cots; seldom even a mattress on the ground. It is pretty cold. I go around
from one case to another. I do not see that I can do any good, but I
cannot leave them. Once in a while some youngster holds on to me
convulsively, and I do what I can for him; at any rate, stop with him and
sit near him for hours, if he wishes it.

"Besides the hospitals, I also go occasionally on long tours through the
camps, talking with the men, etc.; sometimes at night among the groups
around the fires, in their shebang enclosures of bushes. I soon get
acquainted anywhere in camp, with officers or men, and am always well
used. Sometimes I go down on picket with the regiments I know best."

After continuing in front through the winter, he returns to Washington,
where the wounded and sick have mainly been concentrated. The Capital
city, truly, is now one huge hospital; and there Whitman establishes
himself, and thenceforward, for several years, has but one daily and
nightly avocation.

He alludes to writing letters by the bedside, and says:--

"I do a good deal of this, of course, writing all kinds, including
love-letters. Many sick and wounded soldiers have not written home to
parents, brothers, sisters, and even wives, for one reason or another, for
a long, long time. Some are poor writers, some cannot get paper and
envelopes; many have an aversion to writing, because they dread to worry
the folks at home,--the facts about them are so sad to tell. I always
encourage the men to write, and promptly write for them."

A glimpse of the scenes after Chancellorsville:--

"As I write this, in May, 1863, the wounded have begun to arrive from
Hooker's command from bloody Chancellorsville. I was down among the first
arrivals. The men in charge of them told me the bad cases were yet to
come. If that is so, I pity them, for these are bad enough. You ought to
see the scene of the wounded arriving at the landing here foot of Sixth
Street at night. Two boat-loads came about half past seven last night. A
little after eight, it rained a long and violent shower. The poor, pale,
helpless soldiers had been debarked, and lay around on the wharf and
neighborhood anywhere. The rain was, probably, grateful to them; at any
rate they were exposed to it.

"The few torches light up the spectacle. All around on the wharf, on the
ground, out on side places, etc., the men are lying on blankets and old
quilts, with the bloody rags bound round heads, arms, legs, etc.