Following the American Civil War Sesquicentennial with day by day writings of the time, currently 1863.

Post image for Kate Cumming: A Journal of Hospital Life in the Confederate Army of Tennessee.

Kate Cumming: A Journal of Hospital Life in the Confederate Army of Tennessee.

February 10, 2013

Kate Cumming: A Journal of Hospital Life in the Confederate Army of Tennessee.

February 10.—Arrived at Chattanooga at 7 A. M. Left Mobile on the 5th, by steamer to Montgomery. Captain Finnegan was very kind to myself and Miss Groom, who was with me. He did not charge us for our passage. We had transportation tickets for the cars, which only pays for half on the boat.

The Alabama River is formed of the Coosa and Tallapoosa rivers, which unite some ten miles north of Montgomery. It then flows west to Selma, below which point it is very tortuous, flowing south-west until it unites with the. Tombigbee, forty-five miles north of Mobile. The river formed by this confluence is the Mobile, which empties into the Mobile Bay. It is three hundred miles in extent, and is navigable for large boats. Along its banks are immense cotton plantations. In peace times hundreds of thousands of bales of cotton pass down this river yearly, to be transported from thence to all parts of the world.

Had quite a pleasant trip. Duke Goodman, one of our wealthy planters, and his wife were on board. The latter showed us some very pretty homespun dresses. The material was grown, spun, and woven on her own plantation. The colors were very pretty, dyed from the bark of trees and wild roots.

We reached Selma early on the morning of the 7th. It is situated on a high bluff on the west bank of the river, seventy miles below Montgomery. It is in Dallas County, and is the terminus of the Alabama and Tennessee Railroad. The Central Railroad of Alabama extends west from it. We arrived too late to see a fine gunboat launched. There are one or two others being built; they are to be used for the protection of Mobile Bay. Quantities of government work of all kinds are done here. There are some two or three large founderies.

Miss G. and myself paid a visit to Mrs. D., in the city, who gave us a delightful cup of tea, which is rather a delicacy these times.

On the way from Selma to Montgomery we made the acquaintance of a very nice lady, Mrs. Turner, and her brother, Mr. Davis. He is on his way to the army, and the lady to visit her husband, who is surgeon of the Seventh Arkansas Regiment.

We arrived at Montgomery on Sunday, the 8th, an hour too late for the West Point train, and put up at the Exchange Hotel, which is a very fine house. We paid three dollars each for our dinner, and a splendid one it was. Every thing was there, the same as in peace times. The house was filled with refugees, fashionably dressed, and evidently making the best of their condition.

At the table I met some old friends from Mobile. Miss G. and I went to St. John’s Church, and before service had a talk with Rev. Mr. Mitchell. He gave me some prayer-books, which were very acceptable. One of my old friends, Dr. Scott, a refugee from Pensacola, preached an excellent sermon.

We left Montgomery at 4 o’clock p. M.; arrived in Atlanta on the morning of the 9th, too late to make the connection for Chattanooga. We put up at the Trout House, a very fine hotel, but I do not like it as well as the Exchange in Montgomery. The weather was very cold, and there had just been a heavy fall of snow.

I went out shopping with Mrs. Turner. She bought a very neat straw bonnet, for which I think she paid fifty dollars. We paid five dollars each hotel bill. Left in the afternoon for this place. Our friend, Mr. Davis, in attending to our baggage, forgot his overcoat and blanket-shawl at the Trout House, which is a serious loss in this cold weather, and he on his way to camp. When within a few miles of this place the cars ran off the track, and we came up to town on a wood-car.

There is a great drawback in traveling in this country; the railroad is single, and if the returning train happens to be behindhand the other has to wait at the switches for it. We have been detained a good deal on this account; and another annoyance is the scarcity of wood; for miles the locomotive has gone at a snail’s pace.

There were a number of ladies on the train with us, on their way to visit their husbands in the army.

It is remarked that there never were so many women and children traveling as there are now. Numbers of ladies, whose husbands are in the army, have been compelled to give up their homes for economy and protection, and seek others among their relatives. I know of many, with their children, who have been compelled to seek shelter under the parental roof. We have a large floating population—the people who have been driven from their homes by the invader.

Our friends left us to go to Shelbyville. Mrs. T. has a brother-in-law, wounded, in this hospital. He was much disappointed in not seeing her.

When I arrived at the hospital I found Mrs. W. well, and very busy. All were pleased to see me; but my heart sank within me when I looked around and saw the state of things. I had been away long enough to become demoralized. It had been snowing for some days, and the snow was melting, which made every thing damp and comfortless. A hospital is the most cheerless place in the world, and the last place I would remain in from choice. If it were not for the sake of the wounded and sick men, I do not think I could possibly stand it.

I found few of the patients whom I had left here; some have died, and others have gone to other hospitals. Mr. Noland and Mr. Kelly, two of our best nurses, are not expected to live. They were both here when we first came. Mr. Noland is too low to speak. I am much grieved to find him in this state. He was very kind to me when I was sick; and when buttermilk was ordered, searched the whole town to get it for me.

We have a patient—James Scott—who has been here ever since the army went into Kentucky. He accidentally broke his thigh while on the march. He has lain on his back for nearly four long weary months, and has never been known to murmur. I never saw such patient endurance. He is not eighteen years of age. I brought him a little present from home, which he prizes very highly.

We have a new ward near the river. It holds about fifty patients, and is set apart for cases of erysipelas. I visited it to-day, and found it nearly full. Mr. Kelly is there, with all over his face and head; and Captain De Graffenread, who also has it in his arm.

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