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and models of neatness. I am not sure but this is a model hospital after
all, in important respects. I found several sad cases of old lingering
wounds. One Delaware soldier, William H. Millis, from Bridgeville, whom
I had been with after the battles of the Wilderness, last May, where he
receiv'd a very bad wound in the chest, with another in the left arm,
and whose case was serious (pneumonia had set in) all last June and
July, I now find well enough to do light duty. For three weeks at the
time mention'd he just hovered between life and death.
BOYS IN THE ARMY
As I walk'd home about sunset, I saw in Fourteenth street a very young
soldier, thinly clad, standing near the house I was about to enter. I
stopt a moment in front of the door and call'd him to me. I knew that an
old Tennessee regiment, and also an Indiana regiment, were temporarily
stopping in new barracks, near Fourteenth street. This boy I found
belonged to the Tennessee regiment. But I could hardly believe he
carried a musket. He was but 15 years old, yet had been twelve months a
soldier, and had borne his part in several battles, even historic
ones. I ask'd him if he did not suffer from the cold, and if he had
no overcoat. No, he did not suffer from cold, and had no overcoat, but
could draw one whenever he wish'd. His father was dead, and his mother
living in some part of East Tennessee; all the men were from that
part of the country. The next forenoon I saw the Tennessee and Indiana
regiments marching down the Avenue. My boy was with the former, stepping
along with the rest. There were many other boys no older. I stood and
watch'd them as they tramp'd along with slow, strong, heavy, regular
steps. There did not appear to be a man over 30 years of age, and a
large proportion were from 15 to perhaps 22 or 23. They had all the look
of veterans, worn, stain'd, impassive, and a certain unbent, lounging
gait, carrying in addition to their regular arms and knapsacks,
frequently a frying-pan, broom, &c. They were all of pleasant
physiognomy; no refinement, nor blanch'd with intellect, but as my eye
pick'd them, moving along, rank by rank, there did not seem to be a
single repulsive, brutal or markedly stupid face among them.
BURIAL OF A LADY NURSE
Here is an incident just occurr'd in one of the hospitals. A lady named
Miss or Mrs. Billings, who has long been a practical friend of soldiers,
and nurse in the army, and had become attached to it in a way that no
one can realize but him or her who has had experience, was taken sick,
early this winter, linger'd some time, and finally died in the hospital.
It was her request that she should be buried among the soldiers, and
after the military method. This request was fully carried out. Her
coffin was carried to the grave by soldiers, with the usual escort,
buried, and a salute fired over the grave. This was at Annapolis a few
days since.
FEMALE NURSES FOR SOLDIERS
There are many women in one position or another, among the hospitals,
mostly as nurses here in Washington, and among the military stations;
quite a number of them young ladies acting as volunteers. They are a
help in certain ways, and deserve to be mention'd with respect. Then
it remains to be distinctly said that few or no young ladies, under the
irresistible conventions of society, answer the practical requirements
of nurses for soldiers. Middle-aged or healthy and good condition'd
elderly women, mothers of children, are always best. Many of the wounded
must be handled. A hundred things which cannot be gainsay'd, must occur
and must be done. The presence of a good middle-aged or elderly woman,
the magnetic touch of hands, the expressive features of the mother, the
silent soothing of her presence, her words, her knowledge and privileges
arrived at only through having had children, are precious and final
qualifications. It is a natural faculty that is required; it is not
merely having a genteel young woman at a table in a ward. One of the
finest nurses I met was a red-faced illiterate old Irish woman; I have
seen her take the poor wasted naked boys so tenderly up in her arms.
There are plenty of excellent clean old black women that would make
tip-top nurses.
SOUTHERN ESCAPEES
_Feb. 23, '65_.--I saw a large procession of young men from the rebel
army, (deserters they are call'd, but the usual meaning of the word does
not apply to them,) passing the Avenue to-day. There were nearly 200,
come up yesterday by boat from James river. I stood and watch'd them
as they shuffled along, in a slow, tired, worn sort of way; a large
proportion of light-hair'd, blonde, light gray-eyed young men among
them. Their costumes had a dirt-stain'd uniformity; most had been
originally gray; some had articles of our uniform, pants on one, vest
or coat on another; I think they were mostly Georgia and North Carolina
boys. They excited little or no attention. As I stood quite close to
them, several good looking enough youths, (but O what a tale of misery
their appearance told,) nodded or just spoke to me, without doubt
divining pity and fatherliness out of my face, for my heart was full
enough of it. Several of the couples trudg'd along with their arms about
each other, some probably brothers, as if they were afraid they might
somehow get separated. They nearly all look'd what one might call
simple, yet intelligent, too. Some had pieces of old carpet, some
blankets, and others old bags around their shoulders. Some of them here
and there had fine faces, still it was a procession of misery. The two
hundred had with them about half a dozen arm'd guards. Along this week
I saw some such procession, more or less in numbers, every day, as they
were brought up by the boat. The government does what it can for them,
and sends them north and west.
_Feb. 27_.--Some three or four hundred more escapees from the
confederate army came up on the boat. As the day has been very pleasant
indeed, (after a long spell of bad weather,) I have been wandering
around a good deal, without any other object than to be out-doors and
enjoy it; have met these escaped men in all directions. Their apparel is
the same ragged, long-worn motley as before described. I talk'd with a
number of the men. Some are quite bright and stylish, for all their poor
clothes--walking with an air, wearing their old head-coverings on one
side, quite saucily. I find the old, unquestionable proofs, as all
along the past four years, of the unscrupulous tyranny exercised by the
secession government in conscripting the common people by absolute force
everywhere, and paying no attention whatever to the men's time being
up--keeping them in military service just the same. One gigantic young
fellow, a Georgian, at least six feet three inches high, broad-sized in
proportion, attired in the dirtiest, drab, well smear'd rags, tied
with strings, his trousers at the knees all strips and streamers, was
complacently standing eating some bread and meat. He appear'd contented
enough. Then a few minutes after I saw him slowly walking along. It was
plain he did not take anything to heart.
_Feb. 28._--As I pass'd the military headquarters of the city, not far
from the President's house, I stopt to interview some of the crowd of
escapees who were lounging there. In appearance they were the same as
previously mention'd. Two of them, one about 17, and the other perhaps
25 or '6, I talk'd with some time. They were from North Carolina, born
and rais'd there, and had folks there. The elder had been in the rebel
service four years. He was first conscripted for two years. He was then
kept arbitrarily in the ranks. This is the case with a large proportion
of the secession army. There was nothing downcast in these young
men's manners; the younger had been soldiering about a year; he was
conscripted; there were six brothers (all the boys of the family) in
the army, part of them as conscripts, part as volunteers; three had been
kill'd; one had escaped about four months ago, and now this one had got
away; he was a pleasant and well-talking lad, with the peculiar North
Carolina idiom (not at all disagreeable to my ears.) He and the elder
one were of the same company, and escaped together--and wish'd to remain
together. They thought of getting transportation away to Missouri, and
working there; but were not sure it was judicious. I advised them rather
to go to some of the directly northern States, and get farm work for the
present. The younger had made six dollars on the boat, with some tobacco
he brought; he had three and a half left. The elder had nothing; I
gave him a trifle. Soon after, met John Wormley, 9th Alabama, a West
Tennessee rais' d boy, parents both dead--had the look of one for a long
time on short allowance--said very little--chew'd tobacco at a fearful
rate, spitting in proportion--large clear dark-brown eyes, very
fine--didn't know what to make of me--told me at last he wanted much
to get some clean underclothes, and a pair of decent pants. Didn't care
about coat or hat fixings. Wanted a chance to wash himself well, and
put on the underclothes. I had the very great pleasure of helping him to
accomplish all those wholesome designs.
_March 1st_.--Plenty more butternut or clay-color'd escapees every
day. About 160 came in to-day, a large portion South Carolinians. They
generally take the oath of allegiance, and are sent north, west, or
extreme south-west if they wish. Several of them told me that the
desertions in their army, of men going home, leave or no leave, are far
more numerous than their desertions to our side. I saw a very forlorn
looking squad of about a hundred, late this afternoon, on their way to
the Baltimore depot.
THE CAPITOL BY GAS-LIGHT
To-night I have been wandering awhile in the capitol, which is all lit
up. The illuminated rotunda looks fine. I like to stand aside and look a
long, long while, up at the dome; it comforts me somehow. The House and
Senate were both in session till very late. I look'd in upon them, but
only a few moments; they were hard at work on tax and appropriation
bills. I wander'd through the long and rich corridors and apartments
under the Senate; an old habit of mine, former winters, and now more
satisfaction than ever. Not many persons down there, occasionally a
flitting figure in the distance.
THE INAUGURATION
_March 4th._--The President very quietly rode down to the capitol in his
own carriage, by himself, on a sharp trot, about noon, either because
he wish'd to be on hand to sign bills, or to get rid of marching in line
with the absurd procession, the muslin temple of liberty and pasteboard
monitor. I saw him on his return, at three o'clock, after the
performance was over. He was in his plain two-horse barouche, and look'd
very much worn and tired; the lines, indeed, of vast responsibilities,
intricate questions, and demands of life and death, cut deeper than ever
upon his dark brown face; yet all the old goodness, tenderness, sadness,
and canny shrewdness, underneath the furrows. (I never see that man
without feeling that he is one to become personally attach'd to, for his
combination of purest, heartiest tenderness, and native western form of
manliness.) By his side sat his little boy, of ten years. There were no
soldiers, only a lot of civilians on horseback, with huge yellow scarfs
over their shoulders, riding around the carriage. (At the inauguration
four years ago, he rode down and back again surrounded by a dense
mass of arm'd cavalrymen eight deep, with drawn sabres; and there were
sharpshooters station'd at every corner on the route.) I ought to make
mention of the closing levee of Saturday night last. Never before was
such a compact jam in front of the White House--all the grounds fill'd,