April 9.—I have been to the cars. Saw Mr. John Maguire, a member of Ketchum’s Battery. He is wounded. The company has had one man killed— John Ashby—who fell fighting at his post, and some seven or eight wounded.
The Twenty-first Alabama Regiment suffered pretty badly. I have letters for two of its members. One of these, Charles Farrow, I am told, is a prisoner; the other, John Ortella, a native of Italy, is killed. Poor fellow! I saw a letter written by him a few weeks since to a friend, in which he requested her to pray for him, as he had not time to pray for himself.
Mrs. Walker, one of the ladies who came with us from Mobile, has heard that one of her sons is badly wounded, and a prisoner. Dr. Walkely is on the train, and has with him the dead body of his only son, a member of the same regiment. He left Mobile with us a volunteer surgeon, little dreaming the fate of his boy! I spoke to him, but his lip quivered so with emotion that he could not answer me.
The train was filled with wounded. All told terrible tales of the scenes in Corinth, which only served to make us more miserable. We have had a frightful battle. It was fought on the 6th and 7th inst. The first day our army drove the enemy back near the Tennessee River, within range of their gunboats. On the second they were heavily reinforced, and we retired. Nearly every state in the Confederacy is draped in mourning for the loss of their loved ones, and the whole country has to weep over the death of the good and great general, Albert Sidney Johnson, who was in command. His loss is a sad one. His place can not be easily filled. I have been told that it was his death that caused the last day’s failure. He had planned the battle, and there is no doubt that, had he lived, he would have succeeded in executing it successfully. He has died the death of a soldier and conqueror, battling for the right. He is doubly a martyr, as he had not only the bullets of the enemy to contend with, but the shafts of envy which were hurled at his fair fame by his own countrymen. They say that he was wounded while recklessly exposing himself. But, ere his noble spirit took its flight, he had the proud satisfaction of seeing the enemy driven back in dismay and confusion. May his soul rest in peace! It has gone where it will be judged, not as man judges, but by the heart alone. Let his faults lie with him in the grave; be it our duty to do honor to his many virtues.
General Gladden of Louisiana is mortally wounded; Colonel Blythe of Mississippi is killed. Mobile has to mourn the loss of some of her bravest and best— Major Armstead, young Maguire, Anderson, Marshall, Spear, Burns, Cummins, Herpin, Ledyard, and others, are names never to be forgotten.
“O, for the death of those
Who for their country die;
Sink on her bosom to repose,
And triumph where they lie!
How beautiful in death
The Warrior’s corse appears;
Embalmed by fond Affection’s breath.
And bathed in Woman’s tears!
Their loveliest native earth
Enshrines the fallen brave;
In the dear land that gave them birth,
They find their tranquil grave.”
I spoke to John Maguire, and reminded him of that day, one year ago, when he participated in one of the finest displays of which the city of Mobile boasts—the Firemen’s Anniversary.[1]
A number of ladies have come from Natchez, Miss., to join us. They have also been cared for by the good people of the place.
After we returned to Mrs. Haughton’s, I was quite amused in listening to her granddaughter’s account of a visit which they had just made to the hospital. It seems that the surgeons entertain great prejudice against admitting ladies into the hospital in the capacity of nurses. The surgeon in charge, Dr. Caldwell, has carried this so far that he will not even allow the ladies of the place to visit his patients. These young ladies went over with some milk and bouquets, and were not permitted to present them in person to the patients, but had to give them to the doctor. So they told him they knew the reason; he wanted all the good things for himself. The doctors, one and all, are getting terrible characters from the ladies; even good Dr. Nott of Mobile is not spared. I only wish that the doctors would let us try and see what we can do! Have we not noble examples of what our women have done? For instance, Mrs. Hopkins, in Virginia, and, I have no doubt, many others. Is the noble example of Miss Nightingale to pass for nothing? I trust not. What one woman has done, another may do. We need not aspire to be Miss Nightingales, or Mrs. Hopkinses; still we can contribute our “two mites.”
We have with us two very excellent ladies—Mrs. Hunter and her daughter— refugees from Missouri. They were in a hospital at Nashville when the city was taken possession of by the enemy, and have been relating their experience, which is very interesting.
[1] The 9th of April is the anniversary of the organisation of the fire department. Two of the companies, the Creole and Neptune, date their origin from 1819. This department has for its members men of the highest standing. On this anniversary, the engines are decked most gorgeously, and dressed with flowers. One year ago to-day the companies vied with each other in their efforts to make the finest display. The whole department exhibited more energy than was its wont. The war spirit had just been aroused on account of the north holding, as a right, what we deemed our own—Fort Sumter— and our people, awakened as if from a lethargy, determined to throw heart and soul into the contest.
Wednesday, 9th—Fifteen hundred more of our troops arrived. We are still burying the dead. It rained again today. The ground is so thoroughly soaked that it is difficult to dig the graves deep enough and keep out the water. We bury our dead by companies, all of one company in one grave, and if only one of a company is killed, the body is placed in a grave by itself. The bodies of the rebels’ dead are placed side by side in long graves. The carcasses of horses are removed by burning them.
