LETTER XXXVIII.
Benton Barracks Hospital,
March 21.
Darling Mother,—I felt a little lonely to-night,
so thought I would write a line to you. I do not go
out evenings on account of pneumonia; the Doctor is
afraid of my having it. I get very tired in the daytime
and am glad to rest when night comes. Is there
any news with you? Do tell me how your wrist is, and
how you and father are generally. I feel already
as if I had drifted far off away from you all. I work
over our poor colored soldiers, and they are so grateful
for our care. They are as pleasant to take care of as
white soldiers, and the wards are as nice, both with
regard to comfort and order. We have water enough,
the Mississippi has not yet given out, and the reservoir
has been cleaned. We have a new arrangement here
now; the great amphitheatre is to be what is called a
general hospital, that is a hospital that takes in any
patients that the military government sends. The
outside wards, or buildings, are mostly for the post hospital;
that is, they only take the soldiers from the adjacent
military post of Benton Barracks. The general
hospital is to be entirely for colored soldiers. It is to
be the colored hospital; we shall probably have colored
soldiers from down the river. There are over seventy
thousand colored soldiers in the Western army. There
is a great interest excited here with regard to their
care and treatment. Some of the most influential men
at the West are taking up the matter. This hospital
is doing a great work, not merely by taking care of
their bodies, but by bringing around them noble,
devoted men and women who give the blacks the
place which freedmen should have, and treat them
rightly and make others treat them rightly. There is
too much of a feeling among many here that they
must be treated like inferior beings; they are only
inferior from neglect, that is, in many respects; I hope
I shall see my way clear to do my duty by them and
all. If you have any thoughts about it in any way,
let me have them, for you always help me.
