character. A hospital tent
had been hurriedly erected and an old house and barn utilized. Of
course, I saw nothing of it or its work until the evening after the
battle, when I went to see the body of our dead colonel and some of our
Scranton boys who were wounded. Outside the hospital were piles of
amputated arms, legs, and feet, thrown out with as little care as so
many pieces of wood. There were also many dead soldiers--those who had
died after reaching the hospital--lying outside, there being inside
scant room only for the living. Here, on bunches of hay and straw, the
poor fellows were lying so thickly that there was scarce room for the
surgeon and attendants to move about among them. Others were not allowed
inside, except officers and an occasional friend who might be helping.
Our chaplain spent his time here and did yeoman service helping the
wounded. Yet all that could be done with the limited means at hand
seemed only to accentuate the appalling need. The pallid, appealing
faces were patient with a heroism born only of the truest metal. I was
told by the surgeons that such expressions as this were not infrequent
as they approached a man in his "turn": "Please, doctor, attend to this
poor fellow next; he's worse than I," and this when his own life's blood
was fast oozing away.

Most of the wounded had to wait hours before having their wounds
dressed, owing to insufficient force and inadequate facilities. I was
told that not a surgeon had his eyes closed for three days after this
battle. The doctors of neighboring towns within reach came and
voluntarily gave their services, yet it is doubtless true that hundreds
of the wounded perished for want of prompt and proper care. This is one
of the unavoidable incidents of a great battle--a part of the horrors of
war. The rebel wounded necessarily were second to our own in receiving
care from the surgeons, yet they, too, received all the attention that
was possible under the circumstances. Some of their surgeons remained
with their wounded, and I am told they and our own surgeons worked
together most energetically and heroically in their efforts to relieve
the sufferings of all, whether they wore the blue or the gray.
Suffering, it has been said, makes all the world akin. So here, in our
lines, the wounded rebel was lost sight of in the suffering brother.

We remained on the battle-field until September 21, four days after the
fight.

My notes of this day say that I was