Surgical Methods, O.S. Werts
War Recollections, O.S. Werts
Letter, S.G. Welch, 05/27/1862
Letter, S.G. Welch, 12/24/1862
Letter, S.G. Welch, 06/21/1863
Letter, S.G. Welch, 10/28/1863
Letter, J.N. George, 04/18/1862

Surgical Methods During the War Between the States
by O.S. Werts, 13th Regiment, Company G

At the battle of Sharpsburg, my friend, John Denny, of Company E, 7th Regiment, was shot entirely through the lower jaw, and arms. He was in a pitiful condition and the great fortitude and heroism of the Confederate soldier is shown in the fact that he actually walked 40 miles before he received any medical attention. He was in such a state that it was seen he would be unfit for any further service if he lived. There was no time for splinting a broken arm, which healed with only bandages and a sling. The jaw received the usual application of cold water. As soon as he was in condition to get to his home, he was retired from the service. Denny greatly regretted that it was his misfortune to have to give up the fight and still wanted to remain, but was persuaded that it would be useless to try to serve. Such was the spirit of the Confederate soldier-loyal to the cause, willing and ready to fight to the end.

War Recollections of O. Simeon Werts

When the mutterings of the war broke out, I immediately volunteered for service for my country and entered with a brave spirit, even a daring spirit. I was ever ready to undertake anything.

I recall while in Virginia at Reams' Station, I was sent out scouting. The enemy's picket post was somewhere nearby, and our captain wanted two men to go out. One soldier said, "Well, if Sim is going, I am with him." I thought soon that I saw a Union soldier, and I told my companion to stay behind 75 yards or more. I eased myself up behind him and called to him to stan perfectly still and drop his gun, which he did, being thoroughly surprised. I then had him walk beside me and carried him to camp.

The Yankees did not shoot at me as we were going off, for I saw we were being noted, because they thought I was captured.

Again I captured a Union soldier and brought him into camp. I managed to slip on him and he was a wonderful capture, for he had papers in his pocket that proved him a spy and he was surely going to do us harm, but I nabbed him first, I was commended for my daring spirit. Guess my small stature kept me from being seen by any of the enemy as I would be out picketing.

I was wounded three times during the war, and each seemed fatal, but somehow I lived even though shot in the head. It was at Gettysburg that I was severely shot through the left wrist, and General Longstreet's men, finding me on the ground, carried me to the hospital. Here I was told to wait in an anteroom until my time for examination came. I waited all night, suffering horribly, using just cold water poured over the wound. I had no other attention. Then an order came for all who could walk to move on.

The doctor looked at my arm and, pushing through some small pieces of shattered bone, let me go on. No one ever knows what a fearful time I had on that 15-mile walk. Whenever I could, I bathed the arm in water.
What would a doctor think now to pour water from a running stream over a wound. At Richmond Hospital, where I soon landed, I found such awful suffering and men dying that I forgot my wound and began to help care for others more wounded than I.

Eventually the arm healed, but never did have any dressing at all, only cold water and pieces of cloth wrapped about it to keep out dust, and the flies, for some poor fellows were so unfortunate as to have flies blow their wounds.

God was very merciful to me and was my Guardian throughout the war or my daring, in defense of my country, many times put me at the mercy of the enemy.

Letters from Spencer Glasgow Welch
Taken from A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife

Hanover County, Va.,
May 27, 1862.
We have just finished a forced march of about forty miles, and have fallen back from near Fredericksburg to within ten miles of Richmond. The Yankees intend to take the Richmond and Potomac Railroad, so we came to reinforce the army already stationed here.

We started last Saturday about dark and continued to travel over the bad, muddy roads all night. We had a very tedious march and did not stop except to get the artillery out of the mire,, and at one time to eat and rest a little. Whenever the men would come to mud holes and fords of rivers they would plunge right in without hesitating a moment. This is necessary, because an army must never be allowed to hesitate at anything.
Our brigade consists of the Twelfth, Thirteenth, and Fourteenth South Carolina and the Thirty-eighth North Carolina regiments, and is commanded by General Maxcy Gregg.

Our division is about fifteen thousand strong and is commanded by General Joseph R. Anderson. It extended several miles, and whenever we would get into a long, straight piece of road where I could look back the sight was most amazing. The compact mass moved four deep, and, with their glittering guns, looked like a river of human beings.

I stood the march finely, and your brother Edwin did not seem to be jaded at all, neither did Billie. Coppock was too sick to move, so we left him behind; but I do not believe he will fall into the hands of the enemy. They are not advancing in that direction. We have been living on crackers and bacon, but I got a fine breakfast this morning on the road. General Gregg and his staff were present and I had the honor of being introduced to them all.

There is little doubt but that we shall get into a fight very soon, possibly before you receive this letter. There must be fighting somewhere on the line now, for I hear the booming of field pieces. We are well prepared for them, and whether we whip them or not they cannot whip us badly.

Take good care of yourself and George.

Camp near Fredericksburg, Va.,
December, 24, 1862.
The Yankees seem to loath to make another advance since the good whipping we gave them here on the thirteenth in the battle of Fredericksburg. Milton Bossardt's company went into the fight with forty men, and thirty of them were killed or wounded. He escaped very narrowly. A hole was shot through his hat and one of his shoe heels was shot off. Pick Stevens never shuns a fight. He goes boldly into them all.

I will not write you about the battle, for you must have seen enough in the newspapers concerning it. According to their own newspaper accounts, the Yankees were defeated much worse than we at first thought they were.
Some of us sent out to-day and got some eggs, and are going to have an egg-nog to-night, so you see we are trying to have some enjoyment for Christmas if we are out here in the woods. The government is trying to help us, for we drew several extra good things to-day.
You must keep in good spirits. I will get home some of these days yet. I may surprise you.

Between Front Royal and Winchester, Va.,
June 21, 1863.
We are in the Valley of Virginia again and are now within ten miles of Winchester. You cannot imagine how delighted the Valley people are at our appearance. The ladies wave their handkerchiefs from every little farmhouse we pass and cheer us onward. Such sights are enough to make anyone feel enthusiastic. As we marched through Front Royal this morning the people were in ecstasies and our bands played lively airs for them, although it is Sunday.

In coming from Fredericksburg here we have taken a much shorter route than the one we took in going from here to that place last fall. Since we left Fredericksburg last week we have not traveled more than one hundred miles, but we traveled 175 miles by the other route. We camped on the top of the mountains last night. The night before we did not go into camp until about ten o'clock, and then it began to rain furiously. We were in an open grass field and so we had to stand up and take it. It was a very heavy rain and the night was the worst I ever experienced. I sat up the entire night on a rock and kept dry with an oilcloth. Few men were so fortunate as to have so good a place to sit on as a rock. I am willing to endure almost anything, or to be deprived of almost everything, if we can have the pleasure of getting into Pennsylvania and letting the Yankees feel what it is to be invaded.

Our army is very large now, and if we get into Maryland or Pennsylvania and Hooker engages us you may be certain that he will be severely whipped. General Lee and his army are bent on it. Our troops are in fine health and I have never before seen them get along half so well on a march. Not a man has given out since the rain. I believe they will fight better than they have ever done, if such a thing could be possible. I feel fine and have stood the march admirably. We have had plenty of meat and bread to eat since we started, and I got some good rich milk this morning at Front Royal.

From where I am writing this letter I can look around me and see one of the most beautiful and fertile countries. I do wish you could see it. My servant has gone to a farmhouse, and he stays so long that I believe he is having something cooked.

I shall write to you as often as I can; so goodby to you and George.

Camp near Rappahannock River,
October 28, 1863.
There was a cavalry fight across the river yesterday, and I am told that we whipped them and took three hundred prisoners. We have been taking so many prisoners recently that we must be up with the Yankees again, or we may even have more of them in prison than they have of our men. We now have no prospect of a fight on a grand scale, and I suppose we shall go into winter quarters before much longer.

Old Jim Beauschelle, our chaplain, is out of prison and is back with us again. He was at Fort Delaware awhile, and was then sent to Johnson's Island in Lake Erie. He looks better than I ever saw him. He has a new hat, new shoes, and everything new, and looks like a new man. He speaks very highly of the Yankees and the way they treated him and of the good fare they gave him. He seems perfectly delighted with the North and the Yankees. I am sorry they did not handle him rather roughly and cure him of his wonderfully good opinion of them.

Your brother tells me you look better than you did before you were married. He says George is badly spoiled and that he will cry if you crook your finger at him. I am sorry to hear that he has been sick. In your letter you speak of his being pale and thin from teething.
I now feel quite sure that I shall be able to get home before much longer, but don't look for me until you see me walk in.

Letter of Pvt Jefferson N. George, 13th SC Volunteers,
to his wife, Nancy Bogan George
[All spelling, capitalization, punctuation, and other
grammatical errors have been left intact]

Camp glad [illegible] this April 18 1862

Der wife and Children i take my Seat to Drop you a few lines witch will informe you that i am well but i fell very week i hant been abel to doo Duty in Six days but I will go on to Day I have had the bowel complaint i hop this few lines may coom to hand and find you all well and in good hart i wont you to do the best you can and i will doo the same but hit will bee bad with [illegible] i wood not a rot to you to day to but i haft to start out on picket in the morning and will bee goon one week i rot you a leter last Sunday I wood be glad to her Whether you hav got hit or not for i put 10 dollars in hit i have got forty dolars for Mr linder i think i will send hit by Filden terner i don't now what deay hee will start but hee will bee her beforelong for the wagon gems has gon after wofordes Company now.

i will rit to you ageane next Sunday nancey if i doo get bad sick i will try to com home for thay have got orders to let the sick hav forlows where the Docters thinkes hit will doo eney good to them Tell Andy i hav got a hep of busses for him i will save them for him till i com home So i mus com to a close by saing i remain yore amost lovenist hosban ontell Deth

From Jefferson George to nancy George

[The following lines were added at the end of Jefferson's letter to Nancy:]

A few lines from John Griffin to let you know that i am well at this time hoping these few lines may find you and the Children all well Nancey you must not think hard of me for not coming to see you when i was at home I dident hav time So no more at this time
John Griffin to Nancey George