Medical History – Page 2 – The Gettysburg Compiler

Lisa Wolfinger, Executive Producer of PBS’s Mercy Street, Talks History and Memory

This winter, the Gettysburg Compiler will be releasing weekly posts as part of a Mercy Monday feature that will cover issues of medical history, gender and race relations, historical memory, and other themes depicted in the new PBS series Mercy Street.

Recently, I had the opportunity to interview Lisa Wolfinger, the executive producer and co-creator of Mercy Street. She kindly agreed to be interviewed by the Gettysburg Compiler about her work on the series. Wolfinger also participated in a recent conversation on local public radio station WITF’s Smart Talk program alongside the CWI’s Jill Titus and Ian Isherwood. You can hear their discussion online at WITF’s website.

Lavery: What got you interested in working on a historical drama like Mercy Street?

Wolfinger: I majored in European History at Sussex University in England and have always been passionate about history. Fact is often more dramatic than anything we could invent. Early in my filmmaking career I was given the opportunity by History Channel to produce documentary specials about early American history and had little to no visual material to work with. So I had to find a new way to tell these stories within the confines of a documentary format and fell back on what I knew and that was drama. (I was very involved in theater in college.) Continue reading “Lisa Wolfinger, Executive Producer of PBS’s Mercy Street, Talks History and Memory”

Sexual Healing: Nurses, Gender, and Victorian Era Intimacy

By Annika Jensen ’18

In the first episode of the new PBS series Mercy Street, nurse Anne Hastings is seen applying a plaster cast to a wounded soldier’s bare legs before a captivated audience of surgeons and hospital workers. This action seems trivial today, even unquestionable, but as the show progressed and more scenes portrayed this seemingly insignificant concept of touch, of intimacy between a female nurse and her male patients, its true magnitude became apparent.

Sex was not a popular topic of discussion in Civil War Era America; Victorian society shunned intimacy between men and women and regarded intercourse solely as a means of reproducing and building families, a convention that led to the establishment of separate spheres. Women were expected to remain pure and chaste, while men were responsible for fighting off their intrinsic sexual instincts (both of these standards are sexist, of course, but that’s a story for another blog post), and interactions between the genders were meant to be courteous and, frankly, prudish. The publication of The Scarlet Letter in 1850 did not help this case as women became more apprehensive and fearful of the reactions they might receive; no woman wanted to be the subject of public scorn. Continue reading “Sexual Healing: Nurses, Gender, and Victorian Era Intimacy”

PBS’s Mercy Street Shows No Mercy to Traditionalists

By Jen Simone ‘18

Spoilers ahead.

Warning: This show is probably not enjoyable for those with hemophobia. Also, if you like to view the war as a clear-cut conflict between two distinct ideologies, this show is not for you either.

I don’t know if it’s just me being cynical about public disinterest in history, but I was shocked to read that the premiere episode of PBS’ Mercy Street, titled “The New Nurse,” got 3.3 million viewers. Are there really that many people interested in Civil War Era history? There is a great chance that many people unintentionally left PBS on after Downton Abbey, but it wouldn’t shock me if they find themselves intentionally keeping it on again next week. The show was compelling and includes everything a drama should—intensity, romance, and controversy. Most importantly, though, I believe this show has the potential to significantly increase public interest in the Civil War and reveal to the public the true nature of the war.

The show is about a Civil War hospital operating in a mansion in Union-occupied Alexandria, Virginia. The producers certainly did not make this show to answer common questions about the Civil War, but rather to make people start thinking. No character’s belief in the show was left uncontested and many myths were broken. The topic of the show itself is daring, for it is not about the military history of the war, but rather the medical history mixed with civilian life. Continue reading “PBS’s Mercy Street Shows No Mercy to Traditionalists”

Playing Catch-Up: Jonathan Letterman and the Triage System

By Bryan Caswell ’15

"Dr. Jonathan Letterman (1824-72)," Wikimedia Commons. — “Dr. Jonathan Letterman (1824-72),” Wikimedia Commons.

Gettysburg has more than its fair share of heroes. While the overwhelming majority of these larger-than-life figures was intimately acquainted with the conduct of the Battle of Gettysburg, a few stand apart from tales of martial valor. The most famous, of course, is Abraham Lincoln, yet he is not the only man associated with the aftermath of Gettysburg. In the immediate aftermath of the battle, provisions for the care of the wounded and dying left behind by both armies were organized by Major Jonathan Letterman, Medical Director of the Army of the Potomac. Known today as the ‘Father of Battlefield Medicine,’ Letterman has been hailed by historians of the American Civil War as a great medical and surgical innovator, revolutionizing methods of efficient care for wounded soldiers in the field and inventing what has become known as the triage system for prioritizing wound treatment. I’ve been party to numerous tours and talks that have recognized and hailed Letterman for these landmark accomplishments. There is simply one problem with this widespread notion, however: it is, in fact, incorrect.

Continue reading “Playing Catch-Up: Jonathan Letterman and the Triage System”

Treating Private Lorenzo Stocker

By Kristen M. Trout ’15

German immigrant Lorenzo Stocker enlisted in the 40th Pennsylvania Regiment of Volunteers in September 1861 in response to President Lincoln’s call for 75,000 troops. Private Stocker was one of the 800 Pennsylvania-Germans who enlisted in the regiment at Camp Worth in West Philadelphia. The regiment, which would be called the 75th Pennsylvania Regiment after the reorganization of the Army of the Potomac, participated in the battles of Cross Keys, Second Manassas, Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, Gettysburg, Chattanooga, Missionary Ridge, and Knoxville.

Continue reading “Treating Private Lorenzo Stocker”

Writing on the Operating Table: Letters of James Langstaff Dunn, Civil War Surgeon

by Sarah Johnson, ’15 Gerald Linderman???s Embattled Courage defines the pursuit of courage as the prime motivator for Civil War soldiers. For men going off to war, idealistic notions of courage and duty caused them to rise above their fears and fig…

By Sarah Johnson ’15

Gerald Linderman’s Embattled Courage defines the pursuit of courage as the prime motivator for Civil War soldiers. For men going off to war, idealistic notions of courage and duty caused them to rise above their fears and fight for their cause. However, the last chapter of Embattled Courage, titled “Disillusionment”, argues that eventually Civil War soldiers developed a hardened and stoic indifference to the suffering around them. Linderman argues soldiers stopped feeling like a vital part of an important cause and more like a small, insignificant piece of a vain struggle. The letters of James Langstaff Dunn, volunteer surgeon of the 109^th and later 111^th Pennsylvania Volunteers, offer a different interpretation, one that copes with the death and destruction by a grisly determination to see the war to its end.

Dunn’s early letters reflect Linderman’s analysis of Victorian ideals about courage. He wrote his wife on May 2, 1861 assuring her that “the boys are healthy and in good spirits, ready to do their duty.”[i] The 109^th PA received their baptism of fire on August 9, 1862 at the battle of Cedar Mountain. In the aftermath, Dunn spent twenty-four hours in surgery with no food and little water. He performed twenty-two amputations of the thigh alone, and “a great many” on arms.[ii] Dunn would go on to be involved in Second Bull Run, South Mountain, Antietam, Chancellorsville, and Gettysburg before being transferred to the west to Chattanooga, Lookout Mountain, Mission Ridge, and the Siege of Atlanta, in addition to other minor engagements.[iii]

Along the way, Dunn experienced, first-hand, the destruction the war brought. Stealing a moment to himself after Chancellorsville, he wrote to his wife assuring he was safe. The letter begins, “I have just one minute to write and I am writing it on the operating table.”[iv] Charged with putting broken men back together, Dunn was forced to evaluate the costs of the war and justify them to himself. The first patient Dunn lost haunted him. Lieut. Austin, a New Jersey cavalryman, was described by Dunn as “a handsome fellow, not over 21 or 22…I will remember his boyish looks and earnest appeals for help as long as I live.”[v]

A second incident that deeply affected Dunn was the loss of his hometown friend, J. W. Patton. Patton was hit by a shell at the top of the humerus, near where the arm articulates with the shoulder. The hit caused his humerus to fracture all the way down to his elbow. Dunn examined the wound and determined the arm could be saved, but after he passed on to treat another soldier, the arm was amputated by another surgeon.[vii] Amputation of the arm at the shoulder was a relatively simple procedure for an experienced surgeon, disarticulating the humerus at the joint with the shoulder was a natural place to separate and there was rarely a problem with controlling the bleeding. Three-fourths of shoulder amputees survived.[viii] Patton, however, did not. Dunn was profoundly hurt by what he deemed as an unnecessary loss of life; had not thought the arm needed amputation in the first place.

Dunn’s response to the trauma of war was not with disillusionment. His war experiences reflect determination. Dunn’s letters reveal, instead of bitterness with the war, frustrations with the political wavering at home; he was a severe critic of Copperheads and Peace Democrats of the North. Dunn’s tirades against the Copperheads boiled down to a belief that the broken men on the field, bleeding and dying, deserved better than quasi-commitment at home.[ix] Dunn’s 1864 New Year’s Resolution demonstrates his convictions and his justification for the costs of war:

Still, my life is spared. Tomorrow is New Years Day. I hope…that its end may see the close of this fearful War, to be crowned with garlands of a glorious peace in and undivided country, and with every man, black or white, enjoying the rights that God has given him. I know that some call this abolitionism, but it must come as the fruits of the many fearful sacrifices that have been, and are now being made by the best blood of the nation.[x]

[i] Paul Kerr, Civil War Surgeon-Biography of James Langstaff Dunn, MD, AuthorHouse, 2005, Letter to wife, Temperance, May 5, 1862, 21.

[ii] Kerr, Civil War Surgeon, Letter to wife, August 15, 1862, 63.

[iii] Kerr, Civil War Surgeon, 333.

[iv] Kerr, Civil War Surgeon, Letter to wife, May 4, 1863, 92.

[v] Kerr, Civil War Surgeon, Letter to wife, May 12, 1863, 89.

[vi] Kerr, Civil War Surgeon, L
etter to wife, May 12, 1863, 89.

[vii] Kerr, Civil War Surgeon, Letter to wife, May 17, 1863, 94-95.

[viii] Medical and Surgical History of the Civil War, Volume X, Wilmington: Broadfoot Publishing Co., 1991.

[ix] Kerr, Civil War Surgeon, Letter to wife, January 27, 1863, 82.

[x] Kerr, Civil War Surgeon, Letter to wife, December 31, 1863, 153.

Photos from the National Archives.

When War Comes to Town: The Story of Mary McAllister at the Battle of Gettysburg

by Tiffany Santulli, ’13 July 1-3, 1863 was an unprecedented time in the town of Gettysburg. When we look back at these three days we remember the famous generals who led here and the countless soldiers who died. Rarely do the citizens of this sma…

By Tiffany Santulli ’13

July 1-3, 1863 was an unprecedented time in the town of Gettysburg. When we look back at these three days we remember the famous generals who led here and the countless soldiers who died. Rarely do the citizens of this small town enter into the picture. Over the course of three days these townspeople had their entire lives turned upside down. Some fled the approaching conflict, but others decided to stay, despite their fear, and face the horrors of war head on. One such citizen was Mary McAllister.

In 1863, at age 41, Mary was considered a spinster. She lived with her sister Martha and Martha’s husband, John, and they made their livelihood by running a small general store on Chambersburg Street. When the battle commenced Mary did what she could to aid the wounded and feed the hungry soldiers. While she may have been no hero, there is little denying her bravery.

On the first day of battle Mary left her home to go across the street to aid the wounded soldiers at Christ Lutheran Church. There, Mary experienced the grim outcome of battle firsthand. Mary recalled that the church was packed with the wounded as surgeons and doctors went about their business:

“Every pew was full [with the injured]; some sitting, some lying, some leaning on others. They [the surgeons] cut off their limbs and threw them out the window.”

Mary pressed-on in the horror, doing what she could, until “a shell struck the roof and they got scared…” Mary was so frightened by the incident that she ran to her home. Sadly for Mary, she could not escape the war there: “The rebels were sending grapeshot down the street and everyone who was on the street had to get into the houses or be killed and that is the way some of these Union men got into our [the McAllister] house.”

Most of these Union soldiers did not stay long in Mary’s home as they soon found themselves trapped by the Confederates. The injured remained in Mary’s house but the rest were taken away as prisoners. After they left, Mary went to the church again to retrieve a surgeon for the wounded. The surgeon suggested to Mary that she and Martha should hang something red outside the house to indicate that it was a hospital so that the Rebels would leave them alone. Mary and Martha took his advice, but as they were fastening a red shawl to a broom to hang out their window, they witnessed a rather disturbing scene. Some of the Confederate soldiers came riding down the street, firing off their guns and yelling.

They stopped in front of the church where they exchanged some words with the wounded men on the steps. A few minutes later Mary heard a pistol shot and she saw a man lying dead on the pavement. She heard the men on the steps say “Shame! Shame! That was a Chaplain!” and the men on horseback responded that “He was going to shoot.” But the wounded men retorted by saying “He was not armed.” A few minutes later the Rebels “…rode off again, shooting as they had come.”

The second day of battle was calmer for Mary. She cooked and baked for the wounded and at one point she left her home to get a few Union officers some liquor that they had requested. She went to a drug store and made her purchase, but before she left, a shell struck the building, leaving a hole, and the store owner warned her “you will be killed if you stay.” Mary went home and gave the liquor to the officers whom she assumed would be giving it to injured men. Instead, the men divided the alcohol amongst themselves and Mary “never went for any more.”

On the final day of battle Mary went to her warehouse to retrieve a barrel of molasses she had there. Inside she discovered some Rebel soldiers eating it. When Mary told them to stop they insulted her and one of them even threatened to shoot her. Mary solved the issue by confronting a Rebel officer who made the men leave. He told Mary if she was disturbed again to go to his headquarters and he would handle it. Mary was not bothered any further.

Mary’s story may seem mundane in comparison to other accounts of the battle. What makes Mary’s story compelling, though, is that it is of an ordinary civilian caught in the Battle of Gettysburg; she was trying to live her life amongst the turmoil of war. The citizen’s story is often overlooked but Mary’s narrative offers us a rare insight into just what the ordinary civilian faced when war came to their doorstep.

Sources:

McAllister, Mary. An Account of the Battle of Gettysburg by a Citizen of Gettysburg. Gettysburg College Special Collections: 1938.

A Letter Home: Charles E. Goddard and Civil War Medicine

By Natalie Sherif ’14

The Battle of Gettysburg was the bloodiest battle of the bloodiest war in American history. The soldiers who fought there were young and sick most of the time, and, perhaps unbeknownst to the population at home, scared. Modern medicine was still in its infancy. They witnessed horrors and endured hardships that we as a modern audience cannot dare to understand. During the Battle of Gettysburg, the average Union mortality from gunshot wounds to the chest was 62% and 87% for abdominal wounds. By contrast, only approximately 3% of all American wounded failed to survive in World War II. Soldiers of both the Federal and Confederate armies, then, had perfectly good reasons to be afraid. Charles E. Goddard, a soldier in Company K of the 1st Minnesota Regiment, certainly experienced horror at Gettysburg. His regiment is best known for its engagement on July 2, 1863, when the men prevented the Confederates from pushing the Union line off of Cemetery Ridge and bought time in which other forces were brought up. During their stand, 215 of the 263 men suffered casualties and their unit’s flag fell and rose five times. Their 82% casualty rate stands as the highest loss by any surviving military unit in American history during a single engagement.

Goddard expressed the fear and horror he experienced in a letter he sent to his mother the day after the battle ended. It reads:

We have engaged the enemy again but this time in a free country and our company as well as the regt has suffered much Ely and myself are bothe wounded. Ely through the side and myself through the leg and the shoulder. I do not know where Ely is this morning…very dangerous. I am not dangerously wounded, feel first rate and i would like you to give yourself no uneasiness on my account, nor do I think there is any need of Mrs Ely worrying about her son I have not seen him for I am not able to help myself on account of my leg or I would have gone to his assistance, he was fetched off the field and brought to the hospital where I was and then the hospital was moved again and I have not seen him since… Well mother good bye don’t be so foolish as to come down here and worry about me for I am getting along fine don’t let anybody see this letter but if they want to know if any of their friends are wounded you can tell them. The Chaplain will make out an official report and then the people of Minn. will know the true story. C.E. Goddard
Continue reading “A Letter Home: Charles E. Goddard and Civil War Medicine”

A Wounded Alabamian at Gettysburg

By Brian Johnson ’14

The final drama of the Battle of Gettysburg was an ill-fated Union cavalry assault launched against the extreme right of the Confederate lines. It was likely during this fight on July 3rd that twenty-three year-old Lieutenant J.P. Breedlove, of the 4th Alabama, received his wound. A Minié ball entered the right side of his abdomen just above the inguinal ligament (approximately where the seated man above has an entry wound in his front) and traveled downward, severing part of Breedlove’s large intestine before exiting his body. As terrible as this wound was, Breedlove could count himself lucky. From experience, many surgeons knew wounds of the large intestine to be less fatal than wounds of the small intestine. One of the reasons for this higher rate of survival was the relative infrequency with which large intestine wounds became infected. Breedlove’s own experience seems to confirm this, for despite feces escaping from his wound, it healed steadily with only simple dressings for treatment. With this said, however, his wound had not healed over until well into November, some four months after Gettysburg, and was serious enough to necessitate him being left behind at the close of the battle.

With the devastating repulse of Pickett’s Charge, the Army of Northern Virginia was left in a precarious position. Though the Army of the Potomac had been badly worn down during three days of fighting, the specter of it mounting a counterattack remained. General Robert E. Lee had to get his army back across the Potomac River as quickly as possible in order to effectively disengage the enemy. To accomplish this, any man wounded too seriously to travel in a wagon train had to be left behind – Breedlove and some 5,000 other Confederates all told. Continue reading “A Wounded Alabamian at Gettysburg”

The Aftermath at Gettysburg: The Long Road Home

Case ??? Private William Furlong, Co. G, 153rd Pennsylvania Volunteers, aged 33 years, was wounded at the battle of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, July 1st, 1863, by a fragment of shell, which struck the external angular process of the frontal bone and c…

By Thomas Skaggs

Case — Private William Furlong, Co. G, 153rd Pennsylvania Volunteers, aged 33 years, was wounded at the battle of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, July 1st, 1863, by a fragment of shell, which struck the external angular process of the frontal bone and carried away the left superollinary ridge. The wound was about one and a half inches in width and four inches in length. He was insensible only for a short time, and, considering the serious nature of the injury it us remarkable that he walked with his companions to a sand-bank, and actually dug therefrom, with his own hand, the fragments of the shell which inflicted the injury. He received little or no treatment until July 16th, when he was admitted to Cotton Factory Hospital, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Tepid water was injected into the wound and several spiculae of bone were removed from the substance of the brain. One piece, however, was not removed and still remains, as it was feared that hemorrhage would follow; besides, the conscious condition of the patient did not warrant further interference. The pulse throughout remained normal, and sleep natural. On August 10th, the patient was cheerful, and healthy granulations had commenced. There was considerable tumefacation of the left eye, and inability to move eyelids. On forcibly opening them the pupil was found dilated; the intellect was unimpaired. On August 18th, the pulsations of the brain were still manifest, although granulations were nicely closing the wound. During August and September, scales and spiculae of bone which were forced to the surface by the granulations, were removed. He was discharged on September 14th, 1863. He is not a pensioner. The case is reported by Acting Assistant Surgeon Lewis Post.

The casualty lists from the battle of Gettysburg were unprecedented to that point in American history. Thousands of men died in a small town in south central Pennsylvania.The massive loss of life on July 1st through the 3rd can be attributed to many factors – poor tactics and new military technologies have often been put forth as catalysts for the massive bloodshed during those three hot days in 1863. While statistics reflect the great loss of life, individual stories like that of Private William Furlong of the 153rd Pennsylvania put a human face on the catastrophe. For many, Gettysburg was just a name on a list of many battles. For the civilians who lived in Gettysburg, their town had been changed into a massive field hospital catering to thousands of injured soldiers. For Private Furlong, Gettysburg was a moment that forever altered his life. Continue reading “The Aftermath at Gettysburg: The Long Road Home”