Friends he loved, in tears are twining
Chaplets there.
“Rest in peace, thou gentle spirit
Throned above;
Souls like thine with God inherit
Life and love!”
CHAPTER X.
THE VETERAN RESERVE CORPS—UNWILLINGNESS TO SERVE IN IT—FORTY DAYS IN THE GUARD-HOUSE—CLIFBURN BARRACKS—EXPOSURE—AN OLD SOLDIER’S STORY—SUNDRY DUTIES—CHRISTMAS—THE SURPRISE—PROFESSOR HOLDEN—A BEREAVED MOTHER—VISIT TO THE ARMY—FIELD HOSPITALS—STEVENSBURG—MRS. MAYHEW—CHAPEL SERVICE—RETURN TO WASHINGTON.
In the autumn of 1863 the Veteran Reserve Corps was organized, and all soldiers whom examining boards pronounced unfit for field service, but able to do “light duty,” were transferred to one of the three battalions into which it was divided. Prior to being assigned to either of these battalions, they were quartered at Clifburn Barracks. In this camp there was much suffering from exposure and neglect. Nights were cold, barracks uncomfortable, bunks with no bedding, except the soldier’s blanket. Many a poor fellow lost his life in consequence of exposure during his stay at Clifburn. In the majority of cases, the transfer to this organization was made against the soldier’s wishes, who, if able to do duty, preferred to be sent to his regiment. But a soldier’s duty is to obey orders, irrespective of his wishes. I recall several instances in which soldiers were severely punished for refusing to serve in the “Invalid Corps,” as it was called. I will mention one. A soldier was kept in the guard-house forty days, court-martialed three times, and he still refused to put on the “Invalid” jacket. An appeal in his behalf was finally made to the War Department, when the Secretary ordered his release. He had always been a good soldier, never refusing to do duty in the field, and he insisted, as he could no longer serve his country there, he should receive his discharge. I knew others who would refuse to be transferred, but, after lying in the guard-house a few days, would submit. One, who had been a good soldier in the field, seemed to consider it a disgrace to serve where there was no danger, or, if not a disgrace, there was at least no honor attached to the service.
The hospital connected with this camp was never as well supplied as those in the city. Disease in almost every form found its way thither—fevers, pneumonia, rheumatism, that insidious disease—consumption, and even small-pox. Upon one of my next visits to this hospital, I found a young man of the Seventh Michigan, who was a great sufferer from inflammatory rheumatism. He was extremely anxious to go home, and requested me to see the surgeon in regard to his discharge. On inquiry I found that his papers would be ready as soon as he was able to travel. He was removed to Mr. Clark’s—formerly of Ann Arbor, at that time residing near the hospital—where, with the most tender nursing, he so far recovered as to be able to go home in a few weeks. He continued to improve for a short time after reaching home, but was suddenly taken worse and died; and another victim was added to the many occasioned by neglect and exposure while at Clifburn.