Headquarters U. S. Sanitary Commission,
Steamer “Wilson Small,”
Off Yorktown, May 12.
Dear A., —Transferred to this boat. Mr. Olmsted came on board at twelve o’clock last night and ordered Mrs. Griffin and me off the “Daniel Webster.” We had just received, stowed, and fed two hundred and forty-five men, most of them very ill with typhoid fever. The ship sailed at eight o’clock this morning, and will be in New York to-morrow night. Mrs. Trotter went back in charge of our department, and Mrs. Bellows (wife of the president of the Sanitary Commission) accompanied her.
The “Webster” could not get up to the wharf, so the sick men were brought off to us in tug-boats. As each man came on board (raised from one vessel and lowered to the second deck of ours in cradles), he was registered and “bunked.” In my ward, as each man was laid in his berth, I gave him brandy and water, and after all were placed, tea and bread and butter, if they could take it, or more brandy or beef-tea if they were sinking. Of course it was painful; but there was so much to be done, and done quietly and quickly, that there was no time to be conscious of pain. But fever patients are very dreadful, and their moans distressing. The men were all patient and grateful. Some said, “You don’t know what it is to me to see you.” “This is heaven, after what I’ve suffered.” “To think of a woman being here to help me!” One little drummer-boy thought he was going to die instantly. I said: “Pooh! you’ll walk off the ship at New York. Take your tea.” He was quite hurt that I could ask it; but presently I found he had demolished a huge slice of bread and butter, and was demanding more. Then the doctors made their rounds; and after that, such, as were in a condition to be handled were put into clean hospital clothing. Some, however, were allowed to rest until morning.
We did not get them all settled and the watches set till 1 A. M.; after which Mrs. Griffin and I packed up, to leave the ship at daybreak. Oh! if I had it to do over again, I’d have an organized carpet-bag, with compartments for everything. As it was, all was poked in and stamped upon.
This is a little boat, headquarters of the Sanitary Commission, Mr. Olmsted, the General Secretary, in charge of the whole transport service, and Mr. Knapp, his second in command, living on board. At present she is filled in every available corner by severely wounded men brought from the battle-field of Williamsburg, —wounded chiefly in the legs and thighs. Today Mrs. Griffin and I are supernumeraries, the ladies on board being sufficient for all purposes. They are, so far as I have yet ascertained, Mrs. George Strong, wife of the Treasurer of the Sanitary Commission, Miss Mary Gardiner, of New York, Mrs. Howland., whose husband is the colonel of a regiment in the advance, a tall, symmetrical Miss Whetten,[1] and a pretty little creature, half nun, half soubrette, whose name I don’t know. They all seem easy and at home in their work, as if they had been at it all their lives. I use my eyes and learn, and have taken a hand here and there as occasion offered. Terrible things happened yesterday. Many of the wounded of the Williamsburg battle were found lying in the woods with their wounds not dressed, and they starving. Mrs. Strong saw them, and says it was like going over a battle-field.
There is a general cry throughout the female department for “Georgy.” “Where is Georgy?” “Oh, if Georgy were here!” “Georgy” is on board a hospital boat called the “Knickerbocker,” which appears to be missing. As I have nothing to do, I speculate a good deal as to who and what “Georgy” may be.
Yesterday we went all over Yorktown. I sent a few relics to Ralph by the “Daniel Webster,” one of them much envied, — an iron pulley from the celebrated gun which McClellan telegraphed had been “impertinent this morning,” and which afterwards burst, to the great relief of our men. It is amazing that Yorktown was so soon evacuated. Its strength seems very great, not only from its defences, but from the lay of the land, — range after range of hill and ravine, every hill commanding the plain over which our army had to creep up, and which was also covered by the water-batteries at Gloucester, until the gunboats silenced them. We went round the fortifications and saw everything,— the siege-guns, eighty of them; the fine log-houses of the men; the ten thousand abandoned tents, many of which were still standing. Guards were placed about the magazines; and at various points, in the paths or by the wayside, we came upon placards marked “Dangerous,” as a warning of torpedoes. I saw the fragments of a flour-barrel in which one was buried, killing the man who dipped into it; also a walnut-tree under which the earth was torn up, and where six men were yesterday blown to fragments by somebody stepping on the fuse of one. We saw what was once Lafayette’s headquarters, — now supposed to be a prison, where the prisoners seemed to be very little guarded or regarded; then we paid a visit to General Van Alen, commanding the post, and called upon Miss Dix at the Hospital, — Lord Cornwallis’s headquarters; the best house in the place, with a wide-panelled hall and staircase. The rooms above were crowded with wounded men, all looking clean and comfortable. It is wonderful how in the midst of our own excitements these historical places impressed us, and it was hard enough to believe that the confusion, destruction, and filth about us were making a new history.
We did all this in three hours before the sick men could be brought off to the “Webster.” We shuffle about without hoops; Mrs. Griffin says it is de rigueur that they shall not be worn in hospital service. I like it very well on board ship: it is becoming to Miss Whetten, who is symmetry itself; but it must be owned that some of us look rather mediæval. I have no idea what we are to do, and I ask no questions. Mr. Olmsted is the law-giver; he knows the fact of my existence, and will use me when he wants me. It is very cold, and the air has the texture of your worst Boston weather, — steel-filings and all.
[1] Now Mrs. Gamble, of Intervale, N. H.
