led up with rheumatism
and out-groaning all the victims of _real_ sickness or horrible
wounds, had remained huddled up in bed until danger was over. After
having been deceived a few times by these cowards, I became expert at
recognizing them, and paid them no attention whatever. I really
believe that in some cases it was a physical impossibility for men to
face the guns on a battle-field, and I have known instances of
soldiers who deliberately shot off their own fingers to escape a
fight. These men were conscious of their own defects, and often,
smarting under a knowledge that the blistering, purging, and
nauseating process pursued in such cases by the surgeons was intended
as a punishment, grew ugly and mischievous, seeking revenge by
maligning those in authority. I do not know what abuses may have
existed in other hospitals of the Confederacy; I can, however, say
with entire truth that I never saw or heard of a more self-sacrificing
set of men than the surgeons I met and served under during the war.
With only two exceptions, they were devoted to their patients, and as
attentive as in private practice or as the immense number of sick
allowed them to be. These exceptions were both men who were unwilling
to get up at night, and if called were fearfully cross. At one time I
had a fierce contest with a surgeon of this kind, and fought it out,
coming off victorious. I was called up one night to see a patient who
had required and received the closest attention, but who was, we
hoped, improving. Finding him apparently dying, I sent at once for
Doctor ----, meanwhile trying, with the help of the nurse, every means
to bring back warmth to his body, administering stimulants, rubbing
the extremities with mustard, and applying mustard-plasters. The poor
fellow was conscious, and evidently very much frightened; he had
insisted upon sending for me and seemed to be satisfied that I would
do everything in my power. Doctor ---- came in, looking black as a
thunder-cloud. "What the devil is all this fuss about? what are you
going to do with that mustard-plaster? Better apply it to that pine
table; it would do as much good;" then to the nurse, "Don't bother
that fellow any more; let him die in peace." My temper was up, and I
rushed at once into battle. "Sir," said I, "if you have given the
patient up, _I have not_ and _will not_. No true physician would show
such brutality." He was nearly bursting with rage. "I shall report
you, madam." "