1862-07-12_Letter-A_Alvord-to-MyDear-Duplicate

July 12/62 Hosp Har. Landing My Dears I am still at work here—The misery is alleviated, but still very intense—Besides the large buildings & farms of the estate we have 50 hospital tents, each containing about 20_ & yet on every side there are those lying on the ground [unclear] sided, or, I get every thing I can into the hands of the medical staff—& then keep around the edges helping up the neglected ones. Just now by my side lies a Phil Jouare—a fine boy gently bred—to whom I have been ministering—He crawled with into the grounds yesterday (His Regt quite torn to peices—doctors & other officers gone) & has been lying all night without care, medicine or even food—Poor broken hearted fellow, He burst into tears as I spoke in sympathy to him & drew out his tale of sorrow. He at this moment is sitting up & looking

more cheerful. I gave him hot black tea with the charming crackers Mr Broughton sent. On showing him the motto he looked up and smiled at me so beautifully. A Sunday school boy of noble brow & intelligent eye evidently from some intelligent Phil family—I mention this case in some detail, that you may have a specimen of the work every moment through the day and night of any one willing or able to work—on the other side of me, as I write here on my knees lies a colored boy ragged & sick to whom I have given medicine & similar food His dark face is full of gratitude. Just around me are many others—I find where Regts did most nobly & were most dreadfully cut to peices that the remnant are most neglected They have no officers left or surgeons to look after them—are therefore not reported to the Hospital & so broken down & dispirited they lay themselves down in groups to die.—single ones like the

above Jouare crawl to where they may perhaps find relief—The rain has again made it muddy & it increases the suffering chills & cramp seize the patients as they lie on the cold wet ground, & their moans & sometimes shrieks, are dreadful I went to sleep last night in the midst of such melancholy music. I could work no longer. Do not think from all this that matters are getting worse, or that Govt are not doing all they can. We are in the midst of comfort as compared with a week since. Every thing which the surgeons & stewards can do with the means at hand is being done. Subsistance is becoming plentiful. The cooks with ten large cauldrons keep down absolute hunger with the majority—Three times a day rations come regularly. But so enormous has been the calamity, that cases which are miscellaneous & exceptional even now exist with what are really large multitudes. This must be so for some time to come.

There is an article called Egg nogg just up in bottles can Mr B send some. Many need sstimulating nourishment before they can take [unclear] food The good things sent are most timely. Shall drive out to day to the Regts with a waggon load, I mix in a little reading & so try to minister to both soul & body Yours [unclear] J W A