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

Journal of Surgeon Alfred L Castleman.

13th.—A sad day is this. The effects of General _____’s vindictive meddling with the Medical Department are beginning to manifest themselves. When he took from me my well-trained hospital attendants and my experienced druggist, on the 5th inst, there were appointed in their places, men, worthless in the ranks, and without knowledge of the important duties which they were to perform in the hospital. The druggist knew not one medicine from another, and today three men are poisoned by a mistake in dispensing medicines. One of them is already dead; the other two suffering severely, though I have hopes that they may yet be saved. Thank God, I was absent at the time, and had nothing to do with either the dispensing or administering; and yet, should I write that the vindictiveness was not yet gratified, would the world credit it? It is even so. I have addressed to the General a respectful letter, setting forth the facts, and urging the restoration of my druggist, but he refuses! Would he decimate his Brigade to gratify his vindictiveness?

Well, we have lain still nearly a year, “surrounding the rebel army,” and, yesterday, when we went to “bag’em,” they were gone! One thing is gained, however, the .Capital is no longer besieged, and the blockade of the Potomac is raised. “Great is Diana.”

I visited some Virginia ladies at their homes to-day, took tea with them, and witnessed from their house the most beautful review of about 10,000 troops, that I ever beheld. The house is a fine old Virginia mansion, overlooking a large plain, where the troops were reviewed by Gen. McClellan. We all enjoyed it greatly. But I enjoyed more the pleasure of sitting down once more to a family table, and exchanging the boisterous society of the camp, for the quiet conversation of refined and civil life. Oh how I longed for a return of that peace which would enable the North, the South, the East, and the West, to feel again the fraternal bonds, and stop the desolations of war.

12th-—On examining the fortifications at Manassas to-day, we find them mounting “wooden guns.” Subordinate officers have no right to ask questions, but if I were not a subordinate I should be strongly tempted to ask if, in eight to twelve months of anxiously watching the enemy, it were not possible to find out the nature of his defences? I really hope this oversight, or, rather, want of sight, does not indicate a wilful negligence on the part of some of our superiors.

11th.—Suffered more from cold last night, than on any other night in the army. The wind was terrific, and I slept out without any way to guard against it. Rode back to Camp Griffin to-day, to see to the sick and the hospital stores left there.

What next? No enemy here to fight or to watch. What shall we do? We can form no idea.

March 10th, 1862.—Well, the Army of the Potomac is at last in motion. After having lain still with 150,000 men, comparatively idle, for nearly eight months, our National Capital besieged, its great thoroughfare blockaded by a foe of which we have habitually spoken with contempt, the Van Winkle-ish sleep is apparently broken, and we are at last in motion.

We left Camp Griffin at 4 o’clock this A.M, and now—1 P.M., are bivouacked in sight of Fairfax Court House. Freedom Hill, Vienna, Flint Hill, all passed, and we have met no enemy. We are within eight miles of Centreville, and are receiving reports that the place is already in our possession. There is nothing authentic, but we shall know to-night. We are within ten miles of the famous Bull Run battle field, within fifteen of Manassas. Ho! for Richmond!

We have had a most unpleasant march to-day. Rain, rain, mud, mud. The men have suffered much, and many have fallen out of the ranks. I have received another official reprimand to-day, and still another. I suppose I deserved them. Only last night I wrote a letter to _____, in which I expressed my joy that I had at last come to the determination that feelings of humanity should not again enter into any of my plans or conduct during the war—that I should now take the “Army Regulations” as my guide. They recognize no benevolence, no affection. Commands and obedience are all they know, and I left camp this morning firmly resolved that these alone should govern me in the future. Five miles from camp I overtook a poor, weakly little fellow who had fallen out of the ranks. He had unpacked his knapsack and thrown away his clothes, to enable him to keep up. My resolution of three hours’ ago was all forgotten. I had his knapsack repacked, carried it for him till I overtook an ambulance and put it in. Captain _____, one of the General’s staff, saw me put it into the ambulance, and I “caught it.” This reminded me of my resolve, and I renewed it. I pushed forward, and overtaking the regiment I found F. staggering under his load of knapsack, arms and accoutrements. Poor F., the pale boy, who had been my assistant since I joined the army, but now, through the arbitrary vindictiveness of a little military despot, reduced to the ranks; could I leave him stuck in the mud and in the enemy’s country? I forgot again! Shouldered his gun and knapsack, took his place in the ranks, and mounted him on my horse to rest. I confess it was not very dignified to see a Surgeon—a staff officer—and at this time accidentally on the General’s staff,[1] wading through the mud, with knapsack and musket, whilst a soldier was riding. ‘”Twas derogatory to the staff.” So to the usual reprimand, the polite military addendum of “d__mn_d fool” was this time appended. Well, a man who will so often forget his good resolutions, deserves it, and I will try not to forget again, so far as to permit my kind feelings to derogate from the dignity of my commander’s staff.

Report of the evacuation of Manassas is confirmed. We got news of a terrible naval battle in the James River. Congress and Cumberland lost! Merrimac disabled! But today we have Fairfax, Centreville Manassas and Ocoquan; that pays for the work of the Merrimac.


[1] I was acting as Brigade Surgeon.

March 10th. (AM)—Returned early last night; but before midnight received orders to have two days’ rations cooked, and be ready to move at 4 o’clock this A.M. Before I got dressed I found myself not only Regimental Surgeon, but in consequence of the absence of the Brigade Surgeon, I had charge of his duties also. My hands were full. I guess the watch is almost old enough.

We know nothing as to where we go, but a party of scouts who were out through the day yesterday, report that Manassas is evacuated, and that the rebel army of the Potomac has all gone South. About ten o’clock to-day we heard a terrible explosion, supposed to be the blowing up of some bridge to prevent pursuit. And has that army been so disrespectful to General McClellan as to go off without going into his bag? Fie on them!

And now we are off. The sick whom I have nursed till my care grew into affection for them, are sent away. Those to come will be new ones. The last few weeks have taught me that in the army the Surgeon’s duty is to take care of the Surgeon, and to leave conscience and humanity to take care of themselves. These, with the affections which are apt to accompany them, may be good enough in civil life; in the army they are obsolete, fit only for fogies. True, there are a few yet in the Regiment, for whom, should they be suffering, I might yield to the sheepish impulse of humanity, and even become interested in their comfort. But Surgeon first, is to be my motto now. Hurrah! we are on the move!

9th.—All is bustle and confusion. Though there is no order to move, we are all packing, and ambulances are running with our sick to general hospital. This looks like clearing the decks for action. We are notified that when we do march, we shall do so without baggage or tents. So long have we been here that, notwithstanding we have been long impatient to move, it will be like breaking up our home. My home attachments are very strong. I shall feel sadly at breaking up, but I shall be glad to be again in active service.

Since the late ebullition of vindictiveness by Gen. ______, I have been schooling myself in the hardest lesson of my life —that is to sit and wait for orders, regardless of humanity, of everything, indeed, except the little eighty-seven dollars and fifty cents per month, and my own ease and comfort. This is a lofty ambition. A prize worthy a better patriot than I have ever claimed to be. Last night and this morning I labored in my hospital till three A.M. But that work is now over. We leave behind us those to whom my care and their suffering had attached me; and I will see to it that neither conscience nor humanity shall again so strongly attach me to the sick. It only lays me liable to indignities and insults.

7th.—Received orders to-day to draw rations for my hospital force for five days. This kind of an order is unusual. The roads are improving. Perhaps the dumb watch is nearly old enough to run.

6th.—This morning as my newly appointed nurses came in, I was utterly disheartened. There is not a man amongst them who can make a toast or broil a chicken; yet the sick must depend on them for all their cooking. Half of them are applicants for discharge on the ground of disability, yet they are sent to me to work over the sick, night and day, and to carry the wounded from the battle field. Not one has ever dispensed a dose of medicine, and yet I must depend on them for this duty. It is a dreadful thought to me that I must go to the battle field with the set which is now around me. Our sick, our wounded, our dying on the battle field will be from amongst my neighbors and my friends. To the parents of many I have made a solemn vow that their sons shall be properly cared for in times of trouble. Well, I will do the best I can, but when I have trained men to all the little offices of kindness and of care, even to the practice of lifting the wounded and carrying them smoothly on litters,[1] it is hard that they should now be taken from me, at the very moment of expected battle, and replaced by such as these.

This morning the men dismissed from my service for the heinous offence of loving me, came in to bid me good bye. When a long time hence, I read this, I find it written that we all wept, I may then feel ashamed of the weakness. I certainly do not now.


[1] For months, it has been a daily practice to take the nurses to the field and train them to lifting the sick and wounded, and even to the proper step in carrying them off the field. None but those who have witnessed it can imagine the difference in pain or comfort, which a certain kind of step will communicate to those carried on litters.

5th.—The deed is done. The blood-hounds tracked out at least a part of their game. The following will tell its own tale :

Headquarters ______ Reg’t _____Vols,”

Camp Griffin, Virginia, March 5th, 1862.

Regimental Order,
No. 72.

Privates _____, _____, _____, _____, _____, _____, _____[1] are detailed for extra duty in the Regimental Hospital. They will report to the Surgeon at the hospital forthwith, taking with them their knapsacks, arms, accoutrements, but no ammunition.

Privates _____, _____, _____, _____, _____, _____, _____, _____, _____, _____[2] are relieved from extra duty at the Regimental Hospital, and will report for duty forthwith, to their company commanders.

The above changes in the attaches of the hospital is deemed necessary, on account of the late complimentary presentation, made by the attendants now relieved to the Surgeon in charge of the hospital. This was in violation of the spirit of the army regulations, and of the usage of the service.[3] Yet it is believed that in so doing the men were guilty of no intentional wrong, and were actuated by the better impulses of human nature; and there is, too, much reason to believe that they have been misled by the precedents which have been but too many in the volunteer service. While it is not intended to disgrace the soldiers above named, it is considered that by making this present to their superior in the Medical Department, they have so embarrassed their relationship to that officer as to render the continuance of that relationship subversive of military discipline.

The relationship of officers and soldiers is that of instruction and command on the one part, and of respect and obedience on the other. All discipline is based upon this theory, and while the officer will receive in his own consciousness of duty discharged, and the disinterested approval of his superiors and peers, his sufficient reward, the soldier, by doing his duty in the defence of his country, will continually pay a greater compliment, and make a more acceptable presentation to his officer than handiwork can fashion or money buy.

By order of the Colonel Commanding,

_____ _____ _____, Adjutant.”

Copy, Official.
_____ _____ _____, Adjutant

Well, there is a good deal of rhetorical high-fa-lu-tin in all that; but after it shall have been laughed at, hooted and ridiculed by all who see it, I wonder how much comfort the poor soldier who has had his hip shattered or his spine dislocated by a shell, will derive from the recollection of this rhetorical sophistry, whilst he is being handled on the battle field as a bear would handle him, instead of by those hands which had for months been trained to a knowledge of the business, and now withheld for the gratification of a cowardly vindictiveness.

But take it all in all, the above is a remarkable document. Nothing recognized but order and obedience. Affection for the commander is entirely ignored. It has been my boast and pride, that for months, not one of the ten men taken from me has been ordered. Their affection for me has anticipated my every wish as well as every necessity of the sick, and there has been a constant emulation amongst them as to who could best please me by contributing to the comforts of the sick. This, it seems, is not consistent with the good of the service, and they are all this day returned to the ranks ! Well, if military discipline ignores the impulses of affection, and of obedience from kindness, God deliver me from all such drill.


[1] Names of seven privates.

[2] Names of the ten of the hunted out.

[3] Everybody knows that statement to be false. ‘Twas perfectly in accordance with the uaage at that time and is yet.

4th.—I returned from Washington to-day, and was met by Colonel _____, who told me that the Brigade Commander had ordered him to have every hospital nurse who had taken any part in the purchase or presentation of the sword to me, dismissed from hospital and returned to the ranks. Well, now, who is to do that? I shall not; and I am glad that our Commander of Brigade has had pride enough to rise to this trick to find out who they are, rather, than (pencil in hand) to go sneaking around, asking “Who did it?” But he will miss fire; I shall dismiss nobody. I would rather he would catch himself in the little act of nosing around for information. I doubt not he will do it, or even dirtier work, rather than let slip any opportunity to gratify his vindictiveness.

After I received this verbal order, I sat down and wrote a defiant letter to the General, giving him my estimate of such doings, but then, feeling that it might redound to the injury of my friends, who were sharing his displeasure with me, I suppressed it, and sent a request to the General to be permitted to see him on the subject. I received the manly reply: “When the order is carried out!” If we never meet till I carry out that order, these eyes will for a long time be relieved of performing a most disagreeable duty. He may perform the duty; I shall not. In the hope, however, of relieving my friends from his further vindictiveness, I determined on another attempt to mollify, and here record the attempt, with its result:

Headquarters Medical Department,”
_____ Reg’t. _____ Vols,

Colonel:—

Permit me, through you, to lay before Brigadier General _____, the following statement of facts: During the autumn and early part of the winter, the sickness in our regiment was unusually severe. Often, one half of our nurses were sick, and the rest worn down by fatigue. Rather than draw more strength from the regiment to our aid, I, after my official duties of the day were over, did, for weeks together, spend the greater part of every night in the unofficial, and, perhaps, undignified capacity of nurse, sending the exhausted nurses to their beds, and ministering to the wants of the sick. I rarely retired before two o’clock in the morning. During this time I was so fortunate as to gain the affection and gratitude of those for whom I labored, whilst many of them were still feeble, scarcely able to leave their beds, they decided to express their gratitude for my personal efforts, by a new year’s gift to me. They forgot that in becoming soldiers they ceased to be men, and gave vent to their feelings by presenting me a sword. If, in this presentation, there were “deliberations or discussions having the object of conveying praise or censure” for me, officially, as stated by the General, I have not been able to discover it. The circumstances attending—the spirit of the address—the inscription on the scabbard, all point to a different feeling and another object. With feelings of the deepest regret, I learn that this act of theirs meets the disapproval of the Brigade Commander, and that these men are to become the objects of censure and punishment.

For six months, these soldiers, by the direction of the Medical Director of the Army, have been thoroughly trained to the performance of those duties which are expected of hospital attendants on the field of battle, and I venture nothing in saying that the hospital under their care will show that they are second to no corps on the Potomac.

Under this state of facts, I respectfully appeal to the Brigade Commander, and beg that he will revoke the order dismissing these nurses and filling the hospital with inexperienced ones, at the moment when we are expecting to enter the battle field, and to need all the experience in our reach.

I waive all considerations of my own mortification, and will even cheerfully bear a public reprimand for myself. I put aside the consideration of the inconvenience which theer dismissal will bring on me; I put aside even their mortification and disappointment; but, in behalf of the sick, the wounded, the dying of my regiment, I appeal for the revocation of this order.

I beg, Sir, to remain,

Respectfully, your ob’t serv’t,

______ _______
Surgeon _____ Volunteers.

To Colonel _______, Commanding _______ Vols.

With this last appeal I close the labors of this day.