It will be remembered that, early in this month, the Army of the Potomac struck tents, buckled on their armor, and, at the command of their gallant leader, “whose name was a tower of strength,” moved on with their faces “wilderness-ward,” to scenes of fierce strife, carnage, and death. Soon a series of battles commenced, which scarcely ended until the fall of Richmond. It was a truthful saying, that the battle of the Wilderness was the bloody initiation of the great campaign which was to terminate the war. The 8th of the month several hundred of the more slightly wounded arrived. They had a serious time in making their way from the battlefield to the Rappahannock—a distance of nearly thirty miles—no transportation being furnished them, as all the ambulances were employed in removing the more severely wounded. On their way they were attacked by guerrillas, but finally succeeded in making their escape, after killing several, without losing any of their own number. Those who were unarmed fought with broken muskets, clubs, and whatever else they could lay hands on.
As reports of the fighting continued to reach us, and none of the more serious cases arrived, we applied for passes to go to Fredericksburg—that being the new base of supplies for the army, and whither thousands of the wounded were removed from the battlefield—which we finally obtained through our State Agent, Dr. Tunnecliffe, late in the afternoon of the 10th. Early next morning, Mrs. Johnson, Mrs. Brainard, and myself, in company with other volunteer laborers, went to the wharf with our goods, that we might be in readiness to take the first boat that should leave for Belle Plain.
While waiting, three boats filled with the wounded arrived. They were crowded, from the upper-deck to the hold, with scarcely room to pass between those mangled forms, who were suffering not only from wounds, but famishing with hunger. Their hunger, however, was soon relieved, for a large number of delegates of the Sanitary and Christian Commissions were present, with plenty of hot coffee, milk-punch, lemonade, crackers, and the like, which were distributed with a liberal hand to all. As fast as possible they were removed to hospitals, where they could be better cared for. About four o’clock P. M., we went on board the steamer Wenonah. Before leaving the wharf a letter was handed me, dated, “Chancellorsville, May 7th, 1864.” I will quote a single paragraph: “The Twenty-Sixth are all right, but the Fifth are badly cut up; Major Mathews reported mortally wounded.” Oh! how such reports increased our impatience, and lengthened the waiting moments into hours, and the hours into days. But at length we leave the shores of Washington. Every heart beats high with the hope that the morning will find us among the wounded at Belle Plain. But we had proceeded only a few miles when a collision occurred, injuring our boat slightly, yet sufficient to cause her to anchor off Alexandria for the night.
May 12th, 1864.
At six o’clock this morning, the Wenonah, richly laden with hospital-stores and volunteer laborers, left Alexandria and steamed down the Potomac. Fort Washington is soon passed, Mount Vernon left in the distance, and other places of less importance appear and recede from view.
As we near our place of destination, cannonading is heard, rapid and heavy. A terrible battle is raging. Oh! how we long for “the wings of the morning,” that we may fly to the relief of the wounded; but our anxiety does not accelerate our speed. About one o’clock we anchor a short distance from Belle Plain, where we remain until nearly dark, when we are all taken on board the Young America, and carried over to the landing; but we cannot go ashore, as we would be entirely without shelter for the night, and the rain, which has been falling all the afternoon, still continues.
Before leaving the Wenonah, it was suggested by some one that we have a prayer-meeting, and that those wishing to attend would assemble in the cabin, which in a few moments was filled to its utmost capacity with delegates from both the Sanitary and Christian Commissions, the ladies on board, and officers and soldiers. Among the number present were many eminent Christian men and ministers of the gospel, the names of a few of whom I obtained, viz.: Drs. Smith, Castle, Porter, McLaughlin, of Philadelphia, Dr. Howlett, of Washington, and Dr. Dobbins, of Trenton, New Jersey. Among the ladies present was one whose name has become a household word in thousands of homes throughout our land, because of her untiring efforts in behalf of the sick and wounded. I refer to Miss Clara Barton, of ——, Massachusetts. The meeting was a most solemn and impressive one. The afternoon was dark and gloomy, the sky overcast with clouds, and the rain falling; while ever and anon our ears were saluted with the boom of the cannon, which plainly indicated that the conflict was still raging, and every moment new names were added to the long list of sufferers. The solemnity of the occasion, and the deep impressions then made, must—it seems to me—follow each of us through life.
Nine o’clock next morning we were taken into a barge and carried ashore. The wounded were arriving by hundreds, and I may say thousands, to await transportation to Washington. The two great Commissions and a few State Reliefs were there with abundant supplies of food; so all hands went to work feeding those poor, suffering, half-starved soldiers with crackers, hot coffee, and light bread—which we cut into slices and spread with apple-butter. Thus we worked on, wading through mud to the top of our boots until noon, when, in company with Mrs. Johnson, I started with part of our goods for Fredericksburg—transportation being furnished us through the kindness of Lieutenant Chase, of the Ambulance Corps. The mud was deep and the roads badly cut up; but fortunately we did not share the fate of some of the wounded, whose ambulances were overturned on their way to Belle Plain. It was after dark when we reached the Rappahannock, which we crossed on pontoons, and nearly eight o’clock when we arrived at the head-quarters of the Christian Commission in the “bloody city” of Fredericksburg. On our way we met several thousand prisoners captured by the Second Corps the day previous. Among these were Generals Edward Johnson and George H. Stewart. It was said that General Johnson was so affected as to shed tears when General Hancock extended to him his hand after he was taken, declaring that he preferred death to captivity. But the other, with an air of haughtiness, replied: “I am General Stewart, of the Confederate army, and under present circumstances I decline to take your hand.” General Hancock’s dignified reply was: “And under any other circumstances, General, I should not have offered it.”
We, with three other ladies who were on a similar mission, found quarters for the night in the parlor of the worthy (?) ex-Mayor Slaughter’s fine residence, upon whose carpet we had the honor of sleeping!! Being very tired, we slept soundly, in spite of our hard bed. Part of the building was used for a hospital. Mrs. Slaughter was still there, but her husband, not caring to fall into the hands of the “hated Yankees,” had left for parts unknown.