Newspaper accountings of the WBTS.
MONTGOMERY WEEKLY ADVERTISER, May 25, 1864
A correspondent of the Columbus Sun who
was wounded on Saturday last, and who is now in the Montgomery, Ala., Hospital,
writes as follows: "All honor to the noble women of Georgia! As we went on to
the front, they honored us with flowers and bouquets [sic], cheered us with the
waving of handkerchiefs, and animated us with smiles. On our return wounded,
they met us at every station, nourished and strengthened us with invigorating
cordials, soothed and consoled us with kind and sympathetic words. Again I say,
all honor to the women of Georgia, on the line of the railroad from Resaca to
Atlanta. We have been here thirty hours, and I have not seen a woman, except
two or three hired nurses. For the honor of Alabama, I trust her daughters will
learn a lesson of humanity from their Georgia sisters."
Mr. Editor:--I see in the Appeal the following ill-natured fling at the ladies
of this city, by a correspondent of the Columbus Sun. We suspect the
writer is one of those "hospital rats" who got demoralized on the first scratch,
or was "stung with a bung" and retired early from the fight.
He says "we have been here (in a hospital in Montgomery,) thirty hours and have
not seen a woman except two hired nurses. For the honor of Alabama, I trust her
daughters will learn a lesson from their Georgia sisters."
It is a notorious fact that from the day the wounded began to arrive, the ladies
of Montgomery have crowded our hospitals, bringing all kinds of food, bandages,
linen and delicacies, and have been untiring in their efforts to relieve the
wants and sufferings of our soldiers. They have beset the Surgeons to tell them
what to do. Citizens and ladies have come in from the country, some of them
many miles, bringing articles for the hospitals, and begging to be allowed to
carry the sick and wounded home with them.
Some of the most refined and cultivated ladies of the city have devoted much of
their time to the hospitals, feeding and cheering the wounded, and often
dressing their wounds with their own hands. We have been in the service since
the beginning of the war, and have seen many hospitals full of wounded men. No
where have we seen more sympathy and devotion, not even among the far famed
daughters of Richmond, than has been, and is now being shown by the noble women
of Montgomery, Ala.
MONTGOMERY WEEKLY ADVERTISER, June 8, 1864, p. 1, c. 3
Army of Tennessee,
Marietta, Ga., May 30th,
. . . Sherman's brutality has eclipsed that of Beast Butler, and he has become
the Hyena of beasts. I learn from good authority that he has lately issued a
proclamation at Rome commanding all the implements of husbandry to be delivered
up to be destroyed, and ordering all mules, cattle and horses to be turned over
to the Yankee brutes. Houses have been stripped even of provisions, and rations
dealt out to families. The late order of the Secretary of War prohibiting
mothers, sisters, fathers or relatives from visiting their wounded and dying
sons or relations, in the hospitals near the battle field, is a great hardship,
however judicious it may be in order to prohibit improper persons from visiting
our lines. The women of our country are its glory; their toils and sacrifices
are the brilliant jewels studding the peerless diadem with which our martyred
soldiers' blood has crowned the nationality of our young Confederacy; and shall
they be denied anything at the mandate of our government? Shall the holy wish
of a mother or sister go ungratified, their longing hopes and heartstrings
snapped, at being denied the privilege of receiving the dying words or looks of
a beloved son or brother? Most certainly discriminations should be made, and
this boon of consolation gratified.
MONTGOMERY WEEKLY ADVERTISER, June 8, 1864
Private Letter from a Lady near
Sunday Morning, May 10, 1864.
My Dear Brother: I will write you a few lines this morning and
send by our scouts, as I know how anxious you are about us. Well, in the first
place, we are in the Yankee lines, and have been for two weeks, or very nearly.
They crossed the river last Wednesday week and were here by nine o'clock
Thursday morning. Infantry first came and were drawn up in line of battle
across the yard and field and also in the spring field, made our house
headquarters and gave us a guard, so we were protected in a measure. They
pulled down all of our fencing to make breastworks. You would not know the
place, nothing standing except the gates. The first day they came in they took
our horses. About three o'clock the infantry fell back in the pines and cavalry
came up. They told us they had two brigades of cavalry here; all that I know is
the hills were literally covered with their cavalry. They went up near Mr.
Dabye's ? that evening, and about 4 o'clock were attached by our men. Hampton's
brigade of cavalry charged them through our field and captured some of the blue
devils at our spring. Only six were killed in this engagement—do not know the
number of wounded. We were very much frightened, and thought it a big fight,
but we had not seen anything. Friday, Saturday and Sunday heavy fighting was
kept up, and we had to stay in the basement all the time without a mouthful to
eat, or a spark of fire or a ray of light. We came up from the basement Sunday
night. About nine o'clock our men were here, and had succeeded in driving them
(the Yanks) from their breastworks and back into the pines, between here and our
old place. We could not hear each other speak for the roar of musketry and the
yells of our dear brave boys. After pressing back the Yanks some of our men
came in the basement to see if we were safe, and after the fight Gen. Hampton
came to the house to see us. But Monday evening was the general engagement here
and in the neighborhood, and oh, so many were killed and wounded. The Yankees
carried all off the field they could, but our men pressed them so closely, they
had to run and leave a great many. Oh, it did my soul so much good to see the
Yanks skedaddle. They have a number of killed and wounded now lying on this
field. One old dead one is lying behind our barn, and you can see them
everywhere you go. I think there are ten in the cornfield. Mr. Bradshaw has
some wounded Yanks at his house. We have four we attend to out on the field;
they cannot live, but still we cannot let them suffer. Their wounds have never
been dressed; we simply wash their faces and carry them water and something to
eat. I have said I never would do an act of kindness for one of them to save
their lives, but I feel altogether different when I see them suffering. We have
them in pens, and oil cloth and blankets thrown over them. One asked me
yesterday if I would write to his friends after his death, and asked me to pray
for him. I never saw men so hard to die in my life; I would be glad to see them
dead and over their suffering, but I believe some of them will live a week
Mr. Bradshaw's house is completely riddled with shot and shell.
Our house is not injured a great deal. A great many small shot struck, and our
men threw grape shot and shell in the yard, and strange to say, not one struck
the house. One large shell was thrown in the garden and one close to the
kitchen; neither exploded, but we found a great many pieces that did explode.
Mother was awfully frightened, but I did not feel at all
frightened; I did not think we would be killed. I was afraid the house would
take fire, but thank God, our lives were spared, though everything else was
destroyed. We have nothing in the world but what little we managed to conceal
in the house. Our house was only searched once, and by the meanest kind of
wretches, one came and tried to get into the milk closet, but I stood before him
and would not let him go in. We had a guard, such as it was, but they were the
meanest devils on earth, they killed all of our hogs, even the little pigs, and
the cow as it was too poor to eat, but they said they were Secesh cows,
killed every hen and took all of our food; broke every lock on the place; our
corn, oat and wheat fields are nothing more than the main road; pulled all the
pailings from around the yard and garden and played destruction generally, but
if we can only whip them and gain our independence, I am willing to give up all,
yes everything. We have three boxes of crackers they left in their retreat
which we are living on, we have neither corn, meal, or flour, we managed to save
a little bacon but we know not how soon they may come and find that.—I was
always glad when the officers were here, they would keep little better order.
We have not seen any of them to-day, saw four of their scouts yesterday. Their
army is between here and the Court House, we know not at what moment they may
come back, all the servants of the neighborhood have been persuaded or driven
off, we are afraid to go outside of the yard. Indeed I had almost forgotten to
tell you they took me to headquarters, over in the pines. Yes mother and I were
walking in the garden to see where one of their wounded had bled, and the first
thing I knew they had us marching to headquarters, I asked them to let mother
return to the house, as we had left no one there but a servant girl, they said
certainly she could return, so I was escorted by a Captain and Lieutenant
to headquarters to be questioned about our picket post, but I let you know their
information did them more harm than good, for I did not tell them one word of
truth. I would have sooner died there and then, than given them one word of
information. I had seen and talked with our pickets, but they never knew it.
Oh! brother you do not know how much impudence they gave us, but I abused them
and gave them word for word. Mother begged me not to notice or have anything
to say to them, but I was determined to abuse them. They asked me at
headquarters if I had a brother in the army and if he was a volunteer, I told
them yes, I had three brothers in the army and all volunteers.
Dick and Oscar are detailed as scouts through here. I see them
almost every day, they have taken a great many prisoners about here; we cannot
hear from Babe, we are very unhappy about him but hope his life is spared. You
can hear more about how the fight is going than we can, as we are in the Yankee
lines, although they are fighting not more than four or five miles from here
now. Sister's house is a rebel hospital as the Yanks call it, she had one
Yankee and he died, some of our men have died there, poor fellows, I feel so
much for them, we were very much afraid they would make our house a Yankee
hospital. Their Doctor told us he would have to do so, but they had to get out
of the way too fast. I would be glad to have some of our poor men to nurse if
we had anything to give them to eat, but we have not seen any of our wounded or
dead. Messr. Chancellor, Kent and Boling are prisoners. Mike and John are with
the boys, I expect they ran off as soon as they heard the Yankees were coming.
We have a girl in the house and they ordered her not to cut wood or do anything
for us as she was as free as we were now, they offered to pay her to go with
them, but she did not go. I cannot give any idea of the desolation of the
neighbourhood, but I hear, like ourselves, all is gone. The Yankees have not
the slightest idea but that they will make the trip to Richmond this time, I
only hope and pray that they never may. I saw a good many mounted negroes and
they said there was ten thousand in Fredericksburg, commanded by Burnsides. I
could freely kill them every one; excuse mistakes as I cannot collect my ideas I
am really not myself now, you must not answer this as we would not get it, I
will write again in a few days.
MONTGOMERY WEEKLY ADVERTISER, June 22, 1864
Army of Tennessee, Kennesaw Mountain
3 Miles N. W. Marietta, Midnight, June 16.
This afternoon many ladies visited Kennesaw mountain to get a view of the
Yankees and watch the shelling the enemy's battery, to which we seldom replied,
but when we did this evening, we struck and dismounted one of their guns.
But for the firing in the valley, the bevy of ladies seated about, gave the
occasion the air of a picnic in times of peace. The enemy's railroad trains are
plainly seen coming in to Big Shanty, and their whistle heard very distinct.
MONTGOMERY WEEKLY ADVERTISER, July 6, 1864
Army of Tennessee, near Marietta,
Monday, June 27, 1864.
All the public buildings on the square in Marietta, have of late been converted
into hospitals for the different brigades and divisions of the army, besides a
general receiving and distributing hospital, at which the wounded are received
from the field, operated on, and sent off to hospitals in the rear. At present
we have but very few sick and wounded in the hospital, they having been
generally sent to the rear soon after being received.
The large and spacious hotel here, is occupied as the hospital for Wheeler's
cavalry corps, of which Surgeon F. A. Stanford, a most accomplished and
scientific operator, is the Medical Director. The great care and attention paid
to the sick and wounded at this hospital, which also has a special ward for
badly wounded cases sent from the infantry, is deserving of special mention, as
well as the strict regard paid to the cleanliness of the wards, every cot having
clean sheets daily put on it, and the same exactness to sanitary rules as
prevail in city and State hospitals. This hospital is under the immediate
superintendence of Surgeon Geo. N. Holmes, whose distinguished professional
abilities, besides his great feelings of humanity for the suffering, and his
unremitted attentions to the welfare of his patients, have won for him a high
reputation, and whose qualities, some of the butchers in the army may
well take a lesson from and endeavor to emulate. The most perfect system
prevails in this hospital, and it gives me great pleasure to take occasion to
speak of it, because from negligence, deficiency, or in competency, exhibited at
times in the Receiving hospital, I am informed quite different results might be
produced if more cautious attention was paid, and careful skill exercised.
Surgeon Holmes has labored hard to bring about this perfection in the
organization of military hospitals, and has been zealously aided by his
indefatigable and finished assistants, Doctors R. E. Hill, O. V. Garnett, and J.
W. Barknell. A record is not only kept of the case of the patient, but of all
his effects that may be on his person at the time, so that in case of death, the
relatives of the deceased can obtain the same with all the particulars. Ora.