Abigail Elizabeth Reynolds, War Correspondent, New York World
Gettysburg Pennsylvania
August 7, 1863
AFTERMATH OF A BATTLE
It has been a little over one month since the Union and Confederate Armies clashed in horrific conflict over the sacred farm lands surrounding this sleepy Pennsylvania community. Over 100,000 soldiers gathered on both sides of the conflict, to slaughter and annihilate one another in bloody pursuit of victory. Each was hoping to bring an answer to the question of whether the Southern States have the right to independent rule and sovereignty as an independent nation. After three horrific days of battle, the question remains largely unanswered. But in its wake, lie more than 50,000 casualties, and the destruction of a quiet community.
I have returned to this small Pennsylvania town, just north of the Mason-Dixon Line, to observe the effects of such a battle on the citizens who remain here. I wish that I had not returned, for the sights, sounds and smells of the past atrocity still vividly remain; and the suffering is more than any person can, or should, endure. The heroic folks of this community are, however, enduring. They are surviving, reconstructing, tending to the wounded left behind and burying the fallen, despite their own losses and suffering.
Everywhere I go, the bodies of fallen soldiers are stacked, some ten to twenty feet high, waiting for a proper burial. Others are tossed into shallow graves, unmarked and unknown, where they fell. The carcasses of dead animals, mules, horses, dogs and a variety of farm animals lie in heaps waiting to be destroyed by fire. The stench of death is so strong in the August heat that there is no escaping it anywhere within fifty miles of Gettysburg. Civilians everywhere wear a mask scented with lavender or other fragrances, attempting to counter the rotting odors of decaying flesh.
Children scurry along the battle grounds, looking for keepsakes left behind by the fallen and retreating soldiers. There is the sound of an occasional explosion, which brings the heartbeat of every mother to a standstill until the child, just killed by a previously unexploded shell, has been identified. So far, over twenty children have lost their lives in this fashion since the fighting ended.
Disease is beginning to take its toll as well. The rotting flesh of man and animal has attracted disease carrying rodents and insects to this town. Many have already succumbed to the effects of dysentery and fever. The local cemetery is reaching its maximum capacity, and efforts are underway by a local attorney to secure property for a national cemetery in which to bury the Union dead.
Every public building, church and school alike, is still being used to house the injured soldiers who have thus far survived. Surgeons from both the Union and Confederacy have remained to care for the wounded. Rumor has spread that these dedicated men will be leaving soon, as more of the soldiers are moved to Washington City to continue their recovery. The process is slow, however. Confederate soldiers, now prisoners of war, will be removed to Union prison camps in Maryland and Ohio as soon as possible. The surgeons will be leaving as well, leaving the remaining care, which will be quite significant, to the local physicians, too few in numbers to be of considerable value. The towns’ people will be left to care for one another as best as they can.
There have been no church services since the battle began on July 1. All of the churches are being used to house and care for the wounded and disabled. Services will not resume until well after the last casualty has been properly cared for and removed to better quarters.
I spoke briefly with Reverend Schumacher of the Lutheran Seminary here in Gettysburg. He stated that the classroom building used from the first day as a hospital is still in use and that classes may not resume until late in the fall. He further stated that the amputated limbs, piled as high as 40 feet around the building, continue to be a source of great concern, attracting undesirable varmints from the countryside. Rats, raccoons, skunks, wild dogs, and birds have descended upon this once holy and sacred ground.
Families of the fallen are arriving daily, in search of their loved ones. Visitors and refugees alike arrive in a steady stream seeking help, lodging, and information. The towns resources seem stretched beyond the breaking point, yet these simple folks continue on, rebuilding and reclaiming their community. The tears, cries, and wailing are beyond any description. The suffering of a broken heart and dream most likely should not to be compared to the suffering the soldiers endured in the brutality of this war. Yet, the suffering of loved ones is equal to, if not greater than, the suffering of the fallen soldier. For the loved one often must sit alone, emptily and helplessly, as their loved one suffers and either lives, or dies.
It is my hope to return to Washington City within the week and leave this place of devastation, destruction, and sorrow behind. Will this town ever recover? The local residents say that it will. Life continues on, in spite of the tragedies encountered. Is life the same as before? Absolutely not, for nothing remains as it was; and everyone, for better or worse, is forever changed by the circumstances of war, and of life. I shall forever more appreciate the daily gift of life, the glory of a sunrise and the majesty of a sunset, the joy and laughter of a small child at the surprise of life, the robin on winged flight, the petals of a new flower, the first frost and the purity of freshly fallen snow, the joy of birth and new life, and the rejoicing of a life, lived fully and wonderfully, as the soul enters into the heavenly realms.
The madness of the present conflict will eventually come to an end. Order will be restored, both across the nation, and in the many small towns like Gettysburg that have already suffered the hardships of war or who will yet encounter the scourge of the war machine. May the end come quickly, before more destruction, devastation, and sorrow are thrust upon the populace of this nation.
