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

May 19.—A gloom seems to hang over every body, as if something dreadful was going to happen. No news of a battle yet. It would not surprise me if none took place here. We will be compelled to leave soon, as this place is becoming daily more sickly.

Mr. Smith has just left for one of the hospitals below. He is rapidly improving. So much for the opinions of doctors! but the best of us may be mistaken sometimes.

Sunday, May 18.—A very hot day. Our patients are nearly all gone. Captain Dearing left to-day. He is in a fair way to recover. He was one of the worst of the wounded. Three of the ladies are very sick. Miss Marks is not expected to live. She has made up her mind to that effect, and is perfectly resigned. She is a member of the Episcopal Church.

May 16.—The fast-day set apart by the President. I hope that it will be duly observed. I believe that it is well kept in the army. There has been no show of keeping it in this hospital; the old excuse is given—”too much to do.”

A few evenings since we came very near being burned 0ut. While the ladies downstairs were making pads for the wounded expected next day—we use hundreds of them daily—the cotton took fire and communicated to some of the ladies’ dresses. A gentleman extinguished it before any serious damage occurred. I was attending some patients at the time, and was certain from the noise that the enemy had come to storm the hospital, for which I was laughed at considerably.

Dr. Griffin of Kentucky and Dr. Benedick of New Orleans are both sick.

May 15.—Heavy firing was heard today, and I felt certain that a battle had commenced. I was in the kitchen when I first heard it, and was compelled to stop what I was doing, as the sound makes me unfit for any thing.

May 13.—Our troops have gone out this morning to endeavor to tempt the enemy to fight, but they will not leave their intrenchments. It is reported that they have been heavily reinforced, but, with all that, I have no doubt that if they would only fight our men would whip them.

We have a member of the Twenty-first Alabama Regiment from Mobile, who was badly wounded at the battle of Shiloh.

There is no hope of his recovery. Every thing has been done for him that it is possible to do. He is a sad spectacle; he is so worn and wasted. He is a German, and can not understand any thing said to him by us. He has no relatives in this country.

Conversing with one of the patients, a very intelligent gentleman, I asked him what he thought of President Davis. He thought that he was a good man, but not the one for the place. I did not ask him his reason for this opinion. He is the first man that I have heard say this, and I hope that he is mistaken, as at this time the country needs a great man at its head.

May 12.—Two men died this morning, Mr. Adams and Mr. Brennan, from Coffee County, Alabama. Mr. B. was wounded. As a friend, Mr. A. came to nurse him. Both were taken sick this morning, and died after a few hours’ illness.

We have the same sad scenes to witness as ever—sick and wounded men lying on the platform at the depot, night and day, and we are not allowed to take them any thing to eat. Dr. Smith is obliged to prohibit it, as it is contrary to orders, and he has not the food to spare for them.

A terrible circumstance happened a few nights since. Our druggist, Dr. Sizemore, went out about 9 o’clock to see some one. When within a short distance from the hospital he heard groans; went to the place from which they proceeded, and found a box-car, that had been switched off the track, filled with wounded men, some dead and others dying, and not a soul with them to do any thing for them. The conductor was censured, but I think whoever sent the men off are in fault for not sending proper persons to take care of them. If this kind of treatment of our brave men continues much longer, I fear that we will have none to fight for us, for such a total disregard of human life must have a demoralizing effect. If we had many more such kind-hearted officers as Dr. Smith, our men would suffer little through neglect. None leave this hospital without he is certain they can go comfortably, and have plenty of nourishment to last them on their journey. I have seen him, many a time, go to the cars himself, to see that they were properly put in. I am informed that he spends every cent of his pay for their comfort . He will reap his reward.

Sunday, May 11.—A very hot, sultry day. I am very tired, as I have all to attend, the other ladies being sick; many of the nurses are sick also. It is more unhealthy now than ever, and unless some change takes place I fear that we will all die.

As there is much noise and confusion constantly here, it is almost impossible to collect one’s thoughts. I miss the calm of the holy Sabbath more than any thing. I have read and talked to the men, and it astonishes me to see how few are members of the Church. They all seem to think and know that it is their duty to belong to it, but still they remain out of it. How much more will they have to answer for than those who have never known God, and have not enjoyed the privileges of the gospel. “He that confesseth me before men, him will I confess before my Father which is in heaven.”

May 10.—The hospital is again filled with the badly wounded. There is scarcely an hour during which they are not coming in from skirmishes. I sat up all night to see that the nurses performed their duties properly, and assisted in bathing the wounds of the men. They all rested quite well, excepting one, who was severely wounded in the hand. He suffered a great deal. One died suddenly this morning. I gave him his toddy; he was then quite cheerful; and I went to give him his breakfast, but his bunk was empty—he was dead and gone. He was wounded in the arm. The doctor desired him to have it amputated, which he would on no account permit. The result was hemorrhage ensued, and he bled to death before assistance could be rendered. I did not learn his name, nor any thing about him.

These things are very sad. A few evenings since, Dr. Allen was conversing about the horrors with which we are surrounded. He remarked that it was hard to think that God was just in permitting them. “Shall we receive good at the hands of God, and shall we not receive evil?” We, as a nation, have been so prosperous, that we forget that it was from him that we derived our benefits. He often sends us sorrows to try our faith. He will not send us more than we are able to bear. How patiently the soldiers endure their trials! Who dare say that strength is not given them from on high? Let us do our part, and, whatever happens, not lose trust in him, “for he doeth all things well;” and, in the language of Bishop Wilmer, “May the trials through which we are passing serve to wean us from the world, and move us to set our affections on things above!” “May we bear the rod, and him who hath appointed it!” Dr. A. was some time with General Floyd, in Western Virginia, and remarked that he had seen nothing here to compare with what the men endured there. They were in the mountains, where it was impossible to get any thing for them.

We gained quite a victory yesterday. Price’s and Van Dorn’s troops were engaged. We saw them as they marched out in the morning. They crossed a bridge opposite our bed-room window.

May 9.—A great many wounded men, both Federal and Confederate, were brought in to-day. About twenty-five of ours were shot through mistake. A fine-looking Federal captain is wounded in three or four places. His head and face are tied up, and he can not speak. He has a Bible, on the back of which is printed the Union flag. Some of us were looking at it; one of the ladies remarked that it was still sacred in her eyes. This astonished me, after the suffering which we had seen it the innocent cause of. I said that it was the most hateful thing which I could look at; as every stripe in it recalled to my mind the gashes that 1 had witnessed upon our men. I have conversed with a number of the prisoners; they all express the same opinion as the others, that they dislike Lincoln and the abolitionists as much as we do, but they are fighting for the Union. What a delusion! I am no politician. I must own to ignorance in regard to federal or state rights; but I think I have a faint idea of the meaning of the word “union.” According to Webster and other authorities, it is concord, agreement, and conjunction of mind. We all know how little of that and happiness exists in a forced union of man and wife, where there is neither love nor congeniality of feeling. Can these men really think it when they say it? Are they so blind as to think, even if they succeed, that it can ever bring happiness to them or us? Is it not exactly the same as the case of the marriage state? They must strike out the word union, and have in its stead monarchy or anarchy; one of these, perhaps, would be better. Why, the Czar of Russia lays no higher claim to the right to rule his empire than do these men the right to govern us. Again, supposing they do succeed in subjugating us, have they forgotten that such a thing is not on record, where the Anglo-Saxon race has ever been held in bondage? Why, it would be as much to their disgrace as ours. Are we not the same race? Let them ask themselves what they would do were the case reversed; were we the aggressors, and demanded of them what they now demand of us. I think we all know their answer. It would be that given by the immortal Washington to the haughty monarch of England, when he attempted to make slaves of men who had determined to be free. Grant that we had no lawful right to secede; that I know nothing about, and never was more grieved than when I knew that we had done so; not from any wrong or unlawfulness, but from the fact that, united, we were stronger than we would be when separated; and I also feared the bloodshed which might ensue. If we were sinners in that respect, what were our forefathers when they claimed the right to secede from the British crown? Calling it fighting for the Union, is about as false as the love of the abolitionist for the negro, and we all know what that is. No happiness can exist in union without concord; and there can be no concord where any two people are so diametrically opposed to each other. All this I have repeated to them often, but I might as well have saved myself the trouble, for they are as blind to reason as any bigoted, self-deluded people ever were.

I was introduced to General Hindman, who dined with us to-day. He is still lame from a wound received at the battle of Shiloh. He is a peculiar-looking man; his hair is light and long, floating around his shoulders. I always imagine, when I see a man with his hair so long, that there is a vacancy in his cranium. I believe that it is Shakspeare who says that what a man lacked in brains he had in his hair. As the former is an article that we have much use for, and whose workings are much needed at present among our leading men, I can not but regret that outward indications in this instance were unfavorable. But perhaps this is only my prejudice against foppishness and every thing effeminate in men. General H. may be an exception to this rule, and I trust he is.