From New York my father and Uncle were accompanied by my cousin Edward
Snyder. He was a grand man. He had tried several times to enter the
service, but was rejected. For years he had been in the employ of the
American Express Co. and knew how to push his way through a crowd. The
jam was so great to get to the battlefield, and the transportation so
inadequate, they might have been delayed several days, but for the
steering qualifications of Snyder. He elbowed and managed in such a way
that he and the doctor got onto an open flat bottomed car headed for
Gettysburg the same day. On their arrival it was no small job to find
me, but a half day's search and inquiry brought them to my tent, a large
hospital tent holding some sixteen men, everyone of whom had, I
believed, sustained an amputation. They had found the Chaplain of the
64th New York, a thoroughly good man, qualified for the office, as many
chaplains were not. This Chaplain had been of great service since the
battle; his work in behalf of the men was tireless. Earlier in the day
he had talked with me, trying to brace me up and make me hopeful. I
remember saying to him, "If I were where I could have the best of care,
I might pull through, but that is impossible." I knew that my chances
were few and scant. About noon he came to me and said, "Fuller, can you
stand some good news?" I said, "Yes, if ever I could I can now." He
said, "Some one has come to see you?" I asked, "Is it Dr. King?" He
said, "Yes." I looked to the other side of the tent, and there in the
doorway stood my uncle, and just behind him Edward Snyder. The doctor
was short and thick and Snyder was tall and thin, so I had a view of
both of their faces at once. It was a sight so photographed in my memory
that it is as fresh to-day as when it was taken. The doctor remained at
the field hospital for about ten days. During that time he took charge
of about a dozen amputated cases, and while he was rather squatty for an
Angel, the men regarded him as one of mercy. By the end of ten days from
his coming the doctor told me that I was making no progress and ought to
be moved where I could get better air. He got permission for my removal
into the village. Two men carried me on a stretcher. When the doctor
left the boys he had been caring for, there were few dry eyes on their
faces. I was taken to the house of Mr. Carson, cashier of one of the
banks. On the approach of Lee's army, Mr. Carson had taken the cash and
valuables to Philadelphia. At this time every house in town was at the
service of any wounded, or their friends. When I was deposited at his
house, Mr. Carson was in Philadelphia to get and return the bank's
property, but Mrs. Carson was there, and, if I had been a near relative,
she could not have done more to make my stay tolerable. As an instance
of the romance in war the following occurred. Mrs. Carson's brother was
an officer in a Maine battery. He was in the first day's engagement and
was quite badly wounded. He managed to get to his sister's house, I
believe he was not disturbed by the Rebels, and left for his home the
day before I came.
After a few days in the village, consent was obtained for me to start
for home. We were on the way for about a week, and everywhere on the
route the greatest kindness was shown save in one instance. That was at
the Albany station, and with the New York Central's employees. It was
necessary to put my stretcher with me on it into the baggage car. I was
set down by the side of the car, asking that it be done. By the
treatment I got from the men in charge, one would take them to be a gang
of copperheads. Seeing that they were going to refuse me admission to
the car, I began to call them off in no gentle manner. My billingsgate
caused a crowd to gather. I informed the trainmen and the people
assembled that if I could have a squad of my regiment there for a very
few minutes, I would go in that car, or that train would be a wreck. I
soon had the sympathy of the lookers on, and some of them suggested that
I would go into that car, or it might not be necessary for me to have
any of the 61st there to make things interesting. The disobliging
servants of the road did not care to have more of a demonstration, and
the door was shoved open, and, in no gracious manner, I was put on
board, and started for Utica. I think those New York Central loafers
would have left me there to have fly-blowed had they not feared the
temper of the crowd. It was a painful surprise to me to meet such
indifference, if not hostility, in Central New York, when I had just
experienced such helpful kindness in Baltimore, Philadelphia, and even
in New York, a place that usually cares for nothing and no one, except
commercially. From Utica I was taken in an ambulance to Unadilla Forks,
N. Y.
At the end of a week my shoulder was operated on, and three inches of
the humerus taken out from the shoulder joint down. The operation was
performed by Dr. King, and was an excellent one. A week after that
operation, an incision was made into the stump and the bullet that broke
the leg was taken out. That it was in the stump was, of course, a
surprise, and when the surgeons of my regiment were informed what had
been done, they claimed to be much surprised, and said that they traced
out the bullet that they amputated for, and that the bullet extracted by
Dr. King must have been a second one. I have always had the impression
that I was hit in the leg lower down, and before the one came that broke
the leg, but of that I am not certain.
With two such wounds as I had, and one poisoned for six weeks with a
Minnie bullet, it was a slow process to recover, but I made steady
progress with, of course, occasional pull backs.
I think it was in September, 1863, and after I reached my home, that
George Jacobs, a sergeant in my company of New Berlin, called on me.
George was _one_ of the best soldiers in the regiment. In a fight no one
could be better. He was home on a ten days furlough. Of course, the best
in the land was free to him, and he was feasted by parents and friends.
As he was about ready to start back, he was taken violently sick with a
stomach trouble and died in a few hours.
In December, 1863, I was ordered to report at a hospital at Annapolis,
Md. I started alone with one crutch, and my arm in a sling. At Albany I
stopped over night with my cousin Stewart Campbell, and well remember
that evening reading in the _Atlantic Monthly_ that wonderful story, "A
Man Without a Country," by Edward Everett Hale. It made a deep
impression on my mind and it confirmed the sentiment I had cherished
that it was well worth hardship, wounds, loss of limbs, or life even, to
have a hand in preserving in its integrity such a country as ours. I
reached Annapolis all right. In about a week I was ordered to
Washington, and mustered out. This ended my connection with one of the
best regiments in the service in the War of the Rebellion. I do not say
this, I think, unadvisedly, nor from a mistaken sense of the quality of
the rank and file of the regiment, but rather from the character of the
commanding officers of the regiment while under Barlow and Miles. Each
of them officers whose equal it was hard to find. They were men of
dauntless courage and rare military judgment, who LED their men into
battle, and under them if a soldier wanted to slink, as a rule, he
deemed it safer to face the enemy than to let either one of them suspect
he was slinking.
I have now told my story as a soldier, and the purpose of this pamphlet
is ended. In conclusion I want to register my admiration for the war
power of a country. It is a splendid employment to be in the Army, or
Navy of one's country! The office of the War Power is to maintain order
and right at home, and defend the flag from foreign aggression. It is
not the first and main business of the soldier to kill anyone; he is put
in motion only after peacable means for righteousness have failed. Then
he comes forward and says to the obstructor and the enemy of right:
"Desist, surrender, give way!" and it is only after refusal and a show
of hostile force that the soldier shoots his gun, and when he shoots he
prefers to wound, disable and capture, rather than to kill.
Of course, we all ought to encourage the avoidance of war, and the
promotion of peace, but the wise ruler, while so doing, will have an
adequate army to make it certain that he cannot be overborne by
evil-minded persons, and the enemies of his government. Mankind must be
dealt with as it is, and not on a fanciful, theoretical basis.
Really the Army is the strong arm of the executive part of the
governmental machinery. The sheriff and constable may be resisted and
fail; the posse comitatus they call to their aid may prove inadequate,
and then there is nothing to look to but the Army.
If I had a son 18 years of age, I would not feel bad to see him enrolled
for a three years enlistment in the United States Army, or Navy. I would
expect he would be discharged at the end of the term improved by the
discipline. The wearer of the uniform ought to be honored by the people
and accorded as broad a place in society as if he were a member of what
is termed "one of the learned professions." The treatment accorded our
soldiers and sailors by some rich, ill-bred snobs in this country is to
their lasting disgrace, and it is to be hoped that such stupid idiots
may live to see the day when they will bitterly repent their fool
actions.
* * * * * *
Transcriber's note:
Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).
The use of quotation marks in the original does not conform
to modern standards, and many quotations were left unclosed.
Quotation marks were left as they appear in the original book.
The following misprints have been corrected:
"Isreal" corrected to "Israel" (page 5)
"Hamiltom" corrected to "Hamilton" (page 6)
"Calfornia" corrected to "California" (page 11)
"isssued" corrected to "issued" (page 12)
"million's" corrected to "millions" (page 22)
"Heintzleman" corrected to "Heintzelman" (page 23)
"company" corrected to "Company" (page 25)
"sitution" corrected to "situation" (page 25)
"amunition" corrected to "ammunition" (page 30)
"appetiate" corrected to "appetite" (page 35)
"asociation" corrected to "association" (page 40)
"supprise" corrected to "surprise" (page 41)
"Sweedish" corrected to "Swedish" (page 41)
"sergents" corrected to "sergeants" (page 41)
"journed" corrected to "journeyed" (page 44)
"in in" corrected to "in" (page 44)
"eneny" corrected to "enemy" (page 48)
"seige" corrected to "siege" (page 48)
"moistend" corrected to "moistened" (page 49)
"lamost" corrected to "almost" (page 51)
"barrow" corrected to "borrow" (page 53)
"company" corrected to "Company" (page 54)
"amutated" corrected to "amputated" (page 56)
"agian" corrected to "again" (page 60)
"company" corrected to "Company" (page 61)
"waa" corrected to "was" (page 62)
"Anteitam" corrected to "Antietam" (page 62)
"opportuity" corrected to "opportunity" (page 63)
"siezes" corrected to "seizes" (page 64)
"acinto action" corrected to "action" (page 66)
"bridage" corrected to "brigade" (page 66)
"dispargement" corrected to "disparagement" (page 70)
"Gettysbusg" corrected to "Gettysburg" (page 70)
"Symth" corrected to "Smyth" (page 70)
"heorically" corrected to "heroically" (page 71)
"Boliver" corrected to "Bolivar" (page 73)
"couln't" corrected to "couldn't" (page 73)
"interruped" corrected to "interrupted" (page 74)
"reconnoissance" corrected to "reconnaissance" (page 74)
"Junuis" corrected to "Junius" (page 75)
"calvary" corrected to "cavalry" (page 75)
"poonton" corrected to "pontoon" (page 77)
"striken" corrected to "stricken" (page 90)
"chunck" corrected to "chunk" (page 93)
"swaped" corrected to "swapped" (page 98)
"resistence" corrected to "resistance" (page 99)
"quiet" corrected to "quite" (page 100)
"Anapolis" corrected to "Annapolis" (page 107)