off the field at the Wilderness and they had refused to attack us again; but we had another big fight with them the next day (8th instant) near this place. Then on the 10th another big fight here, and then one again yesterday that was the most terrific battle I have ever witnessed. The musketry and cannon continued from daybreak until night. Nothing that I have ever before heard compared with it. We were behind breastworks, but the Yankees charged into them in many places, fighting with the greatest determination, and it strained us to the utmost to hold our own. Such musketry I never heard before, and it continued all night, engaged with our brigade. It was perfectly fearful. I never experienced such anxiety in my life. It was an awful day, and it seemed to me as if all the “Furies of Darkness" had come together in combat. Everybody who was not firing was pale with anxiety, but our noble soldiers stood their ground, fighting with the utmost desperation.

The Yanks certainly tried their best yesterday, and they made us try our best too. It was the most desperate struggle of the war. I do not know that it is ended, but we have quiet to-day. I have not heard, but I hope the Yankees are gone and that I shall never again witness such a terrible day as yesterday was.

My brother passed through it all untouched. His company lost four killed, besides many wounded. John Landrum was killed and Scott Allen badly wounded. Mrs. Miriam Hunter's husband is mortally wounded. General Abner Perrin was killed, Colonel Brockman lost his arm, Captain McFall his eye, and General McGowan was severely wounded in the arm. This makes the fifth time he has been wounded. You will see all about it in the papers. I saw your brother Edwin yesterday. He was well, but, like everyone else, very anxious.

I will try to write you a longer letter when my mind gets settled.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 96-7

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, May 9, 1863

Camp near Moss Neck, Va.,        

May 9, 1863.

On Saturday morning (the 2d inst.) I received an order to ship the wounded to Richmond, store our medical supplies and follow the wagon train to Chancellorsville. I carried the chest of supplies to a large house, which Stonewall Jackson had for his headquarters, and was met at the door by a young lady who was whistling. She appeared to be quite aristocratic and was very courteous to us.

We started late in the afternoon, and I marched with the wagon train all night. It was carrying rations and did not stop once. Most of the road was through woods, but we could see well enough to march all night, and in some places there was mud, but no wagon stalled.

Just before daylight I saw a dead Yankee lying close to the right of the road. I did not know until then that there had been any fighting. I knew our command left that morning, but had heard no firing and knew nothing of what had taken place. Just as it was getting light the Yankees threw shells, which burst about the wagons, and the teamsters became excited and began whipping their horses and hurrying to get away; but a quartermaster at once commanded them to keep quiet and get away in good order, and the excitement ceased. The fighting then began just as soon as they could see.

I went on hunting for the field infirmary, and when I found it our wounded were coming back and a few had been brought back before I got there, and I at once went to work assisting in amputations, and continued at it all day and until late at night.

Jackson's men came in from the rear on Saturday night and drove the Yankees from their breastworks and occupied them that morning (Sunday, May 3). The Yankees came back early and tried to retake them, and I could hear them fighting furiously for several hours. We knew nothing of Stonewall Jackson's being shot the night before.

During the assault Colonel Edwards walked along on top of the works waving his sword to encourage his men, and was shot through the shoulder. When he was brought back I helped him out of the ambulance and expressed sympathy for him, which caused him to shed tears, but he said nothing. Colonel James Perrin was brought back shot through the body and in great agony, and General McGowan was struck below the knee while standing upon the works. I saw my brother once during the day bringing a wounded man back.

Captain McFall and Lieutenant Mike Bowers came back looking for stragglers, and found four young men who were known to be cowards, but who were always great braggarts after a battle was over. They all pretended to be sick, but I could see no indications of it, and they were marched off, but, before reaching the works, one of them slipped away, although the fighting had ended.

After all the wounded were attended to I was very tired and went to sleep late that night in a tent. I would wake up cold during the night and reach out for a jug of whiskey and take a swallow and go back to sleep again.

The next morning (Monday the 4th) we did nothing. Several handsome young Yankee surgeons in fine uniforms came over with a white flag, and I went to where they were attending to their wounded. While there I talked with a wounded man from Ohio, and saw one of our soldiers cut a forked limb from a tree and make a crutch for a Yankee who was wounded in the foot. The unfed horses of a Yankee cavalry regiment had been hitched to the trees near by and had gnawed off all the bark within their reach.

We stayed there for three days until the Yankees crossed back over the Rappahannock River, and then we marched back to Moss Neck in the daytime in peace and found our tents standing where we left them.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 50-3

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, September 3, 1862

Ox Hill, Va.,        

September 3, 1862.

I was in the battle at Manassas and made several very narrow escapes. I had to go on the field there, although it was Dr. Kilgore's place to go, and not mine, but he was afraid to go. On Monday (September 1) at this place I came very near being killed; for a bombshell barely did miss me and burst right at me. I stood the late terrible march surprisingly well, but I have learned what hunger and hardships are. I would often lie down at night on the bare ground without a blanket or anything else to cover with and would wonder what my dear wife would think if she could see me lying there. We have had some dreadful sufferings, especially on these forced marches. The fatigue and the pangs of hunger were fearful.

We marched fast all day Monday and all day Tuesday (August 25 and 26) and until late Tuesday night, when we bivouacked in a field of tall grass near Bristow Station. Bob Land spread his wet horse blanket on a bare spot, and we lay on it and covered with his blanket and went to sleep without supper. The country was a waste, and I heard no sound of a chicken, cow or dog during the night.

The next morning (Wednesday) we got up before day and marched fast to Manassas Junction, and almost kept up with the cavalry. We found sutlers' stores and trainloads of flour and meat, and we captured a few prisoners. I went into a sutler's tent and got three days' rations of ham, crackers and salt. Before noon we started towards Washington, and after marching three or four miles we marched back to Manassas Junction again late that afternoon and found many prisoners and negroes there, who were all sent away towards Groveton. We staid there that night, and all the cars and everything were set on fire about the same time. We were very tired, and all day lay down on the ground, but I remained awake for some time watching the fire, which burned fiercely. Thursday morning (28th) we marched nearly to Centreville, and from there towards Groveton, and Ewell's command got into a fight late that afternoon on our right. We remained there and bivouacked in the oak forest where our brigade fought next day.

Next morning (Friday) we had breakfast, and I ate with Adjutant Goggans. Our command then took position in the woods near the cut of an unfinished railroad and sent out skirmishers, who soon retreated and fell back on the main line. The Yankee line came up quite near and fired into us from our right, and Goggans was shot through the body. I remained some distance in rear of our line and saw Mike Bowers, Dave Suber and two other men bringing someone back on a litter, and I said: “Mike, who is that?" and he said: "Goggans," just as they tumbled him down. I looked at him as he was gasping his last, and he died at once. Then the wounded who could walk began to come back, and those who could not were brought to me on litters. I did all I could for them until the ambulances could carry them to the field infirmary, and this continued until late in the afternoon.

I saw an Irishman from South Carolina bringing a wounded Irishman from Pennsylvania back and at the same time scolding him for fighting us. Colonel McGowan came limping back, shot through the thigh, but he refused to ride, and said: “Take men who are worse hurt than I am." Colonel Marshall and Lieutenant-Colonel Leadbetter were brought back mortally wounded.

Shells came over to us occasionally as if thrown at our reserves, and would burst among the men and overhead, but they paid no attention to them and kept very quiet. I did not hear anyone say one word. An occasional spent ball fell near by and one knocked up the dust close to me, but the trees were thick and stopped most of the bullets short of us. The Yankees charged us seven times during the day and were driven back every time. Their lines were always preceded by skirmishers. One ran into the railroad cut and sat down, and Jim Wood shot him dead.

Our brigade was not relieved until about four o'clock. They had been fighting all day and their losses were very heavy. I saw General Fields, commanding a Virginia brigade, ride in on our left to relieve us, and I then went back to the field infirmary, where I saw large numbers of wounded lying on the ground as thick as a drove of hogs in a lot. They were groaning and crying out with pain, and those shot in the bowels were crying for water. Jake Fellers had his arm amputated without chloroform. I held the artery and Dr. Huot cut it off by candle light. We continued to operate until late at night and attended to all our wounded. I was very tired and slept on the ground.

We did nothing Saturday morning (30th). There were several thousand prisoners near by, and I went where they were and talked with some of them. Dr. Evans, the brigade surgeon, went to see General Lee, and General Lee told him the battle would begin that morning at about ten o'clock and would cease in about two hours, which occurred exactly as he said. Our brigade was not engaged, and we spent the day sending the wounded to Richmond.

Early Sunday morning (31st) we started away, and I passed by where Goggans' body lay. Near him lay the body of Captain Smith of Spartanburg. Both were greatly swollen and had been robbed of their trousers and shoes by our own soldiers, who were ragged and barefooted, and did it from necessity. We passed on over the battlefield where the dead and wounded Yankees lay. They had fallen between the lines and had remained there without attention since Friday. We marched all day on the road northward and traveled about twelve miles.

The next morning (September 1) we continued our march towards Fairfax Court House, and had a battle late that afternoon at Ox Hill during a violent thunderstorm.

Shell were thrown at us and one struck in the road and burst within three or four feet of me. Several burst near Colonel Edwards as he rode along, but he did not pay the slightest attention to them. There were flashes and keen cracks of lightning near by and hard showers of rain fell. The Yankees had a strong position on a hill on the right side of the road, but our men left the road and I could see them hurrying up the hill with skirmishers in advance of the line.

I went into a horse lot and established a field infirmary, and saw an old lady and her daughter fleeing from a cottage and crossing the lot in the rain. The old lady could not keep up and the daughter kept stopping and urging her mother to hurry. The bullets were striking all about the yard of their house.

Lieutenant Leopard from Lexington was brought back to me with both his legs torn off below the knees by a shell, and another man with part of his arm torn off, but neither Dr. Kenedy, Dr. Kilgore nor our medical wagon was with us, and I had nothing with me to give them but morphine. They both died during night. The battle continued till night came on and stopped it. We filled the carriage house, barn and stable with our wounded, but I could do but little for them. Colonel Edwards was furious, and told me to tell the other doctors "for God's sake to keep with their command."

After doing all I could for the wounded, my brother, my servant Wilson, and myself went into the orchard and took pine poles from a fence and spread them on the wet ground to sleep on. I discovered a small chicken roosting in a peach tree and caught it, and Wilson skinned it and broiled it, and it was all we three had to eat that day. Wilson got two good blankets off the battlefield with “U. S." on them, and we spread one on the poles and covered with the other.

The next morning the Yankees were gone. Their General, Kearney, was killed and some of their wounded fell into our hands. The two other doctors with our medical supplies did not get there until morning, and many of our wounded died during the night. I found one helpless man lying under a blanket between two men who were dead.

We drew two days' rations of crackers and bacon about ten o'clock, and I ate them all and was still very hungry. I walked over on the hill and saw a few dead Yankees. They had become stiff, and one was lying on his back with an arm held up. I picked up a good musket and carried it back with me to the house and gave it to the young lady I saw running away the day before. She thanked me for it, and seemed very much pleased to have it as a memento of the battle.

Late that afternoon we drew rations again, and I ate everything without satisfying my hunger. A soldier came from another command and said he heard I had some salt, and he offered me a shoulder of fresh pork for some. Wilson cooked it and I ate it without crackers, but was still hungry. During the night I became very sick from overeating, and next morning when the regiment left I was too sick to march. Billie, Mose Cappock, Billy Caldwell and myself all got sick from the same cause. We are all sleeping in the carriage house, and I have sent Wilson out into the country to get something for us to eat.

We hope to be able to go on and catch up with the regiment in a day or two. It has gone in the direction of Harper's Ferry.

SOURCE: Dr. Spenser G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 23-31