Georgiana's Gettysburg, 1863

JPK Huson 1863

Brev. Brig. Gen'l
Joined
Feb 14, 2012
Location
Central Pennsylvania
With apologies to members not making the trek this week, we're a little Gettysburg-specific in theme. It's inevitable, given the scope there, there would be a kind of informational flurry in anticipation. Of course, sounds to me as if many members are in the air as I write this or are becoming familiar with interstate route numbers flashing by.
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Gettysburg's Sanitary Commission, where Georgiana would have culled supplies

Georgina Woolsey, probably the most frequently quoted Woolsey in a large family of sisters impelled to nurse wounded throughout the long war, famously made her mark at Gettysburg. Despite having been present at other great battles through those awful years Gettysburg's destruction was so singular Georgiana left us a remarkable piece of writing about her time there. " Three Weeks At Gettysburg " . It is one of the Gettysburg I go to see- the aftermath and those who picked life from the shambles.
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2nd Corp Hospital, where men were made ready for transfer to trains- or had to remain.

Picking and choosing- not the entire book. Nurses cared for ' rebels ' and Union alike. They were all wounded men. Just wounded men.

July, 1863.

"Dear ——: What we did at Gettysburg, for the three weeks we were there, you will want to know. 'We,' are Mrs.[H] —— and I, who, happening to be on hand at the right moment, gladly fell in with the proposition to do what we could at the Sanitary Commission Lodge after the battle. There were, of course, the agents of the Commission, already on the field, distributing supplies to the hospitals, and working night and day among the wounded. I cannot pretend to tell you what was done by all the big wheels of the concern, but only how two of the smallest ones went round, and what turned up in the going.

This is the way the thing was managed at first: The surgeons left in care of the wounded three or four miles out from the town, went up and down among the men in the morning, and said, 'Any of you boys who can make your way to the cars can go to Baltimore.' So off start all who think they feel well enough; anything better than the 'hospitals,' so called, for the first few days after a battle.

For the first few days the worst cases only came down in ambulances from the hospitals; hundreds of fellows hobbled along as best they could in heat and dust, for hours, slowly toiling; and many hired farmers' wagons, as hard as the farmers' fists themselves, and were jolted down to the railroad, at three or four dollars the man. Think of the disappointment of a soldier, sick, body and heart, to find, at the end of this miserable journey, that his effort to get away, into which he had put all his remaining stock of strength, was useless; that 'the cars had gone,' or 'the cars were full;' that while he was coming others had stepped down before him, and that he must turn all the weary way back again, or sleep on the road-side till the next train 'to-morrow!'

I do not think that a man of the sixteen thousand who were transported during our stay, went from Gettysburg without a good meal. Rebels and Unionists together, they all had it, and were pleased and satisfied. 'Have you friends in the army, madam?' a rebel soldier, lying on the floor of the car, said to me, as I gave him some milk. 'Yes, my brother is on ——'s staff,' 'I thought so, ma'am. You can always tell; when people are good to soldiers they are sure to have friends in the army,' 'We are rebels, you know, ma'am,' another said. 'Do you treat rebels so?' It was strange to see the good brotherly feeling come over the soldiers, our own and the rebels, when side by side they lay in our tents. 'Hullo, boys! this is the pleasantest way to meet, isn't it? We are better friends when we are as close as this than a little farther off.' And then they would go over the battles together, 'We were here,' and 'you were there,' in the friendliest way.

The Gettysburg women were kind and faithful to the wounded and their friends, and the town was full to overflowing of both. The first day, when Mrs. —— and I reached the place, we literally[334] begged our bread from door to door; but the kind woman who at last gave us dinner would take no pay for it. 'No, ma'am, I shouldn't wish to have that sin on my soul when the war is over.' She, as well as others, had fed the strangers flocking into town daily, sometimes over fifty of them for each meal, and all for love and nothing for reward; and one night we forced a reluctant confession from our hostess that she was meaning to sleep on the floor that we might have a bed, her whole house being full. Of course we couldn't allow this self-sacrifice, and hunted up some other place to stay in. We did her no good, however, for we afterwards found that the bed was given up that night to some other stranger who arrived late and tired: 'An old lady, you know; and I couldn't let an old lady sleep on the floor.' Such acts of kindness and self-denial were almost entirely confined to the women.. ( edit- there must be a story behind this statement on Georgiana's part )

One woman we saw, who was by no means Dutch, and whose pluck helped to redeem the other sex. She lived in a little house close up by the field where the hardest fighting was done,—a red-cheeked, strong, country girl. 'Were you frightened when the[335] shells began flying?' 'Well, no. You see we was all a-baking bread around here for the soldiers, and had our dough a-rising. The neighbors they ran into their cellars, but I couldn't leave my bread. When the first shell came in at the window and crashed through the room, an officer came and said, 'You had better get out of this;' but I told him I could not leave my bread; and I stood working it till the third shell came through, and then I went down cellar; but' (triumphantly) 'I left my bread in the oven.' 'And why didn't you go before?' 'Oh, you see, if I had, the rebels would 'a' come in and daubed the dough all over the place.' And here she had stood, at the risk of unwelcome plums in her loaves, while great holes (which we saw) were made by shot and shell through and through the room in which she was working.


"The streets of Gettysburg were filled with the battle. People thought and talked of nothing else; even the children showed their little spites by calling to each other, 'Here, you rebel;' and mere scraps of boys amused themselves with percussion-caps and hammers. Hundreds of old muskets were piled on the pavements, the men who shouldered them a week before, lying underground now, or helping to fill the long trains of ambulances on their way from the field. The private houses of the town were, many of them, hospitals; the little red flags hung from the upper windows. Beside our own men at the Lodge, we all had soldiers scattered about whom we could help from our supplies; and nice little puddings and jellies, or an occasional chicken, were a great treat to men condemned by their wounds to stay in Gettysburg, and obliged to live on what the empty town could provide. There was a colonel in a shoe-shop, a captain just up the street, and a private round the corner whose young sister had possessed herself of him, overcoming the military rules in some way, and carrying him off to a little room, all by himself, where I found her doing her best with very little. She came afterward to our tent and got for him clean clothes, and good food, and all he wanted, and was perfectly happy in being his cook, washerwoman,[336] medical cadet, and nurse. Besides such as these, we occasionally carried from our supplies something to the churches, which were filled with sick and wounded, and where men were dying,—men whose strong patience it was very hard to bear,—dying with thoughts of the old home far away, saying, as last words, for the women watching there and waiting with a patience equal in its strength, 'Tell her I love her.'
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Letterman, the General Hospital

"Late one afternoon, too late for the cars, a train of ambulances arrived at our Lodge with over one hundred wounded rebels, to be cared for through the night. Only one among them seemed too weak and faint to take anything. He was badly hurt, and failing. I went to him after his wound was dressed, and found him lying on his blanket stretched over the straw,—a fair-haired, blue-eyed young lieutenant, with a face innocent enough for one of our own New England boys. I could not think of him as a rebel; he was too near heaven for that. He wanted nothing,—had not been willing to eat for days, his comrades said; but I coaxed him to try a little milk gruel, made nicely with lemon and brandy; and one of the satisfactions of our three weeks is the remembrance of the empty cup I took away afterward, and his perfect enjoyment of that supper. 'It was so good, the best thing he had had since he was wounded,'—and he thanked me so much, and talked about his 'good supper' for hours. Poor fellow, he had had no care, and it was a surprise and pleasure to find himself thought of; so, in a pleased, childlike way, he talked about it till midnight, the attendant told me, as long as he spoke of anything; for at midnight the change came, and from that time he only thought of the old days before he was a soldier, when he sang hymns in his father's church. He sang them now again in a clear, sweet voice. 'Lord, have mercy upon me;' and then songs without words—a sort of low intoning. His father was a Lutheran clergyman in South Carolina, one of the rebels told us in the morning, when we went into the tent, to find him sliding out of our care. All day long we watched him,—sometimes[337] fighting his battles over, often singing his Lutheran chants, till, in at the tent-door, close to which he lay, looked a rebel soldier, just arrived with other prisoners. He started when he saw the lieutenant, and quickly kneeling down by him, called, 'Henry! Henry!' But Henry was looking at some one a great way off, and could not hear him. 'Do you know this soldier?' we said. 'Oh, yes, ma'am; and his brother is wounded and a prisoner, too, in the cars, now.' Two or three men started after him, found him, and half carried him from the cars to our tent. 'Henry' did not know him, though; and he threw himself down by his side on the straw, and for the rest of the day lay in a sort of apathy, without speaking, except to assure himself that he could stay with his brother, without the risk of being separated from his fellow-prisoners. And there the brothers lay, and there we strangers sat watching and listening to the strong, clear voice, singing, 'Lord, have mercy upon me.' The Lord had mercy; and at sunset I put my hand on the lieutenant's heart, to find it still. All night the brother lay close against the coffin, and in the morning went away with his comrades, leaving us to bury Henry, having 'confidence;' but first thanking us for what we had done, and giving us all that he had to show his gratitude,—the palmetto ornament from his brother's cap and a button from his coat. Dr. W. read the burial service that morning at the grave, and —— wrote his name on the little head-board: 'Lieutenant Rauch, Fourteenth Regiment South Carolina Volunteers.'


"For this temporary sheltering and feeding of all these wounded men, Government could make no provision. There was nothing for them, if too late for the cars, except the open field and hunger, in preparation for their fatiguing journey. It is expected when the cars are ready that the men will be promptly sent to meet them, and Government cannot provide for mistakes and delays; so that, but for the Sanitary Commission's Lodge and comfortable supplies, for which the wounded are indebted to the hard workers at home, men badly hurt must have suffered night and day, while waiting for the 'next train.' We had on an average sixty of such men each night for three weeks under our care,—sometimes one hundred, sometimes only thirty; and with the 'delegation,' and the help of other gentlemen volunteers, who all worked devotedly for the men, the whole thing was a great success, and you and all of us can't help being thankful that we had a share, however small, in making it so. Sixteen thousand good meals were given; hundreds of men kept through the day, and twelve hundred sheltered at night, their wounds dressed, their supper and breakfast secured—rebels and all. You will not, I am sure, regret that these most wretched men, these 'enemies,' 'sick and in prison,' were helped and cared for through your supplies, though, certainly, they were not in your minds when you packed your barrels and boxes. The clothing we reserved for our own men, except now and then when a shivering rebel needed it; but in feeding them we could make no distinctions.



Four thousand soldiers, too badly hurt to be moved, were still left in Gettysburg, cared for kindly and well at the large, new Government hospital, with a Sanitary Commission attachment.

"Our work was over, our tents were struck, and we came away after a flourish of trumpets from two military bands who filed down to our door, and gave us a farewell 'Red, white, and blue.'"
http://gutenberg.readingroo.ms/2/1/8/5/21853/21853-h/21853-h.htm#Page_241
 

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I love these kinds of personal accounts. It gives us a window to the past. When written by a historian who regurgitates facts and summarizes experiences the true impact is lost to a degree. The first hand accounts are always the best, thanks for sharing Georgiana's with us.

'An old lady, you know; and I couldn't let an old lady sleep on the floor.' Such acts of kindness and self-denial were almost entirely confined to the women.. ( edit- there must be a story behind this statement on Georgiana's part )

You know I thought the very same thing. I can't imagine she would have made the statement unless she had a good reason to do so. There weren't many civilian men around. Makes you wonder if she referred to the soldiers who were fortunate enough to have not been wounded or if she meant the men in town of fighting age who managed to escape service and were less than accommodating.
 
I love these kinds of personal accounts. It gives us a window to the past. When written by a historian who regurgitates facts and summarizes experiences the true impact is lost to a degree. The first hand accounts are always the best, thanks for sharing Georgiana's with us.



You know I thought the very same thing. I can't imagine she would have made the statement unless she had a good reason to do so. There weren't many civilian men around. Makes you wonder if she referred to the soldiers who were fortunate enough to have not been wounded or if she meant the men in town of fighting age who managed to escape service and were less than accommodating.

You know, wondered about this too? Georgiana seems so very kind, whatever had roused her ire enough to point this out must be some story? In copy/pasting this from Archives, picked through a lengthy article/short book. I don't know how much you've read on the citizens of Gettysburg? Really, rose far above ' service' to the sublime- inevitably a sour apple was encountered by out of staters, then written of. A very, very unfair article made its way to the NY Times stating citizens were churlish and unhelpful. Pretty hurtful given nearly every house was filled with wounded. Anyway, Georgiana managed to encounter a sour apple- a farmer who displayed vast self interest. She really disliked him of course then wrote of him- as a local. Wonder how much of a part he played in her observations- which seems to target local men?
 
You know, wondered about this too? Georgiana seems so very kind, whatever had roused her ire enough to point this out must be some story? In copy/pasting this from Archives, picked through a lengthy article/short book. I don't know how much you've read on the citizens of Gettysburg? Really, rose far above ' service' to the sublime- inevitably a sour apple was encountered by out of staters, then written of. A very, very unfair article made its way to the NY Times stating citizens were churlish and unhelpful. Pretty hurtful given nearly every house was filled with wounded. Anyway, Georgiana managed to encounter a sour apple- a farmer who displayed vast self interest. She really disliked him of course then wrote of him- as a local. Wonder how much of a part he played in her observations- which seems to target local men?

I agree, I've read a number of letters from her through the years and she's generally a very nice person. Once in a while she'll mention a specific incident involving a curmudgeon who doesn't approve of women nursing, but never did I see her blanket men.

I had seen the article about how citizens in town were unhelpful, which of course couldn't be further from the truth! There were some cranky folks in town who were not thrilled about the situation (honestly who would be?!), but almost all went with the flow and were so kind and helpful before, during and after the battle. I've read extensively on the civilian situation in the town in the past few years and hadn't heard the story about this farmer Georgiana encountered.
 
I agree, I've read a number of letters from her through the years and she's generally a very nice person. Once in a while she'll mention a specific incident involving a curmudgeon who doesn't approve of women nursing, but never did I see her blanket men.

I had seen the article about how citizens in town were unhelpful, which of course couldn't be further from the truth! There were some cranky folks in town who were not thrilled about the situation (honestly who would be?!), but almost all went with the flow and were so kind and helpful before, during and after the battle. I've read extensively on the civilian situation in the town in the past few years and hadn't heard the story about this farmer Georgiana encountered.


No, and worse, some story seems to have circulated into papers nationally- have the clippings somewhere, about Gettysburg citizens being greedy and rude. The ' greed' part seems to have been outsiders coming in and selling bandages and food to wounded- at horrific prices! It does sound as if a farmer here and there was a jerk- bound to be the proverbial rotten apple although in this case no one else was spoiled. There was a huge outcry, soldiers who had been nursed there leaping to the defense.

http://civilwartalk.com/threads/july-1-1863-the-beginning-of-after-for-gettysburg-citizens.122683/

Someone asked me to start a ' Gettysburg Citizens ' thread although I think I have not included those stories? In the interests of history they should be there but are so awful given what genuinely occurred, it galls me to have them there. The thread is a place to link individual threads and post stories of citizens- we had them scattered all the heck all over the forum! Really should be updated, have a few more in the past months.
 
There was a request for accounts of hospitals and medical care. I'll bet a ton of money for every one we have, ten more are out there undiscovered. Heck, accounts that got a lot of attention at the time are almost forgotten in 2019. The ladies from a Lancaster Church wrote an account- theirs dovetails with Georgiana's. They pitched a tent next to her group.
 
Thank You for sharing these wonderful and interesting personal accounts of a not so well known nurse who's personal story should be told by a talented historical writer as part of the ever evolving historical tapestry of the Battle of Gettysburg and its aftermath left on a civilian population who was rewarded with nothing more than the stench of death and caring of the wounded while surrounded by an environment of destruction. David.
 
If this double posts it'll be because the post I wrote vanished when I hit ' post reply '. It's confusing someone out there in cyber space at the moment.

Comment was, these insights of yours are a terrific indication why that green banner below your user name is there.
 
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