The Best of Friends and Most Determined of Enemies: A Pennsylvania Surgeon Among the Confederates After Chancellorsville
Ordered across the Rappahannock after the conclusion of the Battle of Chancellorsville, Surgeon John W. Rawlins of the 88th Pennsylvania might have expected a grim task ahead of him. What surprised the Pennsylvanian was the courtesy and kindness with which he was treated by his Confederate hosts.
Arriving at
the field hospital set up at Salem Church, Surgeon Rawlins recalled the warm
friendships that soon developed with his counterparts in gray. “During our stay
of four days and four nights at this church and in its vicinity, we had a great
many Rebel visitors from the generals down with whom we freely expressed
opinions, discussing politics and the war freely,” he wrote. “We were treated
with much courtesy and invariably with politeness. We had the pleasure of
meeting surgeons from Kentucky, Alabama, Georgia, Mississippi, and Virginia,
some of whom had been college mates of ours in Philadelphia, and others were
well acquainted with many of our former friends. Our social evenings at Salem
Church with the Rebel surgeons seemed more like the reunion of well-tried
friends after a long separation. We shook hands and parted the best of friends
but the most determined of enemies.”
Among the
surgeons he met was Dr. George Rogers Clark Todd, the younger brother of Mary
Todd Lincoln. “I showed him a likeness (on a $10 greenback which by the way is
a very true likeness) of his distinguished brother-in-law,” Rawlins noted. “Dr.
Todd remarked that he considered the “circumstance no credit and no discredit.”
Someone suggested that he should send Mrs. Lincoln a letter; he declined but
said we “might give his respects.”
Surgeon Rawlins’ remarkable letter first saw publication in the May 20, 1863, edition of the Lancaster Daily Evening Express published in Lancaster, Pennsylvania.
Camp in the pines, Virginia
May 14, 1863
During the
afternoon of the May 6, 1863, we had another thunderstorm, accompanied by heavy
rains, which made our camping place that night very muddy and unpleasant. But
fortunately, I succeeded in obtaining possession of an outhouse partly filled
with hat which I converted into a hospital for the night, furnished a dry
lodging place for some 10-15 guests.
The next day,
May 7th, we encamped under shelter tents near our present location
and on the 8th, we pitched tents and prepared to make ourselves comfortable.
But while I was sitting by a warm fire in my little camp stove between 5 and 6
o’clock, drying my feet and congratulating myself upon the creature comforts
which I was about to enjoy, I received an order to proceed immediately with
instruments and report to Dr. A. of the U.S. Army at Banks’ Ford. I would go
with a flag of truce within the enemy’s lines to attend our wounded on the
battlefield. In a few minutes, I was on the road and was joined at corps
headquarters by six other surgeons. We proceeded on our lonely, devious, and
dark road in pursuit of science or rather practice under difficulties.
After being
conducted from one line of pickets to another, we got lost, but after discovering
a farmhouse in the distance, we determined to go there and obtain a guide or remain
the balance of the night. Fortunately, we found Dr. A. there to whom we were to
report. We soon unburdened and fed our horses, unrolled our blankets on the
floor and went to sleep supperless. Next morning, after a good breakfast
furnished for us at 50 cents each by the kind farmer, we proceeded with our
boats and several wagonloads of supplies to Banks’ Ford, which, by courtesy of
the Rebels whose pickets lined the south bank, allowed a number of us to cross.
The balance was sent up to the United States Ford to cross over to the
battlefield of Chancellorsville. Three of us went on in advance, being guided
by a Rebel lieutenant colonel and a major on horseback who courteously carried
our field cases of instruments. We had to leave our horses on the north side of
the river, not being able to get them over.
The first lot
of wounded we came to numbered about 70 and occupied the barn of a man named
Hogan. Our services being more urgently needed further on, we proceeded (after
stopping at several houses on the way where lots of 4-6 men were quartered) to
Salem Church. This church is a brick building (of good size for a country
church) and is situated on the Plank Road leading from Fredericksburg to
Chancellorsville. Here we found nearly 100 of our wounded under the care of Dr.
O. of the 121st New York who had been detained by the Rebels. [The
121st New York under the command of Colonel Emory Upton reportedly
lost 48 killed, 173 wounded, and 55 missing in the engagement near Salem Church
on May 3, 1863; 32 of the 55 missing were subsequently discovered to have been
killed in action.]
During our
stay of four days and four nights at this church and in its vicinity, we had a
great many Rebel visitors from the generals down with whom we freely expressed
opinions, discussing politics and the war freely. We were treated with much
courtesy and invariably with politeness. We had the pleasure of meeting
surgeons from Kentucky, Alabama, Georgia, Mississippi, and Virginia, some of
whom had been college mates of ours in Philadelphia [Jefferson Medical School], and others were well
acquainted with many of our former friends. Our social evenings at Salem Church
with the Rebel surgeons seemed more like the reunion of well-tried friends
after a long separation. Although our political sentiments were as wide asunder
as the poles, I am sure both parties were highly gratified by the courteous,
kind, and gentlemanly treatment received at each other’s hands. We shook hands
and parted the best of friends but the most determined of enemies. I could not
but contrast their conversation and conduct with that of our Copperhead friends
of the North. The Rebel gentleman is a noble lion, the Copperhead a sneaking
hyena.
On Sunday May
10th, the Rebels having furnished is with an ambulance or two and
several wagons, we placed in them about 50 of our best cases and we three
surgeons accompanied them on foot about four miles to Fredericksburg where they
were paroled and permitted to be sent across by General Barksdale. Having left
sufficient surgeons on the battleground, we proposed to cross over and rejoin
our commands but General Barksdale would not permit us. I made a virtue of
necessity and remarked to Barksdale that it was immaterial as we had so far
been treated with great courtesy and anticipated nothing less than a
continuance of the same. He replied that there was a hotel in Fredericksburg
where we might go, but knowing very well what poor fare and high charges we
might expect at a hotel in Rebeldom, I suggested that as we could still render
some service at Salem Church, I would prefer to return there. He replied that
he had no objection to that.
So, we walked
back again accompanied a great part of the way by three Rebel soldiers who
entertained us with their account of the battle. We entered Fredericksburg
about an hour after their great General Stonewall Jackson died; he was wounded
in both arms, only one of which he would suffer to be amputated. The Rebels
said he was wounded accidentally by his own men who mistook him for a Union
officer. They also state the cause of his death was pneumonia, but it is more
probable, I think, that it was consequent upon his wounds and those wounds
received from the enemy in battle as it was said he took command in person of
the Stonewall Brigade after the death of Brigadier General Elisha Paxton. In
passing through Fredericksburg, we witnessed the burial of a Rebel officer and
the brass band striking up a tune immediately behind us, we marched for the
first time in our lives to Rebel music.
Fredericksburg
is a deserted city; there are but few women and children to be seen, but those
few seemed quite interested in the appearance of “the Yankee officers.” A lot
of well-dressed boys volunteered to show us the way down to the crossing which
was opposite the Lacey House. Many of the finest houses were deserted, the
gardens running wild with grass and beautiful flowers. We passed the celebrated
Marye’s Heights which Sedgwick had the honor of taking but could not keep; we
walked back the same road many of the troops took tom escape at Banks’ Ford.
But, more unfortunate than us,
they met a lion in their path in the shape of General [Cadmus] Wilcox’s
brigade, strongly posted behind breastworks made of planks taken from the Plank
Road. The Rebels say this was constructed after the battle, but I do not
believe a word of it for the walls, windows, and ceiling of the brick church
are thickly strewn with the shreds of garments, letters to Federal soldiers,
memorandum books, etc. All show plainly that a desperate contest occurred there
and the numerous graves provide still better proof. The Rebels say our troops
advanced without throwing out skirmishers; the Rebel skirmishers quietly
retiring and leading the Federals right into the open space in front of the
Rebel lines.
The officers
we met with were nearly all intelligent and good-looking gentlemen. Some of
them wore uniforms of coarse material, but all appeared to enjoy good health
and to be able to endure considerable service. But they did not endeavor to
deny the fact that their men were all in the field, but they also assume our
conscripts won’t fight and that their veterans are more than a match for ours,
having full confidence in their commanders. They estimate our so-called peace
men and Copperheads (Vallandigham, Woods, Sanderson, etc.) at their proper value.
They know these truckling doughfaces of old and spur their sympathies as they
would the caress of a troublesome, fawning spaniel.
Among our
visitors was Dr. [George Rogers Clark] Todd, chief surgeon of Semmes’ brigade.
Dr. Todd is a brother of Mrs. President Lincoln. I showed him a likeness (on a
$10 greenback which by the way is a very true likeness) of his distinguished
brother-in-law. The Rebel officers all took a good look at the engraving. Dr.
Todd remarked that he considered the “circumstance no credit and no discredit.”
Someone suggested that he should send Mrs. Lincoln a letter; he declined but
said we “might give his respects.” The last time he saw Mr. Lincoln was some
seven years ago at his father’s home in Lexington, Kentucky. One of our Rebel
surgeons has a father residing in Westmoreland County, New York while another
has a mother and sister residing in Cecil County, Maryland, my old home and the
land of my birth.
On Wednesday morning last, having sent over the last of our 200 wounded, we bid adieu to Secessia, glad once more to hear Yankee Doddle and to see our blue-clad fellow soldiers. We traveled once more from the extreme right to the extreme left of our lines, through camps innumerable. All seemed happy as larks, enjoying the bright warm weather and the welcome rest after their arduous toils. The army, as far as I can judge, is just as effective and courageous and is able and willing to fight another battle just as they were before the late fight. I could detect no signs of decimation or demoralization and if we could only get a fair chance at the enemy in an open field, I have no doubt we can whip them.
Source:
Letter from Surgeon John Windsor Rawlins, 88th
Pennsylvania Volunteer Infantry, Lancaster Daily Evening Express
(Pennsylvania), May 20, 1863, pgs. 1-2
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