This week I’ve
been working on transcribing some letters written by a Civil War surgeon to his
wife. Though it is tedious at times
trying to decipher the faded, cramped writing, it is also fascinating to read a
first-hand account of the life of a Civil War surgeon. So, I thought I’d share some of his writings.
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| This is an ambrotype of the author of the letters, Assistant Surgeon Isaac F. Kay, Company K, 110th Pa. Infantry, in his uniform. |
Isaac Franklin
Kay was born March 21, 1828 in Bedford County, Pennsylvania. He attended Jefferson Medical College in
Philadelphia starting in 1852. He
enlisted in September, 1861 at the age of 33, and left his wife, Catharine, and
three young children at home.
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| This card was an admission ticket into one of his medical classes. His signature is at the bottom, and the professor, Dr. Thomas Mutter, also signed the card. If you’ve ever visited the Mutter Museum in Philadelphia, this name may be familiar! |
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| This small daguerreotype was donated to the museum along with other items which belonged to Dr. Kay. Though it was not identified, it is likely this image is of Mrs. Kay. It is possible this is one of the “likenesses” he refers to in his letter. |
Though Southerners
are generally known for their hospitality, Surgeon Kay complained to his wife of
his treatment by the locals, “Women
insult us in passing by. They call us
"Blue Bellied Yankees."
Considering his location at the time, I suspect he’s lucky that’s all
they called him!
Surgeon Kay also
wrote of the physical hardships he endured.
In a letter from Martinsburg, Virginia, dated March 11, 1862 he writes, “We marched here today. The Regt. will encamp about 4 miles from
town. We walked on the R Road 12 miles
today and my feet are so sore & my stockings worn out that my feet are
blistered so badly that I can hardly stand that daily…. I could not get one pair of stockings in this
place. Cotton you know. I wear nothing else…. Darling I must close & join the Regt.
which is 3 or 4 miles ahead. My feet are
so sore I can scarcely travel. I am
going on as soon as I finish this to get with them.”
On March 21,
1862, he writes, “We stopped overnight,
layed down on the cold ground. I did not
sleep any was so cold and had nothing to cover myself with, but am used to that.”
And in an undated
letter, he writes, “We returned to Strasburg
and were put in a low bottom field to pass the night, it [was] raining &
mud 6 inches deep. We nearly all got
sick. My throat is very sore…. It was one of the hardest nights I put in
in my life. I have no [illegible word]
and nothing to cover me. Stood by the
fire all night nearly frozen. I
commenced to write to you sitting by the fire on a rail but it was too cold
& too hard for me. I could not
finish it. In the morning we were ordered
to return to this camp on this place through the rain and mud 6 inches
deep. I don't believe there was ever an
Army in the United States had to endure the hardships we have been obliged to
endure.”
Surgeon Kay seemed
to spare his wife the worst of what he saw during the war. He mentions in one letter that he will have
to wait until he is home to tell her of some of the things he has seen. He does briefly describe one bloody scene for
her though, “There was a little fight
where we were encamped. Ten Rebels
killed and Col. Ashby's horse leg shot off by a Canon ball, it is lying in
sight of me while I am writing. I saw
the blood along the stone fence [where] the Rebels were killed, it occurred the
day before we came here.”
The war and the
separation from his family soon begin to take their toll on Surgeon Kay. On April 3, 1862 he writes from Winchester,
Virginia, “Oh! My dear my darling wife, This
is the 7th letter I have written to you since the Battle & Oh! this day I
have been almost frantic not having had an answer to any one of them. Must I die darling because I cannot hear from
you? You have been so punctual before…. how can it be that I cannot hear from you,
when almost every member of the Regt. has had letters. I cannot sleep my dear my darling wife! Oh!
No, if I do not hear from you soon I do not know what I shall do for I
will die for want of not but a letter from you…. Oh! my dear wife I pray to God [daily] that
you and the dear little children may keep well.
We are in the midst of an awful war we are not safe to leave Camp. This country is full of Rebels.” The depth of his homesickness, and
possibly depression, are revealed when he proceeds to tell her, “Oh! my dear my darling wife to relieve an
absent and affectionate husband's brains, write immediately to me. Oh! I
only think (in this dark time of trial) of my dear family & my God…. I am disconsolate and only because I am
separated from you. Oh! When I think of home, you, & our dear
children I cry like a child and every one notices it. I sometimes feel ashamed.”
Despite all of
this, Surgeon Kay was clearly pleased to be doing his part in the war. He often commented on the good and brave
soldiers who were in his Regiment and Brigade, and also remarked on what a
splendid country he served. He writes from Winchester, “We had
no rations…. [in] our Regiment, [though] all the rest of the Brigade had. We had nothing. Genl. Tyler called our Regt. out and said,
officers and soldiers to day there will be a big Battle at Winchester and if
you will agree to march with the balance of the Brigade at Winchester and if
you without anything to eat, you can do so, and if you would prefer waiting
until you get rations, you can do so.
Every man said, we will go without anything to eat and fight as hard as
those who have something to eat. We
cheered the Genl. vigorously several times & away he went for the field of
Battle, but he was proud.” It seems
that Surgeon Kay was also rightfully proud.
Dr. Kay was able
to return home after the war. After
reading his letters it is not difficult to imagine that he was very happy to be
back with his family!
Photos
courtesy of the National Museum of Civil War Medicine.
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