Sanitation

Civil War army camps were notorious as filthy, fetid places and breeding grounds for disease. As one soldier lamented, a military camp in wartime was more often than not essentially "a city without sewerage" (quoted in Hummel 1996, p. 192). These conditions were created by a combination of indifference to basic hygiene, careless disposal of human and animal waste, limited access to clean water, close quarters, and complete ignorance of the ways in which disease-carrying bacteria could move from soldier to soldier.

Old Abe

When soldiers left their homes, they deeply missed their families, wives, and neighbors. Such separation from the home and hearth was mitigated in many sectors of the military by the adoption of mascots, or regimental pets. Mascots have included such unusual pets as geese, hens, pigeons, owls, foxes, hedgehogs, bears, scorpions, raccoons, goats, llamas, and lion cubs as well as the usual dogs and cats (Cooper 2002, pp. 174–181). They have accompanied armies—and navies—into battle since at least the seventeenth century to bolster the troops' morale. Mascots were comforting objects for every soldier's affection far away from home. In addition, mascots were also thought to be symbols of good luck that would bring the soldiers or sailors who cared for them safely home from war (Cooper 2002, pp. 171–173). The Union Navy allowed mascots on board ship; the USS Monitor had a black cat as its mascot (Hoehling 1993, pp. 190–191), while a naval surgeon aboard the USS Fernandina was given a live owl that he kept as a mascot in the vessel's sick bay (Boyer 1963, p. 65).

Perhaps the most famous of these military mascots during the American Civil War, however, was a bald eagle, lovingly nicknamed "Old Abe" by the Eighth Wisconsin Infantry. As Adelaide Smith, an army nurse, recounts in her memoir, "Old Abe" was the soldiers' best friend and not only became a symbol of pride and victory for the men in his regiment, but also a legendary figure throughout the Union.

The Eighth Wisconsin Infantry had some time before sent home their mascot "Old Abe," the hero of twenty battles and many skirmishes. The eagle was taken from its nest by an Indian and presented to Company C., where it became the pet of the regiment. During attacks he was carried at the front on a standard, near the flag—sometimes held by a long cord or chain—he would rise up flapping his great wings, and screeching defiance at the enemy loudly enough to be heard along the line. His reputation made thousands of dollars at fairs and elsewhere. His portrait was painted, and hangs in the Old South Church, Boston. The State pensioned Old Abe and supported an attendant to care for him. He died at last of old age, and his skin is stuffed and safely preserved in the state archives at Madison, Wisconsin. (Smith 1911, pp. 205–206)

carly s. kaloustian

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Boyer, Samuel P. Naval Surgeon: Blockading the South, 1862–1866, ed. Elinor and James A. Barnes. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1963.

Cooper, Jilly. Animals in War. Guilford, CT: Globe Pequot Press, 2002.

Hoehling, A. A. Thunder at Hampton Roads. New York: Da Capo Press, 1993.

Smith, Adelaide W. Reminiscences of an Army Nurse during the Civil War. New York: Greaves Pub. Co., 1911.

Squalid Conditions

Most military camps, whether flying the flag of the Union or the Confederacy, acquired a decidedly grimy appearance—and foul odor—over time. Nearby water supplies were often treated carelessly, resulting in contamination from the waste of soldiers or their horses. As long as the water looked relatively clean, soldiers (and cooks) believed that it was perfectly acceptable to use.

In addition, many camps failed to adequately separate privies from cooking tents, or to implement basic "housekeeping" measures that would have spared some troops from typhoid, dysentery, and other maladies that struck down thousands of soldiers during the course of the conflict. As a result, germ-spreading flies routinely transferred germs from human waste to food stores. One inspector touring Union camps outside Washington, DC, described a grim but typical scene:

In most cases the only sink is merely a straight trench some thirty feet long, unprovided with pole or rail; the edges are filthy, and the stench exceedingly offensive; the easy expedient of daily turning fresh earth into the trench being often neglected. … From the ammoniacal odor frequently perceptible in some camps it is obvious that men are allowed to void their urine, during the night, at least, wherever convenient. (Williams 2005, pp. 208–209)

These failures, coupled with the crowded and poorly ventilated shelters in which soldiers were housed, enabled a wide range of dreaded diseases to stalk the Civil War camps of Rebel and Yankee soldiers. It also became fairly commonplace for new companies, upon reporting for duty, to endure outbreaks of childhood illnesses such as measles and mumps.

Virtually the only exceptions to these squalid conditions were the camps of the regular federal army or those led by West Pointers. In these camps, it was far more likely that at least a few sensible sanitation guidelines would be posted—and obeyed.

Perils for the Wounded

When Confederate and Union troops were on the move during the spring, summer, and fall, they gained respite from the more permanent camps that were such fertile breeding grounds for disease. But although the escape from crowded and poorly ventilated tents and barracks reduced exposure to airborne communicable diseases, it also increased exposure to the natural elements and often made clean drinking water harder to come by. More importantly, if an army was on the march, that generally meant that combat was approaching, and poor sanitation standards posed an enormous threat to wounded soldiers who managed to survive the battlefield.

During the Civil War, scientific and medical knowledge and training was far inferior to what it would be a mere generation later. This essential reality, combined with the sheer volume of casualties in the war, made medical treatment an extremely dicey proposition for wounded troops. Neither field surgeons nor doctors at hospital facilities hundreds of miles from the front lines had any knowledge of the root causes of infections or even basic germ theory. Indeed, army hospitals were notorious breeding grounds for disease. One glimpse at a typically overwhelmed facility explained why: "A more perfect pestilence box than this I never saw," exclaimed the author Louisa May Alcott, who served as an army nurse at Union Hotel Hospital in Washington, DC. "Cold, damp, dirty, full of vile odors from wounds, kitchens, and stables" (Robertson 1984, p. 94). Blood poisoning, erysipelas, pneumonia, and even the measles ravaged army hospitals, and with the medical knowledge and technology of that era, these diseases proved difficult, if not impossible, to treat (Ward 1994, p. 219).

"RULES FOR PRESERVING THE HEALTH OF THE SOLDIER"

On July 12, 1861, the U.S. Sanitary Commission published a report containing its "Rules for Preserving the Health of the Soldier." Written by William H. Van Buren, M.D., and signed by twelve other members of the commission, these rules were shortly afterward reprinted in Harper's Weekly.

Diet and food preparation were among the issues the report addressed. Food rations for the Union Army were generous by the standards of other nineteenth-century armies; as the commissioners noted, "the amount allowed for each man is greater in quantity than the similar allowance for any European soldier" (Harper's Weekly, August 24, 1861, p. 542). Some of the recommendations for food preparation, however, would no longer be accepted, given present-day knowledge that vitamins are destroyed by overcooking: "The bread must be thoroughly baked, and not eaten until it is cold. The soup must be boiled at least five hours, and the vegetables always cooked sufficiently to be perfectly soft and digestible" (p. 542). Similarly, the commission's recommendations about water intake are no longer followed:

Water should be always drank [sic] in moderation, especially when the body is heated. The excessive thirst which follows violent exertion, or loss of blood, is unnatural, and is not quenched by large and repeated draughts; on the contrary, these are liable to do harm by causing bowel complaints. Experience teaches the old soldier that the less he drinks when on a march the better, and that he suffers less in the end by controlling the desire to drink, however urgent. (p. 542)

On the other hand, many of the commission's recommendations were sensible, such as their remarks concerning vaccination against smallpox: "Every officer and soldier should be carefully vaccinated with fresh vaccine matter, unless already marked by small-pox; and in all cases where there is any doubt as to the success of the operation it should be repeated at once" (p. 542). The vaccine in question was supplied by the Surgeon General.

Considerable detail was devoted to personal hygiene and camp sanitation:

There is no more frequent source of disease, in camp life, than inattention to the calls of nature. Habitual neglect of nature's wants will certainly lead to disease and suffering. A trench should always be dug, and provided with a pole, supported by uprights, at a properly selected spot at a moderate distance from camp…. The strictest discipline in regard to the performance of these duties is absolutely essential to health, as well as to decency. Men should never be allowed to void their excrement elsewhere than in the regularly established sinks. In a well regulated camp the sinks are visited daily by a police party, and a layer of earth thrown in, and lime and other disinfecting agents employed to prevent them from becoming offensive and unhealthy….

The tents for the men should be placed as far from each other as the [Army] Regulations and the dimensions of the camp permit (never less than two paces); crowding is always injurious to health. No refuse, slops, or excrement should be allowed to be deposited in the trenches for drainage around the tents. Each tent should be thoroughly swept out daily, and the materials used for bedding aired and sunned, if possible; the canvas should be raised freely at its base, and it should be kept open as much as possible during the daytime, in dry weather, in order to secure ventilation, for tents are liable to become very unhealthy if not constantly and thoroughly aired….

On a march, take especial care of the feet. Bathe them every night before sleeping, not in the morning. Select a shoe of stout, soft leather, with a broad sole, and low heel. (p. 542)

And the commissioners did not neglect morale: "The men should not be over-drilled. It is likely to beget disgust for drill, and to defeat its object…. When practicable, amusements, sports, and gymnastic exercises should be favored among the men, such as running, leaping, wrestling, fencing, bayonet exercise, cricket, baseball, foot-ball, quoits, etc" (p. 542).

rebecca j. frey

SOURCE: "Rules for Preserving the Health of the Soldier." In Report of the U.S. Sanitary Commission. Washington, DC: 1861. Reprinted in Harper's Weekly, August 24, 1861, p. 542.

Conditions were particularly appalling around surgical tables. Equipment was never sterilized, and often water shortages prevented surgeons from even washing their hands. Instead, surgeons would wipe their hands and instruments on towels (Robertson 1984, p. 94). Thus, surgeons passed on diseases and caused infections in the patients they treated. Given these fundamental flaws in medical treatment, it is little wonder that for every Civil War soldier who lost his life on the battlefield, two others were felled by disease.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Catton, Bruce. The Civil War. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1960.

Robertson, James I., Jr., and the editors of Time-Life Books. Tenting Tonight: The Soldier's Life. Alexandria, VA: Time-Life Books, 1984.

Shannon, Fred A. "The Life of the Common Soldier in the Union Army, 1861–1865." In The Civil War Soldier: A Historical Reader, ed. Michael Barton and Larry M. Logue. New York: New York University Press, 2002.

Ward, Geoffrey, with Ric Burns and Ken Burns. The Civil War. New York: Vintage, 1994.

Wiley, Bell Irvin. The Common Soldier of the Civil War. New York: Scribner, 1973.

Kevin Hillstrom