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

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

Sunday, July 31.—A most exciting day. The town is filled with troops. Last Thursday, the 28th, about dark, scouts brought in word that the enemy was crossing the river in large force. There was little heed paid to the report, as we had heard so many lately. About 9 o’clock the whole sky was illuminated by a glare of light, in the direction of Palmetto, a small town on the railroad. We knew then what we had to expect, and got ready as usual; whisky, and every thing of any consequence, was sent off; the men who were able taking to the woods.

Some of the negro women refused to go this time, as they had such a hard time of it before; but off they went, “truck” and all. The old woman who had suffered so much before we could not prevail upon to remain behind the others.

On the 29th scouts came in, and reported that the enemy had gone in the direction of Jonesboro, on the Macon road. We had respite again.

Yesterday morning, while I was in the yard of the court-house, attending to the patients, I saw a man ride in haste to town and a crowd collect around him. We were informed he was a courier, and had brought news that the enemy were within six miles of the place.

He was not through talking when the locomotive gave a most unearthly whistle, and immediately we heard the firing of musketry. I asked Captain Currau, to whom I was talking, what that meant. He answered—fighting.

I never saw men run as all did. The crowd who had been around the courier dispersed in double-quick time. I hurried across the street to secure some money and little trinkets that the men had given me to take care of, thinking they would be more secure with me than themselves. On crossing, two or three shots whizzed past me, so I have been under fire for once.

After securing my valuables I went to look at the fighting. I had just got out when we heard cheering, and shouting that “the Yankees were running!” A lady and myself were looking at them, when a gentleman told us to hurry away, as the enemy was planting cannon on a hill near, intending to shell the town.

It seems that the night before General Roddy and his command were passing on their way to Atlanta. They were detained here all night; I do not know why. The engineer on the train saw a reconnoitering party of the enemy coming, and blew the whistle as an alarm. All the men near flew to arms. The enemy, not knowing there were any troops there, thought the train was running off, so rode up to demand a surrender, and received a volley of musketry—a thing they were not expecting. They retreated as speedily as possible.

General Roddy got his men into order (they were cavalry, but had no horses), and awaited the advance of the enemy. I saw General R. riding about in haste, without coat or saddle. A lady and myself tried to procure him a saddle, but were unsuccessful; the lady got him a blanket.

It was rumored that the enemy had surrounded the town and would likely fire upon it. We all suffered much from suspense, as we had many wounded; and if there was a battle in town, they would fare worse than any others. How I did hate to think about all the poor fellows lying so helpless, momentarily expecting a shell to be thrown in their midst.

We had them all moved into the strongest buildings; the court-house was crowded, although every one said a cannon-ball could easily penetrate its walls.

Roddy’s men were drawn up in line of battle on one side of our hospital. The citizens sent baskets of provisions to the soldiers who were in battle array, and we sent them what we could.

At 12 A. M., Wheeler’s cavalry was seen approaching the town. O, how joyfully we hailed them! They came galloping in by two different roads; the enemy, in the mean time hearing of their approach, were retreating. They were hotly pursued, and when four miles from town our men came up with them, where they made a stand, and had quite a battle.

We heard the booming of cannon, it seemed to me, about two hours. We eagerly listened to hear if it came nearer, as then we would know whether we were successful or not; but it did not seem to move from one spot. We had no idea in what force the enemy were, so did not know what to expect.

About 4 P. M. word was brought that we had killed and captured the whole command. Then the wounded from both sides were brought in. I do not know how many there were in all, but not over nine or ten were brought to our hospital.

Hundreds of well prisoners marched in in a different manner from what they had expected.

Captain ——, a patient in one of the hospitals, went to the battle as a spectator; he took charge of a prisoner, promising to bring him to town. Instead of doing so, he took him into the woods and shot him. A gentleman who was with him did not see the deed, but heard the shot.

A friend has told me that when our soldiers were informed of the circumstance they were very indignant, and vowed, if they could lay hands on the captain, they would hang him.

Such men ought not to be permitted to bring dishonor on a brave people, and deserve punishment. I have never been an advocate of the black flag, but I think it would be mercy to an act of this kind. For then the enemy would know what they had to expect, and would fight valiantly before giving themselves up. This unfortunate man had surrendered in the faith that he would be treated as a prisoner of war.

There might be some excuse for a man in the heat of battle refusing to take prisoners, when he saw his comrades slain around him, but this captain had no such excuse. He has been guilty of murder, and of the most cowardly kind.

I have earnestly prayed that, when the history of this war is written, all the dark pages may be on the side of the enemy; but alas! for poor frail humanity, such is not to be the case.

When this captain was asked by a friend why he had committed the deed, he gave as a justification the barbarous treatment of his mother and sister by Federal soldiers.

It is much to be regretted that a young man who had won enviable laurels on many a battle-field, and is now suffering from his third wound, should have tarnished his former good name by such an act.

Dr. Hughes and other surgeons were for hours on the battle-field, attending to the wounded. Dr. H. says he never worked harder in his life.

Four fifths of the wounded were Federals, who appeared very grateful for what he did for them.

At the commencement of the battle, Dr. H. and others had sent word around to the citizens, telling them to prepare food for our soldiers by the time they would return.

Mrs. W. and myself were kept busy all the afternoon receiving the food. All— rich and poor — sent something. One crowd of very poor-looking women brought some corn-bread and beans, which, I am certain, they could ill afford. They said they would gladly do without themselves, so our brave defenders had them.

When the men came in, some of the nurses helped us to serve out the food, as we found it impossible to do so by ourselves.

We were very busy till about 10 o’clock, P. M., when an officer proposed that some of the commissary officers should take the things and divide them.

The men had remained in the yard while we handed them the food. They put me in mind of a lot of hungry wolves. Poor fellows! many of them had not eaten any thing in a long time. They were mainly Wheeler’s men; Roddy’s men had been fed by the citizens.

I heard many complaints against General Wheeler; the men say, if he had acted differently, not one of the raiders would have escaped. As it is, many hundreds have escaped, and their general, McCook, with them.

It seems that General Roddy had his men all ready to make a charge, and General Wheeler would not give the word of command. Many of the prisoners say, had the charge been made, all would have surrendered, as they were prepared for it. Our men speak very highly of the manner in which the people of Newnan have treated them.

To-day the town has been one scene of military display, as nearly all of the cavalry are here. I have seen many handsome flags—trophies. I sent and asked for a piece of one, which was given me.

The wounded prisoners have been taken to the Buckner Hospital. The cannon that we expected would shell Newnan is here. The firing we heard did not do any damage. It is said that there was so much consternation among the enemy that they did not know where they were firing.

Some of the negro men from the Gamble Hospital have been telling us that there was quite an exciting scene there yesterday morning when the raiders came in. All were at breakfast, and knew nothing of the enemy’s approach till they commenced firing. They fired right into the hospital, at the same time shouting and yelling at a terrific rate. The negro men ran and got out of their way as quickly as they could. A number of the citizens were shot at, and some captured; all are now released.

Ono of our patients, Mr. Black, a Kentuckian, who was stopping at a farm-house, was roused from his bed and made a prisoner. He was with them when they heard Wheeler and Roddy were after them, and says he never saw men so badly frightened. They treated him well, as they knew the tables would soon be turned.

Many of them told him, and indeed I have heard it from others, that when they came here they felt confident that they would be captured. Their time would be out in a week; they would then be of no service to the United States government. By sending them on this raid they would draw cavalry from our army.

My wonder is, that the enemy fight as they do, when they are treated with such inhumanity by their own people.

Dr. Henderson has come back from the army, and has started for Mobile. I expect he will have a hard time in getting there, as the road between Opilika and Montgomery is reported to be torn up by the late raiders.

July 27.—We had heavy fighting on the 22d. Lieutenant John Lyons, whom I visited in Corinth, was killed. His death will be a sad blow to his poor mother and wife. He had a brother wounded at the battle of Spottsylvania Court-house. He lived a short time after the battle, and his devoted mother was with him when he breathed his last.

A day or two ago we received a lot of badly wounded; some of them are shot near the spine, which paralyzes them so that they can neither use hands or feet. There is one very large man, named Brown, who is as helpless as an infant. Another, Captain Curran, is almost as bad. A fine-looking young man from Kentucky has lost a leg and arm; there is but little hope of his recovery. Mr. Pullet, a Georgian, is wounded through the lungs; the least movement causes the blood to run in streams from his wound; the doctors have little hope of saving him. Mr. Thomas is wounded through the head; his brain is oozing out, and at times he is delirious. Mr. Orr is injured in the spine, and is perfectly helpless. Mr. Summers of Mississippi is wounded in the right hand, and can not feed himself. Mr. Harper is badly wounded, and can scarcely eat any thing. Mr. Latta, his friend, has had his leg amputated. I have written to the chaplain of their regiments, the Twelfth and Forty-seventh Tennessee, informing him of their condition. Mr. Henderson from Tennessee is severely wounded. We have so many poor, helpless fellows, that it is heart-breaking to look at them. I went down to the train when they arrived, and they were a sad sight to behold. A handsome Texan died as soon as he was brought up to the hospital. A particular friend and one of his officers were with him. There were about fifty brought to our hospital. A number were sent to the Gamble.

The first thing we did was to get them something to eat. We had buttermilk, which they relished.

Mrs. Captain Nutt, a lady from Louisiana, brought us some nice rags, an article which we were entirely out of; and she also gave us her aid. Mr. Moore also assisted. At a time like this the nurses are all kept busy attending to the wants of the surgeons. We washed the men’s hands and faces, and fed them.

Among these martyrs is a young man who, the surgeons are certain, shot himself intentionally. We have a case of that kind now and then. Some time ago, a man, rather than be returned to duty, cut three of his fingers off with an ax, and a bad job he made of it.

As Miss W. is gone, Mrs. W. takes her place; so we have many more duties now than we had. Many of the men are unable to feed themselves. I go over at mealtime and assist the nurses.

Mr. Rabbit, a member of Garrety’s battery, is here badly wounded. He has suffered awfully from having gangrene in his wound. Dr. Wellford, his surgeon, thought at one time he would lose his leg.

There is an old lady here taking care of her sick son; she lives across the river, about fifteen miles distant. She says she has the felicity of having the Federal cavalry surrounding her place. They go into houses, and what they do not carry away they destroy. They have a dreadful antipathy to crockery, and break all the poor people’s dishes.

I met a Mr. Miller visiting Mr. Dougherty’s, who told me that these vandals had called on him, and after robbing him of every thing worth taking, took some dressed leather that he prized very highly, and before his eyes cut it into pieces. It seems to me that they are bent on creating a market for their own wares.

July 25.—Heavy fighting is reported at the front. Drs. Henderson, Devine, and Reesse are on their way there. Dr. H. has spent the week at the Gamble Hospital with Dr. Wildman. Dr. W. is an Englishman. Last Monday our surgeons made up their minds that Dr. Henderson had been sent here by Dr. Foard to “spy out the nakedness of the land.” It was in vain I protested that I believed such was not the case. In going into the wards I found the nurses all busy, getting ready for the great inspector, as they called him. I did not try to undeceive them, as I knew the wards could not be injured by a little extra cleanliness. The next day the nurses were sadly disappointed, as no inspector had been round to see how nicely they had put on their comforts and set their little bottles in military array.

Sunday, July 17.—I went down to the train to see Miss W. off. After she left we were informed that there was a raid near West Point, and that Miss W. will reach there in time to meet it. It is useless to think of going any place and getting rid of the enemy, as they seem to have it in their power to overrun the whole country.

Miss W. and I have agreed that, if either should lose our clothes, the one spared would share with the other. The enemy have a particular liking for ladies’ wardrobes. I presume they send them to their lady-loves in the North. I wonder how they feel in their stolen finery!

I do not suppose that the men would rob us as they do if they were not incited by the importunities of their women. Many letters, taken from dead Federals on the battle-fields, contain petitions from the women to send them valuables from the South. One says she wants a silk dress; another, a watch; and one writer told her husband that now was the time to get a piano, as they could not afford to buy one. “O shame, where is thy blush!” What a commentary on the society of “the best government the world ever saw!” Would we had the pen of a Thackeray to delineate the angelic and supereminent virtues of this great people!

On my return I met a friend from Mobile, Dr. Henderson, the surgeon of a hospital in that place. He brought me a letter from home, which was gladly received. He has been visiting the army, and intends remaining here till the expected great battle comes off. He is an Englishman, and came out from England last fall. On his arrival he received a commission in our army.

This afternoon we went to a funeral in the Methodist Church. Dr. Adams officiated, as the deceased was an Episcopalian— young Colston of Louisville. He was the color-bearer of a Kentucky regiment, and a gallant soldier. He was buried with the full honors of war. The day was very lovely. We walked round that sacred spot, the soldiers’ graveyard, and I saw many a familiar name on the head-boards of the graves—the occupants now calmly sleeping, heedless of the cannon’s roar, and the peal of musketry:

 

“The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,

And all the beauty, all that wealth o’er gave,

Await alike the inevitable hour,—

The paths of glory lead but to the grave.”

 

Though no towering monument is there to mark their last resting-place, it matters little, Nature shall adorn them with her choicest sweets:

 

“And oft upon the midnight air

Shall viewless harps be murmuring there.”

July 15.—We have had an anxious time within the last few days. On the 13th instant a scout brought word that the Federal cavalry had captured a number of men guarding Moore’s Bridge, some twelve miles distant, and that in large force they were advancing on the town.

The post commandant, Colonel Griffin, telegraphed to General Johnston, requesting him to send troops here. He then collected all the men from the hospitals who were able for duty, and sent them, under the command of a Kentucky captain, to meet the foe.

We all went to work to prepare for the enemy’s reception. The first thing done was to send into the woods the negroes, poultry, cattle, convalescents, and all the nurses, excepting those actually needed to take care of the sick.

A wagon was loaded with all the valuables and sent to parts unknown. We had valises packed with a few clothes, and baskets filled with provisions, in case we should be compelled to take to the woods. We have been told that the enemy burn every hospital building, and we had no idea that they would show us any mercy. We packed our trunks, and concluded to remain in the hospital, thinking it might be as safe a place as any.

We had a large quantity of whisky, which we were afraid to keep, for fear if the enemy should get it they would act worse than without it, so it was sent to the woods.

All the surgeons left except Dr. Hughes, who remained at his post. The excitement in town was very great. I do not suppose there was an eye closed all night. On looking out we could see lights all over the place, the people moving every thing that was movable.

About 12 at midnight, Miss W. concluded to go down to her aunt’s, living near West Point. The train was expected from Atlanta at 2 A. M. She got ready, and some of the men carried her baggage to the depot. I started with her; on our way down we met a gentleman, who informed us that the train would not be down, as the conductor was fearful of its being captured. We sat up all night long, and it was a night of dread. Every now and again some one came into town telling us that the enemy were but a few miles off. Every little noise we heard, we made sure they had come. A man came in and told us that they were on the outskirts of the town, waiting for daylight.

Next morning—the 14th—we waited in vain for the enemy; I thought I never had heard of cavalry taking so long to come a few miles. Our head cook did not leave, saying he was tired of running. We had about sixty badly wounded men, who had to have something to eat; so, having no cooks, we all went to work and got breakfast ready, fully expecting the Yankees to eat it instead of our men.

After breakfast there was still no tidings of the foe. We went to work and prepared dinner; Miss W. peeling potatoes and shelling peas, etc., all the time wondering if the Yankees would like their dinner, as we knew that they would not be backward in helping themselves; but by dinner-time the joyful tidings arrived that General Johnston had sent cavalry and driven them back.

We breathe free again, but only for a little while, as I do not see what is to prevent them coming in at any time. The men are coming back very much exhausted. The negro women are nearly all sick, and vowing they will never run again. One old woman, who, I am certain, the enemy could not be paid to take, is nearly dead. The women carried all their clothes with them, as they hear the Federals rob black as well as white. Many an amusing story is related about the hiding.

It is a blessing we can laugh, for this great anxiety is enough to kill any one. I can not help wishing that our kind northern friends, who love us so dearly that they will have us unite with them, whether we will or no, only had a little of it.

July 12.— Our hospital is filled with sick and wounded. The army is now eight miles east of Atlanta. The enemy have driven it back step by step. General Johnston has given up every stronghold. All are now breathless with expectation, waiting to see what move he will make next. There is much conjecturing on the subject. Few seem to have lost confidence in General J.; they think he is acting as well as he can with his means.

We have had some desperately fought battles lately; our side does not lose nearly as many as the enemy.

We have a captain from Tennessee who lost a leg at the battle of New Hope Church. He was for some time a prisoner, and was sent through the lines. He says he saw the dead of the enemy at New Hope Church, and at some places they were piled six deep. They told him that in every battle fought lately they had lost at least five to our one.

As the army has moved east of us, this part of the country is left open, so the enemy can pay us a visit any time they please. It is a moral impossibility for our army to protect the whole country. The enemy have Rome, and they have hung some of the first citizens of the place. Not a day passes but we hear of some brutal outrage committed by these vandals. I have been told that when they reached Cassville the town was given up for them to sack. The whole place has been laid in ruins, and other outrages committed, all because some of the ladies thoughtlessly insulted the prisoners who passed through there about two years ago. We daily see droves of wagons passing, filled with people who have been driven from their homes by the ruthless invader.

We have a very nice old man—Mr. Yerby—who is forager and a little of every thing else; we call him our right-hand man. When we want any thing extra done, or any particular message carried, we call on him. He is friendly with all the country people, and if there is a possible chance of getting any thing from them he gets it. Many a bundle of nice rags he brings us, and a great treat they are. He entered the service at the commencement of the war, and he has two sons in it; one of whom is a prisoner, and he has not heard from him for many a day.

A day or two ago he heard of the death of a young brother, who had just received a commission.

Lately he received a letter from a sister, living in Athens, Georgia, informing him that her cousin, living near there, an old man, between seventy and eighty years of age, was riding in a wagon, when he was accosted by some Federal cavalry, who ordered him out of his wagon, and took all he had from him. They unharnessed his horse, and put a negro who was with him on it, and made the old man walk along side of the negro. He remonstrated, and the vandals beat him; then placed him on an old unsaddled mule, and carried him off. These valiant knights, who war so bravely on helpless old age, women, and children, have sent this old man to a prison in the North.

Our men are not all killed off yet; if these heroes wish to display their valor they will find a few who are ready to combat with them. How hard it is for us to know of these outrages, without the bitterest and most deadly hatred being aroused against these fiends in human shape.

If there was ever one spark of Union feeling in the breast of the Georgians, surely this will extinguish it.

We have a number of Louisianians, members of Point Coupee Battery. Like all from that state, they are very clannish. One, Mr. Dodart, ever since the war commenced, has fought side by side with his son. Poor man I ho can scarcely restrain the tears when he talks about his wife and children, who are now in New Orleans. Another of them, Mr. Lambert, informed me that in coming through Alabama, I think near Demopolis, the battery encamped a few days near the house of a wealthy lady. She very kindly invited them to spend the evening at her house, and entertained them very handsomely. She told them that a few days previous an Alabama battery had been there, and by their misbehavior had frightened all who came in contact with them.

Among these Louisianians is a little boy; I am told he is as brave as any of them, and has done good service in the field.

June 30.—We get very little in the way of chickens, eggs, etc. The fact is, the government gives us no money to buy any thing with, which is very annoying.

Mrs. Dr. Pierce has sent a bottle of lotion for the use of the patients in cases of inflammation. As usual, the surgeons paid little or no attention to it, as it had been made by a lady. I found one of the patients suffering very much from a carbuncle. Dr. Wellford had been doing his best to get it ready for lancing. The head nurse said that Dr. W. told him to try any thing he pleased, as he was tired of trying things himself. I got him to try the lotion, and by next morning the carbuncle was ready for lancing, and the man had a good night’s sleep, the first he had had in a long time. This is a cause of triumph for us ladies. Dr. W. is much pleased with the lotion, and is anxious to get more.

A young man has died lately, who was wounded in the arm and in the head at the battle of Chickamauga. A minie- ball entered at the inner corner of one eye and made its exit at the temple of the opposite side. He was in a critical condition for several months. His wound in the arm healed, and that in the temple, near his eye, also healed; the other closed, with the exception of a slight aperture, from which a discharge kept up, the left side of the forehead being swollen all the lime. The young man walked about for weeks, looking very well and cheerful, though he often complained of dull pain in his head. He was at length taken suddenly ill, and became insensible. The surgeons thought he was suffering under compression of the brain. A consultation was held, and it was decided that the only chance to save his life was to trephine. The operation was performed, I think, by Surgeon Pim, medical inspector. It proved unsuccessful, and the poor fellow never rallied—lived a day or two in a state of insensibility, and then breathed his last. The post-mortem examination proved that the inner skull was seriously fractured, so much so as to make it evident that a fatal issue was inevitable. This young man lay for months in bed, with a bandage over both eyes, and seemed to suffer very little. I never saw him without a smile on his countenance.

June 24.—My brother writes that the army is now south of Marietta, and as it passed through that beautiful city the people cheered them on, and seemed perfectly hopeful of success, expecting them back soon as conquerors. He also says that the army is in fine spirits, and that they get plenty to eat, and have coffee and sugar; but says they are all certain that it is General Bragg who is getting them so many good things.

Another of the brave youths of Mobile, Ben. Scattergood, has fallen a martyr for his country. He was a member of Garrety’s battery, and was killed instantly, near Resaca.

All the churches, with the exception of one, have again had to be taken for hospitals, and the young ladies’ college besides. We have two very large sheds put up; one is on the court-house square. I like them very much for wounded, and the patients are all perfectly delighted with them. They have board roofs and tent-cloth sides, so as to be raised up or let down, as circumstances may require. They are twelve feet in width, and one hundred feet in length, with bunks arranged on each side, with an aisle in the center about five feet wide. I think this is the best arrangement that can be made for wounded in summer. They are well ventilated, and have none of the inconveniences of tents. Post Surgeon Wible has always been an advocate of them, and these have been put up at his suggestion.

A few weeks ago an article appeared in one of the papers of this place complimentary to the hospitals here. The editor said that, when the hospitals first came, there was great prejudice against them, on account of the sickness of which the people were afraid they might be the cause. But the reverse effect has been produced; that never, since Newnan was a town, had it been more healthy, more quiet or pleasant as a place of residence. After complimenting all in them, he ends with a deserved one to the sick and wounded soldiers who from time to time filled them, saying that, by their quiet, unobtrusive conduct, urbane manners, and dignified bearing, they have convinced the most skeptical that southern soldiers and gentlemen are synonymous terms.

June 24.—I have just witnessed the death of John Patterson, a member of the Third Florida Regiment. He had been in the hospital for some time, and not being very sick, I paid him little attention. A few days ago he was taken very ill, and all that could be done for him was of no avail. Mr. Moore, who is very attentive, had spoken to him on the subject of religion, and he had then made up his mind to live for God. This morning he begged me not to leave him, and I did not unless when compelled. Mr. Moore prayed and talked with him a good portion of the day. Colonel Mashburn and Lieutenant Sutton, of his regiment, were with him. He did not feel assured that he would be accepted at the last hour, as he had been so long in seeking the Lord. I read some hymns to him, two of which seemed to give him great consolation; they were “Just as I am without one plea,” and “Jesus, savior of my soul.” Mrs. W. and I were with him when he breathed his last, at nine o’clock to-night. The last words he uttered were, “Take me, Lord, ’tis all I have to give.” He is one of five brothers who have died in the service. What a record and a tale is in these few words! Five of one circle offered up a sacrifice for freedom; they are

 

“Martyrs in heroic story,

Worth a hundred Agincourts!”

 

He requested me to write to his sister, who lives in Madison County, Florida. His colonel tried to get a detail to carry his body home, but was unsuccessful.

June 22.—Good news from all quarters. The gallant Forrest has gained a victory in North Mississippi, nearly capturing a whole command.

Morgan is again in the saddle, bringing dismay to the loyal Kentuckians.

We have gained a victory at Lynchburg, Virginia.

Grant has effected nothing at Petersburg.

The enemy have been defeated in Florida.

Johnston is teaching them a lesson up here, letting them know that they shall not pollute our soil with impunity.