All the world has heard a great deal of the sufferings and mortality
of the English and French armies in the late Russian war; and in most
countries the story has been heard to some purpose. Reforms and new
methods have been instituted in almost every country in Europe,--so
strong has been the effect of the mere outline of the case, which is all
that has been furnished to the public. The broad facts of the singular
mortality first, and the singular healthfulness of the British army
afterwards, on the same spot and under the same military circumstances
as before, have interested all rulers of armies, and brought about great
benefits to the soldier, throughout the length and breadth of Europe.
Within these broad outlines there was a multitude of details which were
never recorded in a systematic way, or which, for good and sufficient
reasons, could not be made public at the time; and these details are the
part of the story most interesting to soldiers actually in the field
or likely to be called there soon. They are also deeply interesting to
every order of persons concerned in a civil war; for such a war summons
forth a citizen soldiery to form a system for themselves in regard to
the life of the march and the camp, and to do the best they can for that
life and health which they have devoted to their country. Under such
circumstances it cannot but be interesting to the patriots in the camp
and to their families at home to know some facts which they cannot have
heard before of the mistakes made at the beginning of the last Russian
war, and the repair of those mistakes before the end of it. The prompt
and anxious care exercised by the American Sanitary Commission, and the
benevolent diligence bestowed on the organization of hospitals for the
Federal forces, show that the lesson of the Crimean campaign has been
studied in the United States; and this is an encouragement to afford
further illustrations of the case, when new material is at command.
I am thinking most of the volunteer forces at this moment, for the
obvious reason that their health is in greater danger than that of the
professional soldier. The regular troops live under a system which is
always at work to feed, clothe, lodge, and entertain them: whereas
the volunteers are quitting one mode of life for another, all the
circumstances of which had to be created at the shortest notice. To them
their first campaign must be very like what it was to British soldiers
who had never seen war to be sent to Turkey first, and then to the
Crimea, to live a new kind of life, and meet discomforts and dangers
which they had never dreamed of. I shall therefore select my details
with a view to the volunteers and their friends in the first place.
The enthusiasm which started the volunteers of every Northern State on
their new path of duty could hardly exceed that by which the British
troops were escorted from their barrack-gates to the margin of the sea.
The war was universally approved (except by a clique of peace-men); and
there was a universal confidence that the troops would do their duty
well, though not one man in a thousand of them had ever seen war. As
they marched down to their ships, in the best mood, and with every
appearance of health and spirit, nobody formed any conception of what
would happen. Parliament had fulfilled the wishes of the people
by voting liberal sums for the due support of the troops; the
Administration desired and ordered that everything should be done for
the soldier's welfare; and as far as orders and arrangements went, the
scheme was thoroughly well intended and generous. Who could anticipate,
that, while the enemy never once gained a battle or obtained an
advantage over British or French, two-thirds of that fine stout British
force would perish in a few months? Of the twenty-five thousand who went
out, eighteen thousand were dead in a year; and the enemy was answerable
for a very small proportion of those deaths. Before me lie the returns
of six months of those twelve, showing the fate of the troops for that
time; and it furnishes the key to the whole story.
In those six months, the admissions into hospital in the Crimea
(exclusive of the Santari Hospital) were 52,548. The number shows that
many must have entered the hospitals more than once, as well as that the
place of the dead was supplied by new comers from England. Of these,
nearly fifty thousand were absolutely untouched by the Russians. Only
3,806 of the whole number were wounded. Even this is not the most
striking circumstance. It is more impressive that three-fourths of the
sick suffered unnecessarily. Seventy-five per cent. of them suffered
from preventable diseases. That is, the naturally sick were 12,563;
while the needlessly sick were 36,179. When we look at the deaths from
this number, the case appears still more striking. The deaths were
5,359; and of these scarcely more than the odd hundreds were from
wounds,--that is, 373. Of the remainder, little more than one-tenth were
unavoidable deaths. The natural deaths, as we may call them, were only
521; while the preventable deaths were 4,465. Very different would have
been the spirit of the parting in England, if the soldiers' friends had
imagined that so small a number would fall by Russian gun or bayonet, or
by natural sickness, while the mortality from mismanagement would at one
season of the next year exceed that of London in the worst days of the
Great Plague.
That the case was really what is here represented was proved by the
actual prevention of this needless sickness during the last year of the
war. In the same camp, and under the same circumstances of warfare, the
mortality was reduced, by good management, to a degree unhoped for by
all but those who achieved it. The deaths for the last half year were
one-third fewer than at home! And yet the army that died was composed of
fine, well-trained troops; while the army that lived and flourished was
of a far inferior material when it came out,--raw, untravelled, and
unhardened to the military life.
How did these things happen? There can be no more important question for
Americans at this time.
I will not go into the history of the weaknesses and faults of the
administration of departments at home. They have been abundantly
published already; and we may hope that they bear no relation to the
American case. It is more interesting to look into the circumstances of
the march and the camp, for illustration of what makes the health or the
sickness of the soldier.
Wherever the men were to provide themselves with anything to eat or to
wear out of their pay, they were found to suffer. There is no natural
market, with fair prices, in the neighborhood of warfare; and, on the
one hand, a man cannot often get what he wishes, and, on the other,
he is tempted to buy something not so good for him. If there are
commissariat stores opened, there is an endless accumulation of
business,--a mass of accounts to keep of the stoppages from the men's
pay. On all accounts it is found better for all parties that the wants
of the soldier should be altogether supplied in the form of rations of
varied food and drink, and of clothing varying with climate and season.
In regard to food, which comes first in importance of the five heads of
the soldier's wants, the English soldier was remarkably helpless till
he learned better. The Russians cut that matter very short. Every man
carried a certain portion of black rye bread and some spirit. No cooking
was required, and the men were very independent. But the diet is bad;
and the Russian regiments were composed of sallow-faced men, who died
"like flies" under frequently recurring epidemics. The Turks were in
their own country, and used their accustomed diet. The French are the
most apt, the most practised, and the most economical managers of food
of any of the parties engaged in the war. Their campaigns in Algeria had
taught them how to help themselves; and they could obtain a decent meal
where an Englishman would have eaten nothing, or something utterly
unwholesome. The Sardinians came next, and it was edifying to see how
they could build a fire-place and obtain a fire in a few minutes to boil
their pot. In other ways both French and Sardinians suffered miserably
when the British had surmounted their misfortunes. The mortality from
cholera and dysentery in the French force, during the last year, was
uncalculated and unreported. It was so excessive as, in fact, to close
the war too soon. The Sardinians were ravaged by disease from their huts
being made partly under ground. But, so far as the preparation of their
food went, both had the advantage of the British, in a way which will
never happen again. I believe the Americans and the English are bad
cooks in about the same degree; and the warning afforded by the one may
be accepted by the other.
At the end of a day, in Bulgaria or the Crimea, what happened was this.
The soldiers who did not understand cooking or messing had to satisfy
their hunger any way they could. They were so exhausted that they were
sure to drink up their allowance of grog the first moment they could lay
hands on it. Then there was hard biscuit, a lump of very salt pork or
beef, as hard as a board, and some coffee, raw. Those who had no touch
of scurvy (and they were few) munched their biscuit while they poked
about everywhere with a knife, digging up roots or cutting green wood to
make a fire. Each made a hole in the ground, unless there was a bank
or great stone at hand, and there he tried, for one half-hour after
another, to kindle a fire. When he got up a flame, there was his salt
meat to cook: it ought to have been soaked and stewed for hours; but he
could not wait; and he pulled it to pieces, and gnawed what he could of
it, when it was barely warm. Then he had to roast his coffee, which he
did in the lid of his camp-kettle, burning it black, and breaking it as
small as he could, with stones or anyhow. Such coffee as it would make
could hardly be worth the trouble. It was called by one of the doctors
charcoal and water. Such a supper could not fit a man for outpost duty
for the night, nor give him good sleep after the toils of the day.
The Sardinians, meantime, united in companies, some members of which
were usually on the spot to prepare supper for the rest. They knew how
to look for or provide a shelter for their fire, if only a foot high;
and how to cut three or four little trenches, converging at the fire, so
as to afford a good draught which would kindle even bad fuel. They had
good stews and porridge and coffee ready when wanted. The French always
had fresh bread. They carried portable ovens and good bakers. The
British had flour, after a time, but they did not know how to make
bread; and if men volunteered for the office, day after day, it usually
turned out that they had a mind for a holiday, and knew nothing of
baking; and their bread came out of the oven too heavy, or sour, or
sticky, or burnt, to be eaten. As scurvy spread and deepened, the
doctors made eager demands on Government for lime-juice, and more
lime-juice. Government had sent plenty of lime-juice; but it was somehow
neglected among the stores for twenty-four days when it was most wanted,
as was the supply of rice for six weeks when dysentery was raging. All
the time, the truth was, as was acknowledged afterwards, that the thing
really wanted was good food. The lime-juice was a medicine, a specific;
but it could be of no real use till the frame was nourished with proper
food.
When flour, and preserved vegetables, and fresh meat were served out,
and there were coffee-mills all through the camp, the men were still
unable to benefit by the change as their allies did. They could grind
and make their coffee; but they were still without good fresh bread and
soup. They despised the preserved vegetables, not believing that those
little cakes could do them any good. When they learned at last how two
ounces of those little cakes were equal, when well cooked, to eight
ounces of fresh vegetables, and just as profitable for a stew or with
their meat, they duly prized them, and during the final healthy period
those pressed vegetables were regarded in the camp as a necessary of
life. By that time, Soyer's zeal had introduced good cookery into the
camp. Roads were made by which supplies were continually arriving. Fresh
meat abounded; and it was brought in on its own legs, so that it was
certain that beef was beef, and mutton mutton, instead of goat's flesh
being substituted, as in Bulgaria. By that time it was discovered that
the most lavish orders at home and the profusest expenditure by the
commissariat will not feed and clothe an army in a foreign country,
unless there is some agency, working between the commissariat and the
soldiers, to take care that the food is actually in their hands in an
eatable form, and the clothes on their backs.
It is for American soldiers to judge how much of this applies to their
case. The great majority of the volunteers must be handy, self-helping
men; and bands of citizens from the same towns or villages must be
disposed and accustomed to concerted action; but cooking is probably the
last thing they have any of them turned their hand to. Much depends on
the source of their food-supply. I fear they live on the country they
are in,--at least, when in the enemy's country. This is very easy
living, certainly. To shoot pigs or fowls in road or yard is one way of
getting fresh meat, as ravaging gardens is a short way of feasting on
vegetables. But supposing the forces fed from a regular commissariat
department, is there anything to be learned from the Crimean campaigns?
The British are better supplied with the food of the country, wherever
they are, than the French, because it is their theory and practice to
pay as they go; whereas it is the French, or at least the Bonapartist
theory and practice, to "make the war support itself," that is, to live
upon the people of the country. In the Peninsular War, the French often
found themselves in a desert where they could not stay; whereas, when
Wellington and his troops followed upon their steps, the peasants
reappeared from all quarters, bringing materials for a daily market. In
the Crimea, the faithful and ready payments of the English commissariat
insured plenty of food material, in the form of cattle and flour,
biscuit and vegetables. The defect was in means of transport for
bringing provisions to the camp. The men were trying to eat hard salt
meat and biscuit, when scurvy made all eating difficult, while herds
of cattle were waiting to be slaughtered, and ship-loads of flour were
lying seven miles off. Whole deck-loads of cabbages and onions were
thrown into the sea, while the men in camp were pining for vegetable
food. An impracticable track lay between; and the poor fellows died by
thousands before the road could be made good, and transport-animals
obtained, and the food distributed among the tents and huts. Experience
taught the officers that the food should be taken entire charge of by
departments of the army till it was actually smoking in the men's hands.
There were agents, of course, in all the countries round, to buy up the
cattle, flour, and vegetables needed. The animals should be delivered
at appointed spots, alive and in good condition, that there might be no
smuggling in of joints of doubtful character. There should be a regular
arrangement of shambles, at a proper distance from the tents, and
provided with a special drainage, and means of disposing instantly of
the offal. Each company in the camp should have its kitchen, and one
or two skilled cooks,--one to serve on each day, with perhaps two
assistants from the company. After the regular establishment of the
kitchens, there was always food ready and coffee procurable for the
tired men who came in from the trenches or outpost duty; and it was a
man's own fault, if he went without a meal when off duty.
It was found to be a grave mistake to feed the soldiers on navy salt
beef and pork. Corned beef and pork salted for a fortnight have far more
nourishment and make much less waste in the preparation than meat which
is salted for a voyage of months. After a time, very little of the hard
salted meat was used at all. When it was, it was considered essential
to serve out peas with the pork, and flour, raisins, and suet, for a
pudding, on salt-beef days. In course of time there were additions
which made considerable variety: as rice, preserved potatoes, pressed
vegetables, cheese, dried fruits and suet for puddings, sugar, coffee
properly roasted, and malt liquor. Beer and porter answer much better
than any kind of spirit, and are worth pains and cost to obtain. With
such variety as this, with portable kitchens in the place of the
cumbersome camp-kettle per man, with fresh bread, well-cooked meat and
vegetables, and well-made coffee, the soldiers will have every chance
of health that diet can afford. Whereas hard and long-kept salt meat,
insufficiently soaked and cooked, and hastily broiled meat or fowls,
just killed, and swallowed by hungry men unskilled in preparing food,
help on diseases of the alimentary system as effectually as that
intemperance in melons and cucumbers and unripe grapes and apples which
has destroyed more soldiers than all the weapons of all enemies.
So much for the food. Next in order come the clothing, and care of the
person.
The newspapers have a great deal to say, as we have all seen, about the
badness of much of the clothing furnished to the Federal troops. There
is no need to denounce the conduct of faithless contractors in such a
case; and the glorious zeal of the women, and of all who can help to
make up clothing for the army, shows that the volunteers at least will
be well clad, if the good-will of society can effect it. Whatever the
form of dress, it is the height of imprudence to use flimsy material for
it.
It seems to be everywhere agreed, in a general way, that the soldier's
dress should be of an easy fit, in the first place; light enough for hot
weather and noon service, with resources of warmth for cold weather and
night duty. In Europe, the blouse or loose tunic is preferred to every
other form of coat, and knickerbockers or gaiters to any form of
trousers. The shoe or boot is the weak point of almost all military
forces. The French are getting over it; and the English are learning
from them. The number of sizes and proportions is, I think, five to one
of what it used to be in the early part of the century, so that any
soldier can get fitted. The Duke of Wellington wrote home from the
Peninsula in those days,--"If you don't send shoes, the army can't
march." The enemy marched away to a long distance before the shoes
arrived; and when they came, they were all too small. Such things do not
happen now; but it often does happen that hundreds are made footsore,
and thrown out of the march, by being ill-shod; and there seems reason
to believe that much of the lagging and apparent desertion of stragglers
in the marches of the volunteers of the Federal army is owing to the
difficulty of keeping up with men who walk at ease. If the Southern
troops are in such want of shoes as is reported, that circumstance alone
is almost enough to turn the scale, provided the Northern regiments
attain the full use of their feet by being accurately fitted with stout
shoes or boots. During the darkest days in the Crimea, those who had
boots which would stick on ceased to take them off. They slept in them,
wet or dry, knowing, that, once off, they could never be got on again.
Such things cannot happen in the Northern States, where the stoppage of
the trade in shoes to the South leaves leather, skill, and time for the
proper shoeing of the army; but it may not yet be thoroughly understood
how far the practical value of every soldier depends on the welfare of
his feet, and how many sizes and proportions of shoe are needed for duly
fitting a thousand men.
As for the rest, the conclusion after the Crimean campaign was that
flannel shirts answer better than cotton on the whole. If the shirt is
cotton, there must be a flannel waistcoat; and the flannel shirt answers
the purpose of both, while it is as easily washed as any material. Every
man should have a flannel bandage for the body, in case of illness, or
unusual fatigue, or sudden changes of temperature. The make and pressure
of the knapsack are very important, so that the weight may be thrown on
the shoulders, without pressure on the chest or interference with the
arms. The main object is the avoidance of pressure everywhere, from the
toe-joints to the crown of the head. For this the head-covering should
be studied, that it may afford shelter and shade from heat and light,
and keep on, against the wind, without pressure on the temples or
forehead. For this the neck-tie should he studied, and the cut of the
coat-chest and sleeve, when coats must be worn: and every man must have
some sort of overcoat, for chilly and damp hours of duty. There is great
danger in the wearing of water-proof fabrics, unless they are so loose
as to admit of a free circulation of air between them and the body.
With the clothing is generally connected the care of the person. It
is often made a question, With whom rests the responsibility of the
personal cleanliness of the soldier? The medical men declare that they
do what they can, but that there is nothing to be said when the men are
unsupplied with water; and all persuasions are thrown away when the poor
fellows are in tatters, and sleeping on dirty straw or the bare ground.
The indolent ones, at least, go on from day to day without undressing,
combing, or washing, till they are swarming with vermin; and then they
have lost self-respect. But if, before it is too late, there is an issue
of new shirts, boots, stockings, comforters, or woollen gloves, the
event puts spirit into them; they will strip and wash, and throw out
dirt and rags from their sleeping-places, and feel respectable again.
Perhaps the first consideration should be on the part of the
quartermaster, whose business it is to see to the supply of water; and
the sanitary officer has next to take care that every man gets his eight
or ten gallons per day. If the soldiers are posted near a stream which
can be used for bathing and washing clothes, there ought to be no
difficulty; and every man may fairly be required to be as thoroughly
washed from head to foot every days and as clean in his inner clothing,
as his own little children at home. If on high and dry ground, where the
water-supply is restricted, some method and order are needed; but no
pains should be spared to afford each man his eight or ten gallons.
This cannot be done, unless the source of supply is properly guarded.
When unrestrained access is afforded to a spring-head or pond, the water
is fatally wasted and spoiled. In the Crimea, the English officers
had to build round the spring-heads, and establish a regular order in
getting supplied. Where there is crowding, dirt gets thrown in, the
water is muddied, or animals are brought to drink at the source. This
ruins everything; for animals will not drink below, when the mouth
of horse, mule, or cow has touched the water above. The way is for
guardians to take possession, and board over the source, and make a
reservoir with taps, allowing water to be taken first for drinking and
washing purposes, a flow being otherwise provided by spout and troughs
for the animals, and for cleansing the camp. The difference on the same
spot was enormous between the time when a British sergeant wrote that he
was not so well as at home, and could not expect it, not having had his
shoes or any of his clothes off for five months, and the same time the
next year, when every respectable soldier was fresh and tidy, with his
blood flowing healthfully under a clean skin. The poor sergeant said, in
his days of discomfort: "I wonder what our sweethearts would think of
us, if they were to see us now,--unshaved, unwashed, and quite old men!"
Cut in a year, those who survived had grown young again,--not shaven,
perhaps, for their beards were a great natural comfort on winter duty,
but brushed and washed, in vigorous health, and gay spirits.
The next consideration is the soldier's abode,--whether tent, or hut, or
quarters.
I have shown certain British doctors demanding lime-juice when food was
necessary first. In the same way, there was a cry from the same quarter
for peat charcoal, instead of preventing the need of disinfectants.
Wherever men are congregated in large numbers,--in a caravan, at a
fair in the East or a protracted camp-meeting in the far West, or as a
military force anywhere, there is always animal refuse which should
not be permitted to lie about for a day or an hour. Dead camels among
Oriental merchants, dead horses among Western soldiers, are the cause of
plague. It is to be hoped that there will never be a military encampment
again without the appointment of officers whose business it shall be to
see that all carrion, offal, and dirt of every kind is put away into
its proper place instantly. For those receptacles, and for stables and
shambles, peat charcoal is a great blessing; but it ought not to be
needed in or about the abodes of the men. The case is different in
different armies. The French have a showy orderliness in their way of
settling themselves on new ground,--forming their camp into streets,
with names painted up, and opening post-office, _cafés_, and bazaars of
camp-followers; but they are not radically neat in their ways. In a few
days or weeks their settlement is a place of stench, turning to disease;
and thus it was, that, notwithstanding their fresh bread, and good
cookery, and clever arrangements, they were swept away by cholera and
dysentery, to an extent unrevealed to this day, while the British force,
once well fed and clothed, had actually only five per cent sick from all
causes, in their whole force.
The Sardinians suffered, as I have already observed, from their way of
making their huts. They excavated a space, to the depth of three or four
feet, and used the earth they threw out to embank the walls raised upon
the edge of the excavation. This procured warmth in winter and coolness
in hot weather; but the interior was damp and ill-ventilated; and as
soon as there was any collection of refuse within, cholera and fever
broke out. It is essential to health that the dwelling should be above
ground, admitting the circulation of air from the base to the ridge of
the roof, where there should be an escape for it at all hours of the day
and night.
Among volunteer troops in America, the difficulty would naturally seem
to be the newness of the discipline, the strangeness of the requisite
obedience. Something must be true of all that is said of the scattering
about of food, and other things which have no business to lie about on
the ground. A soldier is out of his duty who throws away a crust of
bread or meat, or casts bones to dogs, or in any way helps to taint the
air or obstruct the watercourses or drains. It may be troublesome to
obey the requisitions of the sanitary authorities; but it is the only
chance for escaping camp-disease.
On the other hand, in fixing on a spot for encampment, it is due to
the soldier to avoid all boggy places, and all places where the air is
stagnant from inclosure by woods, or near burial-grounds, or where the
soil is unfavorable to drainage. The military officer must admit the
advice of the sanitary officer in the case, though he may not be
always able to adopt it. When no overwhelming military considerations
interfere, the soldiers have a right to be placed on the most dry and
pervious soil that may offer, in an airy situation, removed from swamps
and dense woods, and admitting of easy drainage. Wood and water used to
be the quartermaster's sole demands; now, good soil and air are added,
and a suitable slope of the ground, and other minor requisites.
It depends on the character of the country whether quarters in towns and
villages are best, or huts or tents. In Europe, town quarters are found
particularly fatal; and the state of health of the inmates of tents and
huts depends much on the structure and placing of either. Precisely the
same kind of hut in the Crimea held a little company of men in perfect
health, or a set of invalids, carried out one after another to their
graves. Nay, the same hut bore these different characters, according to
its position at the top of a slope, or half-way down, so as to collect
under its floor the drainage from a spring. American soldiers, however,
are hardly likely to be hutted, I suppose; so I need say no more than
that in huts and tents alike it is indispensable to health that there
should be air-holes,--large spaces, sheltered from rain,--in the highest
part of the structure, whether the entrance below be open or closed. The
sanitary officers no doubt have it in charge to see that every man has
his due allowance of cubic feet of fresh air,--in other words, to take
care that each tent or other apartment is well ventilated, and not
crowded. The men's affair is to establish such rules among comrades as
that no one shall stop up air-holes, or overcrowd the place with guests,
or taint the air with unwholesome fumes. In the British army, bell-tents
are not allowed at all as hospital tents. Active, healthy men may use
them in their resting hours; but their condemnation as abodes for the
sick shows how pressing is the duty of ventilating them for the use of
the strongest and healthiest.
A sound and airy tent being provided, the next consideration is of
bedding.
The surgeons of the British force were always on the lookout for straw
and hay, after being informed at the outset that the men could not have
bedding, though it was hoped there was enough for the hospitals. A few
nights in the dust, among the old bones and rubbish of Gallipoli, and
then in the Bulgarian marshes, showed that it would be better to bestow
the bedding before the men went into hospital, and sheets of material
were obtained for some of them to lie upon. A zealous surgeon pointed
out to the proper officer that this bedding consisted in fact of double
ticking, evidently intended as _paillasses_, to be stuffed with straw.
The straw not being granted, he actually set to work to make hay; and,
being well aided by the soldiers, he soon saw them sleeping on
good mattresses. It was understood in England, and believed by the
Government, that every soldier in camp had three blankets; and after a
time, this came true: but in the interval, during the damp autumn and
bitter winter, they had but one. Lying on wet ground, with one damp and
dirty blanket over them, prepared hundreds for the hospital and the
grave. The mischief was owing to the jealousy of some of the medical
authorities, in the first place, who would not see, believe, or allow to
be reported, the fact that the men were in any way ill-supplied, because
these same doctors had specified the stores that would be wanted,--and
next, to the absence of a department for the actual distribution of
existing stores. With the bedding the case was the same as with the
lime-juice and the rice: there was plenty; but it was not served out
till too late. When the huts were inhabited, in the Crimea, and the
wooden platforms had a dry soil beneath, and every man had a bed of some
sort and three blankets, there was no more cholera or fever.
The American case is radically unlike that of any of the combatants in
the Crimean War, because they are on the soil of their own country,
within reach of their own railways, and always in the midst of the
ordinary commodities of life. In such a position, they can with the
utmost ease be supplied with whatever they really want,--so profuse as
are the funds placed at the command of the authorities. Considering
this, and the well-known handiness of Americans, there need surely be no
disease and death from privation. This may be confidently said while we
have before us the case of the British in the Crimea during the second
winter of the war. A sanitary commission had been sent out; and
under their authority, and by the help of experience, everything was
rectified. The healthy were stronger than ever; there was scarcely any
sickness; and the wounded recovered without drawback. As the British
ended, the Americans ought to begin.
On the last two heads of the soldier's case there is little to be said
here, because the American troops are at home, and not in a perilous
foreign climate, and on the shores of a remote sea. Their drill can
hardly be appointed for wrong hours, or otherwise mismanaged. In regard
to transport, they have not the embarrassment of crowds of sick and
wounded, far away in the Black Sea, without any adequate supply of
mules and carriages, after the horses had died off, and without any
organization of hospital ships at all equal to the demand. Neither do
they depend for clothing and medicines on the arrival of successive
ships through the storms of the Euxine; and they will never see the
dreary spectacle of the foundering of a noble vessel just arriving, in
November, with ample stores of winter clothing, medicines, and comforts,
which six hours more would have placed in safety. Under the head of
transport, they ought to have nothing to suffer.
Having gone through the separate items, and looking at the case as a
whole, we may easily perceive that in America, as in England and France
and every other country, the responsibility of the soldier's health in
camp is shared thus.
The authorities are bound so to arrange their work as that there shall
be no hitch through which disaster shall reach the soldiery. The
relations between the military and medical authorities must be so
settled and made clear as that no professional jealousy among the
doctors shall keep the commanding officers in the dark as to the
needs--of their men, and that no self-will or ignorance in commanding
officers shall neutralize the counsels of the medical men. The military
authorities must not depend on the report of any doctor who may be
incompetent as to the provision made for the men's health, and the
doctor must be authorized to represent the dangers of a bad encampment
without being liable to a recommendation to keep his opinion to himself
till he is asked for it. These particular dangers are best obviated by
the appointment of sanitary officers, to attend the forces, and take
charge of the health of the army, as the physicians and surgeons take
charge of its sickness. If, besides, there is a separate department
between the commissariat and the soldiery, to see that the comforts
provided are actually brought within every man's grasp, the authorities
will have done their part.
The rest is the soldier's own concern. When cruelly pressed by hardship,
the soldiers in Turkey and the Crimea took to drinking; and what they
drank was poison. The vile raid with which they intoxicated themselves
carried hundreds to the grave as surely as arsenic would have done.
When, at last, they were well fed, warm, clean, and comfortable, and
well amused in the coffee-houses opened for them, there was an end, or
a vast diminution, of the evil of drunkenness. Good coffee and harmless
luxuries were sold to them at cost price; and books and magazines and
newspapers, chess, draughts, and other games, were at their command. The
American soldiery are a more cultivated set of men than these, and are
in proportion more inexcusable for any resort to intemperance. They
ought to have neither the external discomfort nor the internal vacuity
which have caused drunkenness in other armies. The resort to strong
drinks so prevalent in the Americans is an ever-lasting mystery to
Europeans, who recognize in them a self-governing people, universally
educated up to a capacity for intellectual interests such as are
elsewhere found to be a safeguard against intemperance in drink. If the
precautions instituted by the authorities are well supported by the
volunteers themselves, the most fatal of all perils will be got rid of.
If not, the army will perish by a veritable suicide. But such a fate
cannot be in store for such an army.
There is something else almost as indispensable to the health of
soldiers as sobriety, and that is subordination. The true, magnanimous,
patriotic spirit of subordination is not more necessary to military
achievement than it is to the personal composure and the trustworthiness
of nerve of the individual soldier. A strong desire and fixed habit of
obedience to command relieve a man of all internal conflict between
self-will and circumstance, and give him possession of his full powers
of action and endurance. If absolute reliance on authority is a
necessity to the great majority of mankind, (which it is,) it is to the
few wisest and strongest a keen enjoyment when they can righteously
indulge in it; and the occasion on which it is supremely a duty--in the
case of military or naval service--is one of privilege. Americans are
less accustomed than others to prompt and exact obedience, being a
self-governing and unmilitary nation: and they may require some time to
become aware of the privileges of subordination to command. But time
will satisfy them of the truth; and those who learn the lesson most
quickly will be the most sensible of the advantage to health of body,
through ease of mind. The abdication of self-will in regard to the
ordering of affairs, the repose of reliance upon the responsible
parties, the exercise of silent endurance about hardships and fatigues,
the self-respect which relishes the honor of cooperation through
obedience, the sense of patriotic devotedness which glows through every
act of submission to command,--all these elevated feelings tend to
composure of the nerves, to the fortifying of brain and limb, and the
genial repose and exaltation of all the powers of mind and body. I
need not contrast with this the case of the discontented and turbulent
volunteer, questioning commands which he is not qualified to judge of,
and complaining of troubles which cannot be helped. It is needless to
show what wear-and-tear is caused by such a spirit, and how nerve and
strength must, in such a case, fail in the hour of effort or of crisis,
and give way at once before the assault of disease. By the aid of
sobriety and the calm and cheerful subordination of the true military
character, the health of the Federal army may be equal to its high
mission: and all friends of human freedom, in all lands, must heartily
pray that it may be so.
There is another department of the subject which I propose to treat of
another month: "Health in the Military Hospital."
"THE STORMY PETREL."
Where the gray crags beat back the northern main,
And all around, the ever restless waves,
Like white sea-wolves, howl on the lonely sands,
Clings a low roof, close by the sounding surge.
If, in your summer rambles by the shore,
His spray-tost cottage you may chance espy,
Enter and greet the blind old mariner.
Full sixty winters he has watched beside
The turbulent ocean, with one purpose warmed:
To rescue drowning men. And round the coast--
For so his comrades named him in his youth--
They know him as "The Stormy Petrel" still.
Once he was lightning-swift, and strong; his eyes
Peered through the dark, and far discerned the wreck
Plunged on the reef. Then with bold speed he flew,
The life-boat launched, and dared the smiting rocks.
'T is said by those long dwelling near his door,
That hundreds have been storm-saved by his arm;
That never was he known to sleep, or lag
In-doors, when danger swept the seas. His life
Was given to toil, his strength to perilous blasts.
In freezing floods when tempests hurled the deep,
And battling winds clashed in their icy caves,
Scared housewives, waking, thought of him, and said,
"'The Stormy Petrel' is abroad to-night,
And watches from the cliffs."
He could not rest
When shipwrecked forms might gasp amid the waves,
And not a cry be answered from the shore.
Now Heaven has quenched his sight; but when he hears
By his lone hearth the sullen sea-winds clang,
Or listens, in the mad, wild, drowning night,
As younger footsteps hurry o'er the beach
To pluck the sailor from his sharp-fanged death,--
The old man starts, with generous impulse thrilled,
And, with the natural habit of his heart,
Calls to his neighbors in a cheery tone,
Tells them he'll pilot toward the signal guns,
And then, remembering all his weight of years,
Sinks on his couch, and weeps that he is blind.