bodies of the
filthy and negligent everywhere. They especially delight in living with
those who rarely change their body-linen and bedding. They were carried
into and established themselves in the new barracks of Camp Cameron in
Cambridge, Massachusetts; but they are never found in the Boston House
of Correction, which receives its recruits from the filthiest dens of
iniquity, because the energetic master enforces thorough cleansing on
every new-comer, and continues it so long as he remains.

The camps and police of the present Union army, though better than the
average of others and far above some, are yet not in as healthy
condition as they might be. The Report of the Sanitary Commission to the
Secretary of War, December, 1861, says: "Of the camps inspected, 5 per
cent, were in admirable order, 45 per cent, fairly clean and well
policed. The condition of 26 per cent, was negligent and slovenly, and
that of 21 per cent, decidedly bad, filthy, and dangerous." [70] The
same Report adds: "On the whole, a very marked and gratifying
improvement has occurred during the summer." And that improvement has
been going on ever since. Yet the description of a camp at Grafton,
Virginia, in March, shows that there a very bad and dangerous state of
things existed at that time, and "one-seventh of the regiment was sick
and unfit for duty"; but the bold and clear report of Dr. Hammond of the
United States Army produced a decided and favorable change, and "the
regiment has now less than the average amount of sickness." [71]

The hospitals of the army are mostly buildings erected for other
purposes, and not fitted for their present use; and the sudden influx of
a large military population, with its usual amount of sickness, has
often crowded these receptacles of the suffering soldiers. For want of
experience on the part of the officers, surgeons, nurses, and men, in
the management of such establishments, they are sometimes in very bad
and unhealthy condition. In Cumberland, Maryland, fifteen buildings were
occupied by about five hundred patients. These buildings had been
warehouses, hotels, etc., with few or none of the conveniences for the
sick. They were densely crowded; in some the men were "lying on the
floor as thickly as they could be packed." One room with 960 feet of air
contained four patients. Dr. Hammond's description of the eighty-three
rooms and the condition of the patients in them seems to justify the
terms he frequently