The lights were put out, all but a little candle,
far from where I sat. The full moon shone in through the windows,
making long, slanting silvery patches on the floor. All was still, my
friend too was silent, but could not sleep; so I sat there by him,
slowly wafting the fan, and occupied with the musings that arose out
of the scene, the long shadowy ward, the beautiful ghostly moonlight
on the floor, the white beds, here and there an occupant with huddled
form, the bed-clothes thrown off. The hospitals have a number of cases
of sun-stroke and exhaustion by heat, from the late reviews. There
are many such from the Sixth corps, from the hot parade of day before
yesterday. (Some of these shows cost the lives of scores of men.)
_Sunday, Sep. 10_.--Visited Douglas and Stanton hospitals. They are
quite full. Many of the cases are bad ones, lingering wounds, and
old sickness. There is a more than usual look of despair on the
countenances of many of the men; hope has left them. I went through
the wards, talking as usual. There are several here from the
confederate army whom I had seen in other hospitals, and they
recognized me. Two were in a dying condition.
CALHOUN'S REAL MONUMENT
In one of the hospital tents for special cases, as I sat to-day
tending a new amputation, I heard a couple of neighboring soldiers
talking to each other from their cots. One down with fever, but
improving, had come up belated from Charleston not long before.
The other was what we now call an "old veteran," (_i.
Pages:
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137