Five weeks in the bomb proofs depleted the Regiment as much as any whole campaign in the field had done before, and it was with glad hearts that we received the order to give place to a relieving force.
Surgeon Faxon of the 32d was placed in command of the hospital of the 5th corps, near City Point, and when the army had settled down to the siege of Petersburg, Mrs. Faxon was ordered to the front, and a description of the hospital and of hospital life from her point of view will not be uninteresting.
XIX.
OUR CORPS HOSPITAL.
IT was a bright, warm, September afternoon in 1864, when the hospital transport, on which I was a passenger, loosed from the Seventh street landing in Washington and steamed away down the Potomac and out into Chesapeake Bay. So long as daylight lasted there were many objects of interest to occupy my eyes and thoughts, and when night closed in, finding that sleep would be an impossibility in the stifling heat of a state-room, I willingly resigned myself to the idea of passing the night on deck, for the sky was cloudless, and the full moon shone on the wide expanse of quiet waters.
The next afternoon we were steaming up the James River, under wooded banks, by neglected fields, past deserted plantations. Here and there might be seen some great homestead such as Carter’s, which had escaped destruction, standing patriarchally among its negro quarters and numerous outbuildings, but even these few were evidently deserted and desolate.
About sunset, having passed Harrison’s Landing, we seemed to be approaching some great mart of trade, so varied and bustling was the scene which presented itself to us. Beyond the masts and rigging, and the smoke stacks and steam of the water craft, were seen groups of tents, long ranges of whitewashed barracks, log-huts and shanties of every shape bearing the signs of sutlers and licensed traders. Among these were moving uniformed soldiers and officers, on foot and mounted, negroes driving mule teams, negroes leading mules or driving ambulances drawn by mules, sentries on duty and detachments relieving guard, and over all flags flying gaily. This was City Point, and such the busy bustling life of the place which was the base of supplies for the army.
Landing at a wooden pier, I and my luggage were loaded into an ambulance. Driving past General Grant’s attractive quarters, by what must have been pleasant homes, now occupied for army purposes, through what had been avenues of noble trees, which were now rows of stumps, two miles over a rough road brought me to the depot hospital of the 5th corps.
A broad drive-way led to the headquarters’ tents, in front of which a sentinel was on duty. Three hospital tents, each 15x17 feet, were arranged, opening into each other, and furnished as office, parlor, and bedroom. In front was an arbor-like enclosure made of green reversible blinds—probably borrowed from some “mansion”—which gave to one inside an agreeable seclusion. The furniture consisting of sofa, chairs, tables, mantel, hanging shelves, bureau, wardrobe, and washstand, was made of soft, unpainted, unvarnished pine of rude construction. Cushions were made of army blankets, and the bed, with its linen counterpane and sheets looked tempting. The tents were floored and in each was an open fire-place with broad hearth-stone, which I hope did not come from the cemetery near by.
Dinner, an elaborate meal of several courses, was speedily served in a neighboring tent, and bore witness to what might be accomplished by culinary skill, combined with a few pans and a stove, in a space four feet square. We were hardly seated when, at what proved to be its accustomed hour, a band commenced to discourse a programme of excellent music. Thus cheerfully my life on the Appomattox began.