CHAPTER IX.

MORE TROUBLE WITH DOCTORS—DISCHARGE-PAPERS DELAYED—RECORDS EXAMINED—THE REPORT—REMOVAL OF A SURGEON—DISCHARGE BY DEATH—A SURGEON QUARRELS WITH ONE OF HIS PATIENTS—HIS REMOVAL—LOW STATE OF OUR FINANCES—THOUGHTS OF DISORGANIZING—THE APPEAL FOR AID—RECEIPT OF GOODS—A SELF-SACRIFICING MOTHER—BATTLE NEAR KELLY’S FORD.

October 19th.

I went to Alexandria this morning to learn whether the reports concerning the treatment of some of our boys in a certain hospital in that city were true. Arriving at the hospital, I asked for a list of the Michigan men who were there, obtaining which, I started to go through the wards, when an orderly came running after me, saying: “The doctor says you can’t go through the hospital.” This was something new, and I began to think there was some truth in the reports. I went directly to the doctor’s office and inquired what all this meant. He replied, “You must have a written permit from Dr. Bently, who is surgeon-in-charge of this division, before youcan go through my hospital.” I still insisted on going through, without waiting to see Dr. B., whose office was nearly a mile from there. “Well, then,” he said, “I will go and see him myself, and you can wait until I return.” “But I can’t wait, doctor; I shall go through the wards while you are gone,” was my reply. He hesitated a moment, and then said: “Well, you may go through them this time. I guess it will be all right.” “I know it will be all right, doctor,” I answered. He left the hospital, while I made a tour of inspection through it, and, before leaving, I was convinced that the reports in circulation were not wholly without foundation.... Not long after this, I called to see Dr. Bently and inquired if it were necessary for me to have a pass from him, in order to be admitted to the hospitals in his division, and then related the unpleasant interview with one of his surgeons. “By no means,” he said. “And you tell the doctor for me, that you have the privilege of visiting my hospitals as often as you wish, and at such times as best suit your convenience. If you have any more trouble, let me know.” But I managed to fight my own battles thereafter, without calling upon him again, and at length gained the victory, as will be seen a few pages hence.

A few days after, I again visited the hospital, takingwith me, among other things, two large bottles of blackberry-wine, designed for special cases. At the door I was informed by the guard that the doctor was not in, and that he had given him positive orders to admit no one—not even the President of the United States—during his absence. I did not wish the soldier to violate orders, but I did want to be admitted. I finally obtained the desired permission from the sergeant of the guard. I left the wine in care of one of the nurses, with instructions to give none of it to the patients until the doctor’s return; if it met his approbation, well. Seeing no cause for offence, I left the hospital before his “highness” returned. But upon my next visit I learned that the doctor, upon his return, was mad with rage, and, seizing one of the bottles, hurled it out of the window—the other was saved by being hidden under the sick man’s pillow for whom it was intended—shamefully abused the guard, threatened the sergeant (which, haply, was all he could do, there being a limit to his power), and declared that his orders should be obeyed. He for whom the wine was hidden took it without the doctor’s knowledge, and recovered; while the other—poor Mr. Kinney—died a few days after. I do not know that, in the former case, the wine hastened the sick man’s recovery, neither do I believe that it retarded it. As to the other, I do not think it wouldhave saved life or hastened death; but there being so little hope of his recovery, and he so anxious to take it, it seemed cruel and inhuman to deny him. Let the case be as it may, with reference to those in question, there were many instances in which blackberry-wine was the means of saving life and restoring health.

Not long after this, I made application to this same high official (!)—a contract surgeon, with the rank of lieutenant—for the discharge of two soldiers, viz., Steven Benson, of the Seventh Michigan Cavalry, and Daniel Peters, of the Sixth—the former sick with consumption, the other with chronic diarrhœa. I was informed by the doctor that these two persons had already been examined for discharge, their papers made out, and forwarded to the office of the Medical Director for approval. This of course satisfied me; but I always made it convenient, whenever I went to Alexandria to call and inquire concerning them. Weeks passed, and nothing was heard from them. I again went to the doctor, and inquired “if he could account for the delay.” He replied: “I made up my mind some days ago that they were lost, and have had them made out the second time, and I have no doubt they will be returned in a few days.” I now felt doubly sure that all was as he had said.

After waiting a reasonable length of time, I wentover again—for I felt exceedingly anxious about them—when, to my surprise, I learned that nothing had yet been heard from them. I returned to Washington, went to the Medical Director’s, and inquired why it was those papers were so long delayed. The records were examined, and I was informed that no such papers had ever been received there. I insisted that it must be, as they had been sent the second time. The books were again referred to, and carefully examined, but with the same result as before. I left the office, and immediately reported the facts to our secretary, who reported the same to the committee appointed by the Secretary of War, to investigate all such matters. What weight this report had with the committee I did not learn, but I was satisfied to know soon after that that surgeon was removed from the hospital. The discharge papers were then made out, but ere their return to the hospital poor Benson had received his final discharge from earth. Peters lived to go home, but whether he recovered or found an early grave I know not.

Not long after this I accompanied Mrs. Brainard to one of our hospitals in Washington. As we entered the building, we were confronted by the surgeon-in-charge, who demanded of Mrs. B. to know what she had in that basket. “Flannel shirts and drawers,” she replied. “Well, you can’t take them into myhospital,” was his quick and irritable response, at the same time seizing the basket and endeavoring to wrench it from Mrs. B’s. hands; but, nothing daunted, she gave a sudden jerk backward and cleared it from the doctor’s grasp, saying, as she found herself in full possession of her goods, “I understand my business, sir, and am going to take my things into the hospital.” Mr. “Pomposity” passed on, and we entered the office at our left, where we were greeted with a graceful salute by the officer of the day, who pleasantly inquired, “What can I do for you this morning?” Our request, being made known, is cheerfully granted, and our basket is soon made lighter and the sick boys happier. The difference there was in officers will readily be seen from this incident. A little “brass” did wonders for some; it made them arrogant, overbearing, dictatorial and tyrannical, while with others it made no difference whether they wore the corporal’s stripe or the general’s star. Garments of blue, though bordered with gold, have no power to crush the generous impulses of a noble soul. The true gentleman is discernible in any garb, and under all circumstances. The surgeon with whom we had this encounter soon after got into trouble with one of his patients. One cold morning before daylight, one of the wards of his hospital took fire. This patient, a convalescent from pneumonia, was the first on the roof,where he remained throwing bucket after bucket of water upon the burning building, until the fire was extinguished. As his clothes were dripping with water when he descended, he applied for some dry ones; but, as none could be obtained from the ward, he appealed to the surgeon, who ordered him back to his ward, telling him he could dry his clothes by the fire; he still insisted upon having some, and the doctor still refused, and again ordered him to his ward. By this time the soldier’s anger was pretty well aroused, and, confronting the doctor with clenched fist, says, “Take care, doctor, I have smelled gunpowder, and that is more than you have done,” at the same time planting a blow between his eyes that caused him to stagger and nearly fall to the floor. Rallying from this stunning blow, he called out, “Guards, guards, come and take this man away.” The order was obeyed, and he was locked up in the guard-house. The consequence was a relapse, which for a long time threatened his life. But, once released without having charges being preferred against him, and having a good understanding of military regulations, he found that he had the advantage of the doctor, and he improved it by preferring charges against him. The result was, that in a few weeks we had another surgeon in charge of the hospital—one whom the patients, as far as I ever knew, honored and respected.

I have known other surgeons who deserved as little respect as those here referred to; but, to the honor of the profession be it said, they were not in the majority. I knew many noble, skilful, self-sacrificing surgeons in the army, whose whole energies were devoted to the making of their hospitals pleasant and their patients comfortable.

Toward the close of the month of November the finances of our Association became very low. No money was received to replenish our exhausted treasury—no supplies reached us, if I mistake not, except a few boxes from Lansing. Had it not been for stores received from other States than our own, our work would almost entirely have ceased.

In addition to what Mrs. Brainard received from New York and Maryland, a nice barrel of goods was sent me from Harbor Creek, Pa., another from Portland, Me., and a firkin of pickles from an aged lady living in Hampden, Maine. The work of preparing these had all been done by herself; but her labor was a thousandfold repaid in gratitude and thanks and the good accomplished.

We occasionally drew from the Sanitary and Christian Commissions, and the various State Relief Associations, and thus managed to keep at work. For occasional drafts on the Sanitary Commission we were indebted to the personal efforts of our StateAgent, Dr. Tunnecliff. In the barrel of goods which I have mentioned as coming from Maine, was a suit of clothes once worn by Captain Crosby, of the Twenty-second Maine volunteers, who was killed at the battle of Port Hudson. The clothes were sent by his patriotic mother, with the request that they be given to some needy Maine soldier, as she wished them to be worn out in the service in which her dear son had fallen. What a noble example of self-sacrificing devotion to country!

In order to lessen expenses, Mrs. Brainard—who had returned from Gettysburg a month before—and I took rooms together and boarded ourselves. A meeting of the officers of the Association was called to consider the subject of disorganizing; but they concluded to try and maintain the organization until spring, for they could not bear the thought that Michigan—the first to form a State Relief Association at the National Capital—should be the first to abandon it. An appeal was made through correspondence, by our Secretary, to Governor Blair, members of Congress, and other persons of influence in the State, setting forth the exhausted condition of our treasury and storeroom, and inquiring what course to pursue. The uniform response was: “Don’t for a moment think of discontinuing your labors as a society.” An appeal was then made to the people ofour State, and not many weeks elapsed ere the call was heeded, as the supplies received proved. Battles and skirmishes were of no unfrequent occurrence. A large number of wounded were brought in from the battles near Kelly’s Ford—Michigan not losing as heavily as Maine and Wisconsin. The Sixth Maine, in one engagement, lost eighteen commissioned officers in killed and wounded.

Among those who were passing, one after another, into the unknown world, was William Doyle, of the Third Michigan volunteers, whose death was sudden—unexpected. He was convalescing from intermittent fever, and had written to his wife, stating the time she might hope to welcome him home, as he had applied for a furlough which he was daily expecting. He predicted rightly. The time of his arrival was only a little delayed. But, alas! only the clay tenement returned to rest where loving hands would bedeck its tomb with flowers, and the tears of affection water his grave.

“Underneath the sod low lying,Dark and drear,Sleepeth one, who left in dyingSorrow here.“Yes, they’re ever bending o’er himEyes that weep;Forms that to the cold earth bore him,Vigils keep.“When the summer moon is shiningSoft and fair,Friends he loved, in tears are twiningChaplets there.“Rest in peace, thou gentle spiritThroned above;Souls like thine with God inheritLife and love!”

“Underneath the sod low lying,Dark and drear,Sleepeth one, who left in dyingSorrow here.

“Underneath the sod low lying,

Dark and drear,

Sleepeth one, who left in dying

Sorrow here.

“Yes, they’re ever bending o’er himEyes that weep;Forms that to the cold earth bore him,Vigils keep.

“Yes, they’re ever bending o’er him

Eyes that weep;

Forms that to the cold earth bore him,

Vigils keep.

“When the summer moon is shiningSoft and fair,Friends he loved, in tears are twiningChaplets there.

“When the summer moon is shining

Soft and fair,

Friends he loved, in tears are twining

Chaplets there.

“Rest in peace, thou gentle spiritThroned above;Souls like thine with God inheritLife and love!”

“Rest in peace, thou gentle spirit

Throned above;

Souls like thine with God inherit

Life and love!”

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