Yesterday the worst, many with
bad and bloody wounds, inevitably long neglected. I thought I was
cooler and more used to it, but the sight of some cases brought tears
into my eyes. I had the luck yesterday, however, to do lots of good.
Had provided many nourishing articles for the men for another quarter,
but, fortunately, had my stores where I could use them at once for
these new-comers, as they arrived, faint, hungry, fagg'd out from
their journey, with soil'd clothes, and all bloody. I distributed
these articles, gave partly to the nurses I knew, or to those in
charge. As many as possible I fed myself. Then I found a lot of oyster
soup handy, and bought it all at once.
It is the most pitiful sight, this, when the men are first brought in,
from some camp hospital broke up, or a part of the army moving. These
who arrived yesterday are cavalry men. Our troops had fought like
devils, but got the worst of it. They were Kilpatrick's cavalry; were
in the rear, part of Meade's retreat, and the reb cavalry, knowing the
ground and taking a favorable opportunity, dash'd in between, cut them
off, and shell'd them terribly. But Kilpatrick turn'd and brought them
out mostly. It was last Sunday. (One of the most terrible sights and
tasks is of such receptions.)
_Oct. 27, 1863_.--If any of the soldiers I know (or their parents or
folks) should call upon you--as they are often anxious to have my
address in Brooklyn--you just use them as you know how, and if you
happen to have pot-luck, and feel to ask them to take a bite, don't
be afraid to do so.
Pages:
730
731
732
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744
745
746
747
748
749
750
751
752
753
754