HOSPITAL SKETCHES
BY
L. M. ALCOTT
"Which, naming no names, no offense could be took."—Sairy Gamp
Boston:
James Redpath, Publisher,
221 Washington Street.
1863.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1863, by
James Redpath,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of
Massachusetts
These sketches
are respectfully dedicated
to her friend
Miss Hannah Stevenson,
by
L. M. A.
Publisher's Advertisement.
A considerable portion of this volume was published in successive
numbers of The Commonwealth, newspaper, of Boston. The sudden popularity
the Sketches won from the general public, and the praise they received
from literary men of distinguished ability, are sufficient
reasons,--were any needed,--for their re-publication, thus revised and
enlarged, in this more convenient and permanent form. As, besides paying
the Author the usual copyright, the publisher has resolved to devote at
least five cents of every copy sold to the support of orphans made
fatherless or homeless by the war, no reproduction of any part of the
contents now first printed in these pages, will be permitted in any
journal. Should the sale of the little book be large, the orphans'
percentage will be doubled.
Boston, August, 1863.
Contents
Chapter Chapter Title Page
I. Obtaining Supplies 9
II. A Forward Movement 21
III. A Day 31
IV. A Night 46
V. Off Duty 66
VI. A Postscript 86
CHAPTER I
OBTAINING SUPPLIES.
"I want something to do."
This remark being addressed to the world in general, no one in
particular felt it their duty to reply; so I repeated it to the smaller
world about me, received the following suggestions, and settled the
matter by answering my own inquiry, as people are apt to do when very
much in earnest.
"Write a book," quoth the author of my being.
"Don't know enough, sir. First live, then write."
"Try teaching again," suggested my mother.
"No thank you, ma'am, ten years of that is enough."
"Take a husband like my Darby, and fulfill your mission," said sister
Joan, home on a visit.
"Can't afford expensive luxuries, Mrs. Coobiddy."
"Turn actress, and immortalize your name," said sister Vashti, striking
an attitude.
"I won't."
"Go nurse the soldiers," said my young brother, Tom, panting for "the
tented field."
"I will!"
So far, very good. Here was the will--now for the way. At first sight
not a foot of it appeared, but that didn't matter, for the Periwinkles
are a hopeful race; their crest is an anchor, with three cock-a-doodles
crowing atop. They all wear rose-colored spectacles, and are lineal
descendants of the inventor of aerial architecture. An hour's
conversation on the subject set the whole family in a blaze of
enthusiasm. A model hospital was erected, and each member had accepted
an honorable post therein. The paternal P. was chaplain, the maternal
P. was matron, and all the youthful P.s filled the pod of futurity with
achievements whose brilliancy eclipsed the glories of the present and
the past. Arriving at this satisfactory conclusion, the meeting
adjourned, and the fact that Miss Tribulation was available as army
nurse went abroad on the wings of the wind.
In a few days a townswoman heard of my desire, approved of it, and
brought about an interview with one of the sisterhood which I wished to
join, who was at home on a furlough, and able and willing to satisfy
all inquiries. A morning chat with Miss General S.--we hear no end of
Mrs. Generals, why not a Miss?--produced three results: I felt that I
could do the work, was offered a place, and accepted it, promising not
to desert, but stand ready to march on Washington at an hour's notice.
A few days were necessary for the letter containing my request and
recommendation to reach headquarters, and another, containing my
commission, to return; therefore no time was to be lost; and heartily
thanking my pair of friends, I tore home through the December slush as
if the rebels were after me, and like many another recruit, burst in
upon my family with the announcement--
"I've enlisted!"
An impressive silence followed. Tom, the irrepressible, broke it with a
slap on the shoulder and the graceful compliment--
"Old Trib, you're a trump!"
"Thank you; then I'll _take_ something:" which I did, in the shape of
dinner, reeling off my news at the rate of three dozen words to a
mouthful; and as every one else talked equally fast, and all together,
the scene was most inspiring.
As boys going to sea immediately become nautical in speech, walk as if
they already had their "sea legs" on, and shiver their timbers on all
possible occasions, so I turned military at once, called my dinner my
rations, saluted all new comers, and ordered a dress parade that very
afternoon. Having reviewed every rag I possessed, I detailed some for
picket duty while airing over the fence; some to the sanitary
influences of the wash-tub; others to mount guard in the trunk; while
the weak and wounded went to the Work-basket Hospital, to be made ready
for active service again. To this squad I devoted myself for a week;
but all was done, and I had time to get powerfully impatient before the
letter came. It did arrive however, and brought a disappointment along
with its good will and friendliness, for it told me that the place in
the Armory Hospital that I supposed I was to take, was already filled,
and a much less desirable one at Hurly-burly House was offered instead.
"That's just your luck, Trib. I'll tote your trunk up garret for you
again; for of course you won't go," Tom remarked, with the disdainful
pity which small boys affect when they get into their teens. I was
wavering in my secret soul, but that settled the matter, and I crushed
him on the spot with martial brevity--
"It is now one; I shall march at six."
I have a confused recollection of spending the afternoon in pervading
the house like an executive whirlwind, with my family swarming after
me, all working, talking, prophesying and lamenting, while I packed my
"go-abroady" possessions, tumbled the rest into two big boxes, danced
on the lids till they shut, and gave them in charge, with the
direction,--
"If I never come back, make a bonfire of them."
Then I choked down a cup of tea, generously salted instead of sugared,
by some agitated relative, shouldered my knapsack--it was only a
traveling bag, but do let me preserve the unities--hugged my family
three times all round without a vestige of unmanly emotion, till a
certain dear old lady broke down upon my neck, with a despairing sort
of wail--
"Oh, my dear, my dear, how can I let you go?"
"I'll stay if you say so, mother."
"But I don't; go, and the Lord will take care of you."
Much of the Roman matron's courage had gone into the Yankee matron's
composition, and, in spite of her tears, she would have sent ten sons
to the war, had she possessed them, as freely as she sent one daughter,
smiling and flapping on the door-step till I vanished, though the eyes
that followed me were very dim, and the handkerchief she waved was very
wet.
My transit from The Gables to the village depot was a funny mixture of
good wishes and good byes, mud-puddles and shopping. A December
twilight is not the most cheering time to enter upon a somewhat
perilous enterprise, and, but for the presence of Vashti and neighbor
Thorn, I fear that I might have added a drop of the briny to the native
moisture of--
"The town I left behind me;"
though I'd no thought of giving out: oh, bless you, no! When the engine
screeched "Here we are," I clutched my escort in a fervent embrace, and
skipped into the car with as blithe a farewell as if going on a bridal
tour--though I believe brides don't usually wear cavernous black
bonnets and fuzzy brown coats, with a hair-brush, a pair of rubbers,
two books, and a bag of ginger-bread distorting the pockets of the
same. If I thought that any one would believe it, I'd boldly state that
I slept from C. to B., which would simplify matters immensely; but as I
know they wouldn't, I'll confess that the head under the funereal
coal-hod fermented with all manner of high thoughts and heroic purposes
"to do or die,"--perhaps both; and the heart under the fuzzy brown coat
felt very tender with the memory of the dear old lady, probably sobbing
over her army socks and the loss of her topsy-turvy Trib. At this
juncture I took the veil, and what I did behind it is nobody's
business; but I maintain that the soldier who cries when his mother
says "Good bye," is the boy to fight best, and die bravest, when the
time comes, or go back to her better than he went.
Till nine o'clock I trotted about the city streets, doing those last
errands which no woman would even go to heaven without attempting, if
she could. Then I went to my usual refuge, and, fully intending to keep
awake, as a sort of vigil appropriate to the occasion, fell fast asleep
and dreamed propitious dreams till my rosy-faced cousin waked me with a
kiss.
A bright day smiled upon my enterprise, and at ten I reported myself to
my General, received last instructions and no end of the sympathetic
encouragement which women give, in look, touch, and tone more
effectually than in words. The next step was to get a free pass to
Washington, for I'd no desire to waste my substance on railroad
companies when "the boys" needed even a spinster's mite. A friend of
mine had procured such a pass, and I was bent on doing likewise, though
I had to face the president of the railroad to accomplish it. I'm a
bashful individual, though I can't get any one to believe it; so it
cost me a great effort to poke about the Worcester depot till the right
door appeared, then walk into a room containing several gentlemen, and
blunder out my request in a high state of stammer and blush. Nothing
could have been more courteous than this dreaded President, but it was
evident that I had made as absurd a demand as if I had asked for the
nose off his respectable face. He referred me to the Governor at the
State House, and I backed out, leaving him no doubt to regret that such
mild maniacs were left at large. Here was a Scylla and Charybdis
business: as if a President wasn't trying enough, without the Governor
of Massachusetts and the hub of the hub piled on top of that. "I never
can do it," thought I. "Tom will hoot at you if you don't," whispered
the inconvenient little voice that is always goading people to the
performance of disagreeable duties, and always appeals to the most
effective agent to produce the proper result. The idea of allowing any
boy that ever wore a felt basin and a shoddy jacket with a microscopic
tail, to crow over me, was preposterous, so giving myself a mental slap
for such faint-heartedness, I streamed away across the Common,
wondering if I ought to say "your Honor," or simply "Sir," and decided
upon the latter, fortifying myself with recollections of an evening in
a charming green library, where I beheld the Governor placidly
consuming oysters, and laughing as if Massachusetts was a myth, and he
had no heavier burden on his shoulders than his host's handsome hands.
Like an energetic fly in a very large cobweb, I struggled through the
State House, getting into all the wrong rooms and none of the right,
till I turned desperate, and went into one, resolving not to come out
till I'd made somebody hear and answer me. I suspect that of all the
wrong places I had blundered into, this was the most so. But I didn't
care; and, though the apartment was full of soldiers, surgeons,
starers, and spittoons, I cornered a perfectly incapable person, and
proceeded to pump for information with the following result:
"Was the Governor anywhere about?"
No, he wasn't.
"Could he tell me where to look?"
No, he couldn't.
"Did he know anything about free passes?"
No, he didn't.
"Was there any one there of whom I could inquire?"
Not a person.
"Did he know of any place where information could be obtained?"
Not a place.
"Could he throw the smallest gleam of light upon the matter, in any
way?"
Not a ray.
I am naturally irascible, and if I could have shaken this negative
gentleman vigorously, the relief would have been immense. The
prejudices of society forbidding this mode of redress, I merely
glowered at him; and, before my wrath found vent in words, my General
appeared, having seen me from an opposite window, and come to know what
I was about. At her command the languid gentleman woke up, and troubled
himself to remember that Major or Sergeant or something Mc K. knew all
about the tickets, and his office was in Milk Street. I perked up
instanter, and then, as if the exertion was too much for him, what did
this animated wet blanket do but add--
"I think Mc K. may have left Milk Street, now, and I don't know where
he has gone."
"Never mind; the new comers will know where he has moved to, my dear,
so don't be discouraged; and if you don't succeed, come to me, and we
will see what to do next," said my General.
I blessed her in a fervent manner and a cool hall, fluttered round the
corner, and bore down upon Milk Street, bent on discovering Mc K. if
such a being was to be found. He wasn't, and the ignorance of the
neighborhood was really pitiable. Nobody knew anything, and after
tumbling over bundles of leather, bumping against big boxes, being
nearly annihilated by descending bales, and sworn at by aggravated
truckmen, I finally elicited the advice to look for Mc K. in Haymarket
Square. Who my informant was I've really forgotten; for, having hailed
several busy gentlemen, some one of them fabricated this delusive
quietus for the perturbed spirit, who instantly departed to the
sequestered locality he named. If I had been in search of the
Koh-i-noor diamond I should have been as likely to find it there as any
vestige of Mc K. I stared at signs, inquired in shops, invaded an
eating house, visited the recruiting tent in the middle of the Square,
made myself a nuisance generally, and accumulated mud enough to retard
another Nile. All in vain: and I mournfully turned my face toward the
General's, feeling that I should be forced to enrich the railroad
company after all; when, suddenly, I beheld that admirable young man,
brother-in-law Darby Coobiddy, Esq. I arrested him with a burst of
news, and wants, and woes, which caused his manly countenance to lose
its usual repose.
"Oh, my dear boy, I'm going to Washington at five, and I can't find the
free ticket man, and there won't be time to see Joan, and I'm so tired
and cross I don't know what to do; and will you help me, like a cherub
as you are?"
"Oh, yes, of course. I know a fellow who will set us right," responded
Darby, mildly excited, and darting into some kind of an office, held
counsel with an invisible angel, who sent him out radiant. "All serene.
I've got him. I'll see you through the business, and then get Joan from
the Dove Cote in time to see you off."
I'm a woman's rights woman, and if any man had offered help in the
morning, I should have condescendingly refused it, sure that I could do
everything as well, if not better, myself. My strong-mindedness had
rather abated since then, and I was now quite ready to be a "timid
trembler," if necessary. Dear me! how easily Darby did it all: he just
asked one question, received an answer, tucked me under his arm, and in
ten minutes I stood in the presence of Mc K., the Desired.
"Now my troubles are over," thought I, and as usual was direfully
mistaken.
"You will have to get a pass from Dr. H., in Temple Place, before I can
give you a pass, madam," answered Mc K., as blandly as if he wasn't
carrying desolation to my soul. Oh, indeed! why didn't he send me to
Dorchester Heights, India Wharf, or Bunker Hill Monument, and done with
it? Here I was, after a morning's tramp, down in some place about Dock
Square, and was told to step to Temple Place. Nor was that all; he
might as well have asked me to catch a humming-bird, toast a salamander,
or call on the man in the moon, as find a Doctor at home at the busiest
hour of the day. It was a blow; but weariness had extinguished
enthusiasm, and resignation clothed me as a garment. I sent Darby for
Joan, and doggedly paddled off, feeling that mud was my native element,
and quite sure that the evening papers would announce the appearance of
the Wandering Jew, in feminine habiliments.
"Is Dr. H. in?"
"No, mum, he aint."
Of course he wasn't; I knew that before I asked: and, considering it
all in the light of a hollow mockery, added:
"When will he probably return?"
If the damsel had said, "ten to-night," I should have felt a grim
satisfaction, in the fulfillment of my own dark prophecy; but she said,
"At two, mum;" and I felt it a personal insult.
"I'll call, then. Tell him my business is important:" with which
mysteriously delivered message I departed, hoping that I left her
consumed with curiosity; for mud rendered me an object of interest.
By way of resting myself, I crossed the Common, for the third time,
bespoke the carriage, got some lunch, packed my purchases, smoothed my
plumage, and was back again, as the clock struck two. The Doctor hadn't
come yet; and I was morally certain that he would not, till, having
waited till the last minute, I was driven to buy a ticket, and, five
minutes after the irrevocable deed was done, he would be at my service,
with all manner of helpful documents and directions. Everything goes by
contraries with me; so, having made up my mind to be disappointed, of
course I wasn't; for, presently, in walked Dr. H., and no sooner had he
heard my errand, and glanced at my credentials, than he said, with the
most engaging readiness:
"I will give you the order, with pleasure, madam."
Words cannot express how soothing and delightful it was to find, at
last, somebody who could do what I wanted, without sending me from Dan
to Beersheba, for a dozen other bodies to do something else first. Peace
descended, like oil, upon the ruffled waters of my being, as I sat
listening to the busy scratch of his pen; and, when he turned about,
giving me not only the order, but a paper of directions wherewith to
smooth away all difficulties between Boston and Washington, I felt as
did poor Christian when the Evangelist gave him the scroll, on the safe
side of the Slough of Despond. I've no doubt many dismal nurses have
inflicted themselves upon the worthy gentleman since then; but I am
sure none have been more kindly helped, or are more grateful, than T.
P.; for that short interview added another to the many pleasant
associations that already surround his name.
Feeling myself no longer a "Martha Struggles," but a comfortable young
woman, with plain sailing before her, and the worst of the voyage well
over, I once more presented myself to the valuable Mc K. The order was
read, and certain printed papers, necessary to be filled out, were
given a young gentleman--no, I prefer to say Boy, with a scornful
emphasis upon the word, as the only means of revenge now left me. This
Boy, instead of doing his duty with the diligence so charming in the
young, loitered and lounged, in a manner which proved his education to
have been sadly neglected in the--
"How doth the little busy bee,"
direction. He stared at me, gaped out of the window, ate peanuts, and
gossiped with his neighbors--Boys, like himself, and all penned in a
row, like colts at a Cattle Show. I don't imagine he knew the anguish
he was inflicting; for it was nearly three, the train left at five, and
I had my ticket to get, my dinner to eat, my blessed sister to see, and
the depot to reach, if I didn't die of apoplexy. Meanwhile, Patience
certainly had her perfect work that day, and I hope she enjoyed the job
more than I did. Having waited some twenty minutes, it pleased this
reprehensible Boy to make various marks and blots on my documents, toss
them to a venerable creature of sixteen, who delivered them to me with
such paternal directions, that it only needed a pat on the head and an
encouraging--"Now run home to your Ma, little girl, and mind the
crossings, my dear," to make the illusion quite perfect.
Why I was sent to a steamboat office for car tickets, is not for me to
say, though I went as meekly as I should have gone to the Probate
Court, if sent. A fat, easy gentleman gave me several bits of paper,
with coupons attached, with a warning not to separate them, which
instantly inspired me with a yearning to pluck them apart, and see what
came of it. But, remembering through what fear and tribulation I had
obtained them, I curbed Satan's promptings, and, clutching my prize, as
if it were my pass to the Elysian Fields, I hurried home. Dinner was
rapidly consumed; Joan enlightened, comforted, and kissed; the dearest
of apple-faced cousins hugged; the kindest of apple-faced cousins'
fathers subjected to the same process; and I mounted the ambulance,
baggage-wagon, or anything you please but hack, and drove away, too
tired to feel excited, sorry, or glad.