LETTER XXXV.
Benton Barracks Hospital,
March 12, 1864.
Darling Mother,—I was so glad to get your letter
yesterday. I wanted to answer it right off, but had
not time, there was so much to do. My head fairly
ached, so much coming into it all at once it could not
quite hold it all. We have many patients here, very
sick men among them. All sorts of sicknesses, and I
am sorry to say, small-pox still appears. We had four
cases in one ward to-day; they were removed to the
small-pox hospital on the river. No small-pox cases
remain in this hospital for treatment. We have the
erysipelas cases however, and that is about as bad while
it lasts. We have twenty-six cases of this alone; the
other sick count by hundreds. There is one ward
where we have colored women and children; it is very
funny, the queerest little pickaninnies!
I had a very pleasant visit at the Chauvenets; I
came out and saw the Doctor every day, and went
over nurses with Mr. Yeatman. I came out finally
on Wednesday; my baggage came out the next day;
I have my old room, neatly arranged and every thing
I need.
There are a great number of frost-bites in the hospital.
The negroes lay in the woods and fields in cold
weather while escaping from their masters. The foot of
one man is off nearly to his ancle; but he is bright and
cheery: freedom seems to be the main thing. I had a
great many warm greetings from old friends; I hope I
shall be able to be of use here yet.
