Gettysburg: The Crossroads Town

by Tim Black

  July 8–

  Again at the hospital early this morning. Several physicians and lady nurses had come from Washington the previous evening, and under their care things already began to look better. The work of extracting the balls, and of amputating shattered limbs, had begun, and an effort at regular cooking. I aided a lady to dress wounds, until soup was made, and then I went to distribute it. I found that I had only see the lighter cases, and worse horrors met my eyes on descending to the basement of the building. Men, wounded in three or four places, not able to help themselves the least bit, lay almost swimming in water. I hunted up the lady whom I had been helping, and told her to come and see how they were situated. When we came down she reverently exclaimed, “MY God! They must be gotten out of this or they will drown.” I gladly, in answer to her request, consented to assist her. She called some nurses to help, and getting some stretchers the work was begun. There were somewhere near one hundred to be removed to the fourth story of the building. The way they happened to be in such a miserable place was this. On the first day, during the battle, they had been taken into the building for shelter. On Thursday and Friday the Rebels planted a battery just behind this hospital, which annoyed our troops not a little, who, in endeavoring to silence it, could not avoid throwing some shells into the building. Some entered several of the rooms, and injured one of the end walls, and the basement became the only safe place to which our wounded could betake themselves, and the heavy rains, following the engagement, flooded the floor. I did not think all could be removed to-day, but the lady said it must be done, and by hard work she had it accomplished. We had the satisfaction of seeing them comfortably fixed, though they lay on the bare floor with only their gum blankets under them, but dry and very thankful for so little. I fed one poor fellow who had both legs and one arm taken off, and, though he is very weak and surely cannot live, he seems in right good spirits. Some weeks since I would have fainted had I seen as much blood as I have to-day, but I am proof now, only caring to relieve suffering. I now begin to feel fatigued, but I hope rest may restore me.

  July 9–

  Rain began to fall early this morning, and so violently that it produced quite a flood, which prevented me from getting to the hospital. I visited, with what supplies I had, some of those in town. I found the wounded in them much better situated, some attention having been paid to them, by the citizens near, during the battle. All had plenty to eat, though very few had beds to lie on and rest their wounded bodies. Nearly every house is a hospital, besides the churches and warehouses, and there are many field hospitals scattered over the country near the scene of the battle. A man called to-day, and requested me to take into our house three wounded men from one of the field hospitals. I agreed to take them, for I can attend to them and not be compelled to leave my family so long every day as I have done. I am quite anxious to learn the condition of the man at the Seminary whose wife I sent for. I was thinking of her when the cars, for the first time since the destruction of the Rock Creek bridge, came into town, the road having been repaired. The Government can now forward supplies in abundance, and the poor fellows can be better provided for in every way. I talked with some wounded Rebels at one of the hospitals, and they are very saucy and brag largely. They are very kindly treated, and supplied, in all respects, as our men are. The spirit manifested by those I met was so vindictive that I believe they would, if they could, requite all the kindness shown them by murdering our citizens. The merciful work of the Sanitary and Christian Commissions, aided by private contributions, was to be seen at every hospital. Without the relief they furnished, thousands must have perished miserably, and thousands more have suffered from want of the delicacies, food and clothing their agents distributed, before the Government could bring assistance. They are God’s blessed agencies for providing for the needy soldier. No one knows the good she has done, in making bandages and clothing, and in contributing dainties and provisions, until she sees the operation of these agencies in distributing her gifts to the wounded and sick soldiers. Whoever aids them is engaged in the noblest work on earth, and will be amply rewarded ever here, to make no mention of hereafter.

  July 10–

  This morning I again visited the Seminary, and was rejoiced to see the improvement that had been made in the arrangements for the patients. Nearly all have been provided with beds and clean clothing, and a more comfortable look pervades the whole building. I miss many faces that I had learned to know, and among them the man whose wife I had written to. A lady stayed with him until he died, and cut off a lock of his hair, which she gave me for his wife. At 5 o’clock our men were brought to our home, and I prepared them as nice a supper as I could, and they appeared quite cheerful, notwithstanding their dirty persons, having been lying in a field hospital three miles from town, without a change of clothing since before the battle and with very imperfect attendance.

  July 11–

  This day has been spent in caring for our men. We procured clean clothes from the Sanitary Commission, and having fixed them up, they both look and feel better, though their wounds are very painful. Our town, too, begins to look more settled, and more like its former self. The atmosphere is loaded with the horrid smell of decaying horses and the remains of slaughtered animals, and, it is said, from the bodies of men imperfectly buried. I fear we shall be visited with pestilence, for every breath we draw is made ugly by the stench. The proper officers are sending off the wounded Rebels, left in our hands with only a few surgeons by their inhuman commanders, as fast as their condition will admit of the journey. All day ambulances filled with them have been passing our door on their way to the depot. Though they are enemies and saucy, I pity them.

  July 12–

  To-day the lady I sent for came to see her husband. I never pitied any one as I did her when I told her he was dead. I hope I may never again be called to witness such a heartrending scene. The only comfort she had was in recovering the body, and in tears she conveyed it to the resting-place of her family. I had some satisfaction from the fact that I had marked the grave, without which she might not have recovered it. Many persons have called to-day wanting lodging, but we cannot accommodate all. The town would not hold all who, from various motives, visit the battlefield, even if there were no wounded in it. Our house has been constantly full, and every house I know of has been, and is, full. One who called told me that he had sat on a chair in front of a hotel last night, and was glad to get even such quarters. This is Sunday, but since the battle we have no Sunday. The churches have been converted into hospitals, and the cars come and go as on other days, and the usual hustle and confusion reign in the streets, and there is nothing but the almanac to remind us of the day of rest. One of my patients grows worse, and is gradually sinking into his long home. There has been some difficulty in securing proper medical attendance, the surgeons not liking to quit their hospitals, and run from house to house, and our own physicians are overwhelmed with business.

  July 13–

  This day has passed much as yesterday and the day before. The town is full as ever of strangers, and the old story of the inability of a village of twenty-five hundred inhabitants, overrun and eaten out by two large armies, to accommodate from ten to twelve thousand visitors, repeated almost hourly. Twenty are with us to-night, filling every bed and covering the floors. To add to my trouble and anxiety, the nurse has just informed me that our sickest man will die soon. It is sad; and even we, who have known him so short a time, will miss him. What our soldiers are in the army, I cannot say, but when they are wounded, they all seem perfect gentlemen, so gentle, patient, and kind, and so thankful for any kindness shown them. I have seen many of our brave sufferers, and I have yet to meet the first that showed ill breeding. This, too, is the opinion of all whom I know, who have taken care of any, and the invitation and remark is common. “Come and see our men; they are the nicest in the army,” and the reply generally follows. “They cannot be better than ours.”

  July 14–

&
nbsp; It is now one month since I began this journal, and little did I think when I sat down to while away the time, that I would have to record such terrible scenes as I have done. Had any one suggested any such sights as within the bound of possibility, I would have thought it madness. No small disturbance was occasioned by the removal of our wounded to the hospital. We had but short notice of the intention, and though we pleaded hard to have them remain, it was of no use. So many have been removed by death and recovery, that there was room, and the surgeons having general care over all, ordered the patients from private house to the General Hospital. A weight of care, which we took upon us for duty’s sake, and which we had learned to like and would have gladly borne, until relieved by the complete recovery of our men, has been lifted off our shoulders, and again we have our house to ourselves.”

  Additional Memoirs of Gettysburg Civilians

  While Sarah Broadhead’s Diary was written at the time of the Battle of Gettysburg, several other residents of Gettysburg who were children at the time of the battle later wrote about their experiences. The ones I consulted in constructing this novel included recollections by Lydia and Hugh Ziegler, Mildred “Tillie” Pierce and Daniel Skelly. All of the reminiscences are available online or from the Adams County Historical Society in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.

  “The Dead and Dying Were All Around Us,” Lydia Ziegler, Clare & Hugh Ziegler, from the archives of the Adams County Historical Society.

  “At Gettysburg or What a Girl Saw and Heard of the Battle,” Tillie Pierce Alleman. A public domain publication reprinted by various publishers and downloadable for free via the internet.

  “A Boy’s Experience during the Battle of Gettysburg,” Daniels Skelly. A public domain publication one click away on Google.