A sad accident occurred about two o’clock the morning after leaving White House, while anchored in the Pamunkey waiting for the tide. All was still as midnight, when suddenly there was heard a plunge, struggling, splashing, and cries for help from below. At the same instant several voices were heard exclaiming, “A man overboard!” A life-preserver was immediately thrown him, but, there being a heavy mist on the surface of the water, it floated past him unnoticed. The incoming tide was rapidly bearing him away. I endeavored, but in vain, to throw him my life-preserver, by crowding it through the small window of my state-room as he floated by. A life-boat was lowered and two men went in pursuit; soon another boat followed. The poor fellow’s cries for help could still be heard. I watched him out of sight, and even then I could hear him call out, “This way, this way, gentlemen, hurry up; I can’t keep up much longer;” and then the reply, “We’re coming, we’re almost there, keep up good courage.” At length the splashing of the oars dies away, and the voices become fainter and fainter; yet we can still hear the boatmen call, “Where are you?” and the reply, very faintly, “Here, here, this way!” but soon it ceases, and we all wait in almost breathless silence for the return of the life-boats. Soon we catch the sound of the splashing oars, and eager voices are heard asking, “Did you save him?” Our hearts almost cease to beat and the blood nearly freezes in our veins as we hear the reply, “No, he went down when we were almost in reach of him.” Oh, how much harder for the dear friends at home to part with him thus than if he had fallen in battle; that they might have expected, but this they were wholly unprepared for. Landing at City Point, I reported to Dr. Dalton, medical director, but was disappointed in finding that the rest of our agents had not yet arrived, though they left White House twenty-four hours in advance. The cause of the delay, however, we learned from Mrs. Johnson, who arrived toward evening the same day. There had been an order issued that none of the State Relief Associations should be permitted to go to the new “base” without permission from the Secretary of War. Hence they had no alternative but to remain at Fortress Monroe until they could despatch some one to Washington for the requisite passes, which delayed them until the 22d.
The goods belonging to the Christian Commission, which were loaded in the same barge with ours, were removed to another boat, and Mrs. Johnson came on as one of their delegates. While in doubt as to what course to pursue, being without supplies, we were here, as at White House, providentially provided for by the arrival of Mr. Howard from Washington with hospital stores. Before morning the wounded began to arrive, and with their arrival began our work. Our hospitals were not yet established, though the location was decided upon. It was situated about a mile from the Point, along the bank of the Appomattox; and the next day scores of tents went up, which were soon filled with the wounded. Soon after landing at City Point I was joyfully surprised in meeting an old friend—Mr. Fox, of Kalamazoo—a volunteer laborer in the cause of humanity. But the great event of the day was the honor of a call from General Grant, the great American hero, who came into our tent, sat perhaps twenty minutes, conversed freely about the war, and seemed to take a great interest in the work in which we were engaged. To the inquiry whether he would be in Richmond by the 4th of July, he shook his head and replied, “No, not by the fourth; I have not laid my plans to that effect. I shall go there; I’m just as sure of it as can be, but we have more hard fighting to do first.” He then added: “I am nearly worn out, for I have scarcely had a day’s rest since the war began.” Before leaving he gave each of us his autograph, shook hands and bade us “good-by.” We assured him he should still have our prayers, as he already had our confidence. He thanked us, and was gone.
CHAPTER XVI.
MAJOR BARNES—HOSPITALS ESTABLISHED—MRS. JOHNSON RETURNS TO WASHINGTON—ARRIVAL OF MRS. GIBBS—HER RETURN WITH A WOUNDED SON—CAVALRY HOSPITAL—AM TAKEN SICK WITH TYPHOID FEVER—REV. MR. JOSS—HOT WEATHER—A SEVERE STORM—LEAVING CITY POINT—REBEL OFFICERS—THE RELAPSE—RETURN TO MICHIGAN—A DARK PERIOD—MY SISTER’S BEREAVED FAMILY—THE CALL OF DUTY.
As I have before stated, the rest of our agents, with the balance of our goods, arrived the 22d. Mrs. Brainard, however, remained only one night, having received orders to return to Washington, where her services were greatly needed. Our work here was so similar to that at White House, that it is not necessary to enter into details. I will only mention an instance or two, and then pass to a more general account of our work. The day after arriving at City Point, the wounded began to come in in large numbers. Quite early in the morning a long train of ambulances filled with mangled bodies arrived, and halted a short time, until a hospital boat was in readiness to receive them. While busy at work, a soldier came to me in great haste, and begged me to go and see his major, saying: “He is dreadfully wounded.” Leaving my work, I accompanied him. We hastily passed ambulance after ambulance, until it seemed as though we never would reach the last one. At length he stopped, and, pointing to one of them, said, “He is in that one.” Carefully springing upon the step at the rear of the ambulance, and looking in, I saw Major Barnes, of the Twentieth Michigan, lying by the side of a brother officer, who was also badly wounded. On inquiring what I could do for them, “Oh,” said Major B., “if you could only get me out of this ambulance, for it does seem as though I shall die if I stay here much longer.” I promised to see what could be done, but found that the train would so soon move to the landing, that it was thought best not to make any change until it reaches its destination. I can never forget the look almost of despair depicted on his countenance as I reported this, for all hope of recovery seemed to have left him. Still anxious to do something for him, I hurried back to my tent, and soon returned with a cup of tea and a pillow. “Oh,” he exclaimed, as he drank the tea, “that tastes so good.” Placing the pillow under his head, I bade him be of good cheer, and, with a heavy heart, stepped down from the ambulance. The train moved on, and I saw him no more. A few days after, I learned that he died before reaching Washington. Oh! those sad sights! those tedious, toilsome days! How glad we sometimes were to have the darkness of night hide from view the revolting scenes witnessed by day, when the cooling breeze would fan fevered brows and wounds inflamed, and gently lull to sleep. But even then the moans of some poor sufferer would often reach our ears, causing us to wish for immortal bodies, which would neither wear out nor become weary. But
“The hopes, the fears, the blood, the tears
That marked the bitter strife,
Are now all crowned by victory
That saved the nation’s life.”
Our hospitals at this place were very extensive. The Second, Fifth, Sixth and Ninth Corps were largely represented in this department. Tents continued to go up until our little canvas village assumed the proportions of a city. The Cavalry Corps also had a large hospital about two miles from here. Day after day the wounded came pouring in from the battles and skirmishes so frequently occurring. Cannonading was daily heard, frequently rapid and heavy; and occasionally the rattle of musketry and the screeching of shells saluted our ears, while the smoke of battle could plainly be seen, and sometimes even the manœuvering of the troops—thus mingling with our arduous duties great excitement, and occasionally alarm.