THE GREAT ARMY OF THE WOUNDED
………………
The military hospitals, convalescent camps, etc., in Washington and its
neighborhood, sometimes contain over fifty thousand sick and wounded men.
Every form of wound (the mere sight of some of them having been known to
make a tolerably hardy visitor faint away), every kind of malady, like a
long procession, with typhoid fever and diarrhoea at the head as
leaders, are here in steady motion. The soldier’s hospital! how many
sleepless nights, how many women’s tears, how many long and waking hours
and days of suspense, from every one of the Middle, Eastern, and Western
States, have concentrated here! Our own New York, in the form of hundreds
and thousands of her young men, may consider herself here—Pennsylvania,
Ohio, Indiana, and all the West and Northwest the same—and all the New
England States the same.
Upon a few of these hospitals I have been almost daily calling as a
missionary, on my own account, for the sustenance and consolation of some
of the most needy cases of sick and dying men, for the last two months.
One has much to learn to do good in these places. Great tact is required.
These are not like other hospitals. By far the greatest proportion (I
should say five sixths) of the patients are American young men,
intelligent, of independent spirit, tender feelings, used to a hardy and
healthy life; largely the farmers are represented by their sons—largely
the mechanics and workingmen of the cities. Then they are soldiers. All
these points must be borne in mind.
People through our Northern cities have little or no idea of the great and
prominent feature which these military hospitals and convalescent camps
make in and around Washington. There are not merely two or three or a
dozen, but some fifty of them, of different degrees of capacity. Some have
a thousand and more patients. The newspapers here find it necessary to
print every day a directory of the hospitals—a long list, something like
what a directory of the churches would be in New York, Philadelphia, or
Boston.
The Government (which really tries, I think, to do the best and quickest
it can for these sad necessities) is gradually settling down to adopt the
plan of placing the hospitals in clusters of one-story wooden barracks,
with their accompanying tents and sheds for cooking and all needed
purposes. Taking all things into consideration, no doubt these are best
adapted to the purpose; better than using churches and large public
buildings like the Patent office. These sheds now adopted are long,
one-story edifices, sometimes ranged along in a row, with their heads to
the street, and numbered either alphabetically, Wards A or B, C, D, and so
on; or Wards 1, 2, 3, etc. The middle one will