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.

December 12, 2014

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

December 12, 1864.—Left Americus on Sunday, the 27th ult . We had a very nice box-car. Mrs. W., not being very well, had a bunk put up in one corner, and we had a curtain hung across, making quite a snug little room. In the afternoon we stopped at a place called Butler, where we were detained all night. It was bleak and barren-looking, and had very deep sand. Dr. Hughes and myself went to service, which was held in a small building. We heard a very good sermon preached by a chaplain. There were numbers of soldiers there; and, as usual, all listened with profound attention. The preacher told us that the war would not cease until Christians lived more up to what they professed than they did now, and that they had much to answer for in this matter. The Bragg Hospital was on the train with us. Miss Burford and Mrs. Byrom, the matrons, and Dr. Cross’s family were with it, which made the trip much pleasanter for us. Dr. Cross was a man of wealth, and when he joined the army left his family well provided for. They lived near Tuscumbia, in the northern portion of Alabama. When the enemy went there they took every thing that Mrs. Cross had: upward of seventy negroes, twenty-five thousand pounds of meat, all her live stock, and a large amount of grain, and a large supply of groceries for family use. After they took all of these things, they politely asked Mrs. Cross to leave the house, as they intended burning it. They would not give her time to get a change of clothes for her children. Her old father was an invalid, and had to hobble out on crutches. After getting through with her house, they went to a neighbor’s and did the same. The officer in command made a great fuss talking; but, as usual, did nothing to restore what was lost. I have been intimate with this amiable family some time, and their uncomplaining endurance of their wrongs has excited my unbounded admiration. I have never heard a complaint from any of them. Mrs. C. tells me that, since she has lost every thing, nothing annoys her. Miss C. is a highly educated and refined young lady, and has traveled in Europe.

We left Butler on the 28th, and arrived at Columbus the same day. There we met some of our Newnan friends, who had gone there for fear of the enemy.

Columbus is quite a pretty place; the streets are very wide, and the houses handsome; many of them had very beautiful flower-gardens around them. I noticed some very magnificent public buildings. It is on the Chattahooche River, ninety miles west south-west of Macon, one hundred and twenty-eight miles west southwest of Milledgeville, and two hundred and ninety miles west of Savannah. The river is the dividing state line; a handsome bridge extends across it to the village of Gerad, in Alabama, which is well fortified in case of raids. At this point it is navigable for steamboats to the Gulf of Mexico during eight months of the year. Large quantities of cotton were shipped from here annually, and at this time it is filled with that staple, sent from various points, to be out of the way of the enemy. It is the terminus of the Moscogee Railroad, and a branch of the West Point.

We left Columbus on the 30th, about 8 A. M.; arrived in Montgomery the same day. I learned that the trains were not running to Mobile, as something had happened to the railroad; and as I had no money to pay my passage on the boat, I was compelled to remain in Montgomery, with the hope of soon getting on with the hospital. Montgomery was filled with hospitals, moving in the same direction as ourselves; so there was a prospect of a lengthy sojourn at that place.

We were given possession of an empty car that had been set aside for refugees, which I named “Refugee Hall.” We did very well, considering every thing. We had our cooking done outside, and the weather was very fine. I shall not have so much sympathy for refugees I see in cars again. But we were not in it long enough for the novelty to wear off.

On Sunday, the 4th inst., I went to the church of the “Holy Comforter.” The rector, Dr. Scott, preached an excellent sermon. The Bragg Hospital had left to go to Gainesville, by the way of Selma.

On Monday, the 5th, I called to see Dr. Scott on business, and he very kindly gave me aid. He introduced me to a friend, Judge Jordan (another refugee from Florida), who transacted my business with dispatch. I am much indebted to him for his kindness.

I saw little prospect of the hospital getting away from Montgomery, as the boats were busy and so few. I concluded to come on by myself, and pay my way, as we were told that if we went at government expense we would have to take a deck passage. Dr. Hughes very kindly loaned me $200; so on Tuesday, the 6th, I left Montgomery on a steamer for Selma. On the boat I met Bishop Wilmer of Alabama; with him, a highly accomplished lady, Mrs. Irwin, who was on her way to Tuscaloosa, Alabama, to become a deaconess.

I have no doubt that this order in the church, will be the means of accomplishing much good. Since the war we have felt the necessity of such an organization, to teach our women the art of nursing.

There are to be church homes for the benefit of the aged and helpless, orphan asylums, and schools, under their supervision. Bishop Wilmer is fortunate in having an excellent lady. Miss Hewitt of Baltimore, as chief deaconess. She is a woman of energy, intelligence, and devout piety.

Bishop Wilmer has been but a few years bishop of Alabama. He is a Virginian. He is the youngest-looking bishop I ever saw; he has nothing of the “venerable” in his appearance. He is very fine-looking—is a man of energy and ability, and is much beloved in his diocese.

We arrived at Selma on the 7th; there I saw Dr. Jackson, and learned that the Bragg Hospital was still in Selma. He sent a telegram for ours to come and go the same route. I had a little girl with me, for whom the clerk of the boat had charged full price. I sent for the captain (Finnigan); informed him of the circumstance, and that the child was a soldier’s orphan. He immediately refunded all the money.

We took another boat at 12 A. M., and started en route for Mobile. We had a very pleasant party on board; among them many of the citizens of Mobile returning home, who had refugeed from fear of an attack. I heard many say that they did not care what might happen, they would not run again.

Captain Curran, whom I little expected to see alive at this time, was on board. He is still helpless from his wound. There was also a very sick doctor, by the name of Holmes, whom I visited. Poor fellow! he did not look as if he was long for this world. He had been on duty with my friend, Dr. Devine, at Macon.

A young lady, Miss M., one of the handsomest women in Mobile, sat near me at table, and when I told her how I had been employed since the war, she said she had often wished to do the same. I wondered what hindered her.

I made the acquaintance of Rev. Dr. Hamilton of the Methodist Church; his wife and daughter were with him. I knew him well by reputation as an eminent preacher, and a particular friend of Mrs. W.’s.

I was introduced to Major Hester of the Twenty-second Alabama Regiment. We had a long talk about the times. He was on his way to the army; had been in the service ever since the commencement of the war. He said, when he saw so many men as there are at home making fortunes, who had never been in the service, that his patriotism cooled a little. He informed me that Montgomery was full of such. He has a relative, a Scotchman, who had run the blockade, and was daily expected back. I believe he was on government business. Scotland was a theme of conversation with us. Major H. was an enthusiastic admirer of “Auld Scotia,” as nearly all I have met in the South are.

I met an old friend, who was going to Mobile, in company with a bridal party, as even in these war times people “marry and are given in marriage.” The groom is a soldier. The bride was pretty, as all brides are, and we were much indebted to her for helping to while away the time, by discoursing “sweet music,” although the time did not hang heavy on my hands, as I had a copy of Joseph the Second—a charming work, by Muhlbach, translated from the German by one of our literary stars—Mrs. Chaudron.

We arrived at Mobile on the 9th, and found every thing pretty much as usual, and the enemy still expected.

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