The Atlantic Monthly | Page 5

tree somewhere at the rear. The
ground was covered with wounded, and the doctors were busy at an
operating-table, improvised from two barrels and a plank. At length
two of them who were examining the wounded about me came up to
where I lay. A hospital steward raised my head, and poured down some
brandy and water, while another cut loose my pantaloons. The doctors
exchanged looks, and walked away. I asked the steward where I was
hit.
"Both thighs," said he; "the Doc's won't do nothing."
"No use?" said I.
"Not much," said he.
"Not much means none at all," I answered.
When he had gone, I set myself to thinking about a good many things
which I had better have thought of before, but which in no way concern
the history of my case. A half-hour went by. I had no pain, and did not
get weaker. At last, I cannot explain why, I began to look about me. At
first, things appeared a little hazy; but I remember one which thrilled
me a little, even then.

A tall, blond-bearded major walked up to a doctor near me, saying,
"When you've a little leisure, just take a look at my side."
"Do it now," said the doctor.
The officer exposed his left hip. "Ball went in here, and out here."
The Doctor looked up at him with a curious air,--half pity, half
amazement. "If you've got any message, you'd best send it by me."
"Why, you don't say its serious?" was the reply.
"Serious! Why, you're shot through the stomach. You won't live over
the day."
Then the man did what struck me as a very odd thing. "Anybody got a
pipe?" Some one gave him a pipe. He filled it deliberately, struck a
light with a flint, and sat down against a tree near to me. Presently the
doctor came over to him, and asked what he could do for him.
"Send me a drink of Bourbon."
"Anything else?"
"No."
As the doctor left him, he called him back. "It's a little rough, Doc, isn't
it?"
No more passed, and I saw this man no longer, for another set of
doctors were handling my legs, for the first time causing pain. A
moment after, a steward put a towel over my mouth, and I smelt the
familiar odor of chloroform, which I was glad enough to breathe. In a
moment the trees began to move around from left to right,--then faster
and faster; then a universal grayness came before me, and I recall
nothing further until I awoke to consciousness in a hospital-tent. I got
hold of my own identity in a moment or two, and was suddenly aware
of a sharp cramp in my left leg. I tried to get at it to rub it with my
single arm, but, finding myself too weak, hailed an attendant. "Just rub

my left calf," said I, "if you please."
"Calf?" said he, "you ain't none, pardner. It's took off."
"I know better," said I. "I have pain in both legs."
"Wall, I never!" said he. "You ain't got nary leg."
As I did not believe him, he threw off the covers, and, to my horror,
showed me that I had suffered amputation of both thighs, very high up.
"That will do," said I, faintly.
A month later, to the amazement of every one, I was so well as to be
moved from the crowded hospital at Chattanooga to Nashville, where I
filled one of the ten thousand beds of that vast metropolis of hospitals.
Of the sufferings which then began I shall presently speak. It will be
best just now to detail the final misfortune which here fell upon me.
Hospital No. 2, in which I lay, was inconveniently crowded with
severely wounded officers. After my third week, an epidemic of
hospital gangrene broke out in my ward. In three days it attacked
twenty persons. Then an inspector came out, and we were transferred at
once to the open air, and placed in tents. Strangely enough, the wound
in my remaining arm, which still suppurated, was seized with gangrene.
The usual remedy, bromine, was used locally, but the main artery
opened, was tied, bled again and again, and at last, as a final resort, the
remaining arm was amputated at the shoulder-joint. Against all chances
I recovered, to find myself a useless torso, more like some strange
larval creature than anything of human shape. Of my anguish and
horror of myself I dare not speak. I have dictated these pages, not to
shock my readers, but to possess them with facts in regard to the
relation of the mind to the body; and I hasten, therefore, to such
portions of my case as best illustrate these views.
In January, 1864,