A Woman's Life-Work-Labors and Experiences of Laura S. Haviland - Part 23
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Part 23

CHAPTER X.

HOSPITAL WORK.

Our last chapter left us in hospital world at Cairo. A portion of the freedmen's camp of three thousand the officers proposed to remove to Island No. 10, and wished me to take most of my supplies to that place.

While waiting for their arrival I visited the United States Hospital at Mound City, a few miles up the Ohio River. Here, too, were dying soldiers, one of whom especially attracted my attention, as he was perfectly sane and rather unusually intelligent. I immediately addressed him: "My son, are you prepared to go hence?"

"Mother," he said, "that is a matter which I ought to have attended to long ago, but I did not, and now it is too late! I am dying."

"Oh, do not say _too late_! Remember the condition is, '_Believe_ and thou _shalt be saved_;' 'As thou hast _believed_, so shall it be unto thee.' These are the sure promises of our merciful Redeemer. Remember the thief on the cross looked at him with repenting spirit and living faith, and said, 'Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom;'

and the quick reply was, 'This day thou shalt be with me in Paradise.'

Can you not trust such a Redeemer?--such a loving Father as is our G.o.d, who saves to the uttermost all who ask with believing hearts?" He firmly held my hand and said, "I will try."

Our prayers were mingled in asking for the enlightening of the Holy Spirit, and while he was asking for the forgiveness of all his sins, that he might receive an evidence of acceptance, he seemed encouraged and gave me the names and address of his parents, for me to write them of his hope, in departing, of a better future.

There was also great suffering in the camp of freedmen. The officers wished me to aid them in persuading these people to go down to the island, as they were afraid of being returned to slavery at the close of the war, and desired to push as far into the free States as possible, and very loath to go back "an inch," as one of the officers expressed it. I took the names of these almost nude people, whom I instructed to come to my tent; as the officers said I should have one for the purpose of giving out clothing to the most needy among them.

They a.s.sured them that their freedom was a fixed fact; that they would never see the day again when they would be separated by being sold apart. This, I found, has a greater inducement for them to consent to the request of the officers to go to the island than all the clothing I could promise.

But one poor woman came to the captain weeping, saying, "My poor baby is dying' an' I can't leave him. He is my only child left me." In the great hurry and bustle of business the quick reply was, "Go back and I'll see to it." As she left the office he turned to me and said, "I don't know whether it is so or not; they get up all sorts of excuses."

As she was not yet out of sight, I followed her to the slab hut and found it true. An hour later and the baby of eight years was in the spirit world.

"Now, missus, I can't go an' leave my dead baby for de wharf-rats to eat, an' de boat goes out at three o'clock."

I reported the death of the child and of the distress of the mother.

"Tell her," said the officer, "we will see that her child is buried this afternoon, and I want her to go on this boat." I told the mother of the captain's wish, and that I would see that her child was buried.

"Ob, missus, it 'pears like I can't leave him so; they'll leave him here to-night, an' dese wharf-rats are awful. Da eat one dead chile's face all one side off, an' one of its feet was all gnawed off. I don't want to leave my chile on dis bare groun'."

The grief of this poor mother was distressing in the extreme. She knew not whether her husband and three older children, sold away two years previously, were still slaves or living, as she had never heard a word from them since they were taken from her. Those sad separations, she said, were much harder to bear than the death of this child. But she consented to go, on my promise to see that her child was buried before night. After she left for the boat I went to the captain to see his promise performed. He seemed very indifferent.

"What is the difference if that child shouldn't be buried this afternoon or whether wharf-rats eat it or not?"

"You promised to have it buried this afternoon," I said, "and I told that poor woman I would see that it was done; and I see no other way than to hold you to that promise, for I shall meet her on the island, and I must report to her."

Said the captain, "You won't allow such things as these to break your heart, after being in the army a little while and seeing our soldiers buried in a ditch, with no other coffin or winding sheet than the soldier's dress. For the time being we bury hundreds just in that way; and when from five to fifteen die in one day, as sometimes is the case in these large camps, we can not make coffins for them, but we roll them up in whatever they have. If we can get a piece of board to lay them on when we put them in their graves we do well." "But here you have lumber and plenty of carpenters, and you can have a plain coffin for the dead, and I do hope one will be made for this child. As I told the mother I would see that a coffin was made for her child and have it buried this afternoon, I will do it." He called the sergeant and gave the order for a carpenter among the soldiers to make it, and I saw the pine board coffin go to the burying ground with the child just before sunset.

Colonel Thomas and the captain doubted whether I could secure transportation from General Taliaferro, who was in charge of that post.

They said he was a cross old bachelor, and had said he would not give another woman transportation to go into the army. "But," said Colonel Thomas to the captain, "she will be more likely to succeed if she goes herself without any word from us."

On the following day my car-load of supplies arrived, and I began to regret that I had not waited a day or two longer at home for the one hundred dollars that could have been placed in my hands, so that I could use it in an emergency if I should be refused transportation.

With some misgivings I entered the general's office and requested an interview. I introduced myself by handing him my papers, which he looked over, and pleasantly asked what I wished.

"I am hoping," I said, "to secure transportation to Island No. 10, and to Memphis, Tennessee, for myself and the supplies referred to in those papers."

"Well, madam, I think your papers are worthy of attention, and I will grant your request."

This was said in such a pleasant manner I almost concluded the general had been misrepresented, but how changed his tone when he called his adjutant, who in an instant stood before him. "Go tell my clerk to come in." He hurried to obey his command, and returned with the report, "He is gone."

"Gone! where has he gone?"

"He went a few minutes ago to Church."

"Gone to Church! He has no business to go to Church, or anywhere else, without my permission; he has no right to leave his office without my order."

This he said in such a stern, vociferous manner that I wished myself out of his presence. But turning to me, in a mild tone, he said:

"Mrs. Haviland, you don't want transportation tonight. You come to-morrow morning at nine o'clock, and you shall have the papers."

With heartfelt thanks I left his office. On my return I found Colonel Thomas and the captain anxiously waiting to learn the result of my call on the general. They met me at the door of their office, and asked:

"What is the news?"

"The general grants transportation for myself and supplies to Island No. 10 and to Memphis," I said.

By their clapping of hands one would have thought they had got cheering news from the army. I found they too felt the weight of responsibility in this, as they had solicited my aid in getting these freed people to go to the island.

The following morning I found a boat was going to leave at half-past eight o'clock, but too early for the promised transportation, I told the captain of the boat of my wish to go with supplies to Island No. 10 and to Memphis, but had the promise from the general to have the papers at nine o'clock. A captain in the army, standing by, told him he could take me with supplies with all safety; for if General Taliaferro had promised transportation he could rest a.s.sured the general at Columbus, Kentucky, would be sure to give it.

"Very well," he said; "where are your supplies?"

They were pointed out, and he ordered them to be put on board at once.

On landing at Columbus I called on the general, and secured transportation from Cairo to places of destination. Now I thought all was straight; but as I handed my paper to the captain he said:

"This is an order for transportation. The captain-quartermaster is to fill it out, to be good for any thing."

I confessed my ignorance of army red-tape, and took back the papers to have them finished. He inquired for my pa.s.s from the provost-marshal.

That, too, I knew nothing about; but the army captain came to my relief, taking my papers and getting the transportation filled, with a pa.s.s from the provost-marshal. These lessons I found important in all my after work.

We soon landed at Island No. 10, the area of which was two hundred and fifty acres of available plow land, with an excellent orchard of three hundred bearing apple and peach trees. Upon this island were seven hundred freedmen, who were making good use of the rich donations of twenty-five plows, with harrows, hoes, axes, rakes, and garden and field seeds, from Indiana and Ohio. Their superintendent, Chaplain Thomas, told me that he never saw a more willing and obedient people.

They mostly lived in tents. Government had furnished lumber to erect a few temporary buildings. An old dilapidated farmhouse, and a few log-huts formerly occupied by the overseer and slaves, were the homes of Captain Gordon and Surgeon Ransom, with their families, who seemed to enjoy camp life as well as any I had seen. They had in charge four companies of soldiers. Their hospital a.s.sumed an air of neatness and comfort.

We took a stroll over the battle-ground, and saw the deep furrows plowed by the terrible sh.e.l.ls, in which a horse might be buried. Here and there were interspersed "rebel rat-holes," as they were called, dug seven or eight feet deep, and nearly covered with planks and two or three feet of earth, in which they dropped themselves, after firing, to reload and be secure from flying shot and sh.e.l.l. I picked up a couple of cannon-b.a.l.l.s about the size of a small tea-cup, of which a peck is used for a load. An officer told me that he saw twenty-five rebels killed with one discharge of these b.a.l.l.s. O, what slaughter of human life!

Government provided a physician and dispensary for the freed people.

Their hospital was a tent, like the majority of the regimental hospitals in the army. The first tent I visited was occupied by an aged pair, with two grown children, who appeared quite intelligent. Hard treatment and cruel separations had filled the greater portion of their lives. As I was making remarks on the wickedness of slavery, said the old man, with tearful eyes, "Please stop till I bring in my daughter and family from the next tent." They soon entered. "Please go on," said the father. While tears were coursing down the old man's furrowed cheeks, in undertone he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, "O Lord, I did not expect to live to see this day."

At the close of my remarks he arose to his feet, and in the most pathetic manner addressed his family as follows:

"My wife and children, have you thought we should ever see this? I fear we are not thankful enough to G.o.d. Do we prize this precious privilege as we ought? That dear wife was sold from me nearly twenty years ago; soon after my children were sold, and I thought my heart was broke.

They punished me because I grieved so much, and then sold me to be taken another way. O, how I prayed for death to hide me from my troubles, for I thought none could see as much as I did. Many gloomy nights and days of sorrow I spent. I could hear no word from my wife, and nothing from my children. My master told me I should never hear from them again, because I made so much trouble over it; he would send me as far as wind and water would carry me, so I would never hear from them again. I remembered the words of my poor old father upon his death-bed, when he gave me this Bible: 'My son, the same G.o.d that made that Bible learned me to read it, and learned me to endure hard trials patiently. Remember, my son, the same G.o.d will do the same for you if you go to him for help;' and so he has. Praise be to the Lord forever!"

He took from a box a Bible, all spotted over with mold, without and within: "This Bible has been manna to my soul for many years. G.o.d has learned me to read, as he did my poor father. He has been my support. I have prayed these many years for deliverance from bondage, and my faith told me it would come; but I didn't know it would come in my time. O, what a Savior is our Jesus! That dear wife was compelled to marry another man in these long years of separation. He was taken into the rebel army, and she came to the Union camp. A few days ago we met at Fort Pillow; and there we met our two long lost children; and here we found this daughter and family. O, how wonderful are G.o.d's ways! O, my wife, my children! let us live nearer that Almighty Deliverer than ever before, and praise his holy name forever." And the tall figure sat down, amid sobs and tears. The spirit of that family sermon I can never forget.

This n.o.ble man, Uncle Stephen, was but a few days before a slave; yet with the dignity of a patriarch he a.s.sumed his new relation. He was evidently a self-taught man, more intelligent, and using more correct language, than any I had met on the island.

On leaving my tent, tickets were given with explanations of my mission, which was both new and strange to them. In another tent I found a young man who had attempted to escape to our lines more than a year before, but was overtaken and shot by his master, shivering the bones six inches above the ankle, making amputation necessary. He was beginning to use his wooden leg. His master was taken prisoner by our men a few days before, and he, with one hundred fellow-slaves, fell into the hands of the Union army. He was fitted with a whole suit. This was done in but few instances, the general dest.i.tution forbidding it. It would have pleased the donors to see me with open boxes, taking out garment after garment, measuring and delivering, upon presentation of tickets previously given, to fifty or a hundred at a time; and to listen to the many thanks and hearty "G.o.d bless you!" as each garment was taken.