Disunion follows the Civil War as it unfolded.
It happened so fast. As Maj. Gen. John Bell Hood of the Confederacy led his soldiers into action at the battle of Chickamauga on Sept. 20, 1863, a Minié ball struck his right leg; later that day his leg was amputated four inches below the hip. Although such operations resulted in an 80 percent casualty rate throughout the Civil War, Hood survived, and traveled with his damaged appendage to the residence of the Little family, 15 miles away from the battlefield.
This marked Hood's third major combat injury; he had suffered an arrow through the hand while fighting Comanche Indians in 1857, and had lost the function of his left arm after being struck by shell fragments at Gettysburg. Hood was a famous general, but he now faced an outlook shared by hundreds of thousands of other soldiers who were likewise injured during the war. He became dependent on the kindness of strangers, like the Little family, in order to start his long road to recovery in the midst of a realization that he would live the rest of his life as a disabled man.
Ammunition was the great equalizer of the war. The projectiles fired by muskets, rifles and artillery pieces worked like a battering ram upon the bodies of soldiers. Shot and shell shredded flesh, severed blood vessels and shattered bones. Thousands of men on both sides of the geographical divide returned home missing a limb, creating a permanent class of disabled and dependent men. Such veterans faced bouts of chronic pain, immobility and the gawks and stares of citizens who viewed the missing appendages as a macabre spectacle.
Disabled men relied on their spouses and families to assist them in dealing with the everyday physical and emotional rigors of life. Damaged veterans also remained dependent on society's willingness to concede that amputation and the altering of the white male body had shattered traditional gender roles, as injured men no longer appeared or functioned as they had before the war. Amputees were also dependent on government programs, whether at the federal level for Union veterans or the state level for Confederate veterans, for prosthetic limbs and pension payments.
Following a recovery stint in Georgia, Hood headed to Richmond, Va., where he found himself the center of attention among the social circle of the diarist Mary Chesnut. While Hood initially welcomed the support at his first dinner party, the crowd of well-wishers overwhelmed the wounded officer, as dozens came by to express their sorrow over his missing leg. Hood headed for the exit as he stated, "So many strangers scare me always. I can't run as I did before."
As time passed, Hood adjusted to the attention and accepted the fact that he remained dependent on the kindness of others, who brought him puddings or cut up oranges. Others helped him physically navigate his damaged body from location to location, "handling him as tenderly on his crutches as if he were the Princess of Wales' newborn baby," according to Chesnut. President Jefferson Davis of the Confederacy, who befriended Hood during his recovery, assisted the handicapped officer down the church steps after Sunday services.
Hood's missing leg remained on the mind of anyone who encountered him during his four-month stint in Richmond. Some burst into tears. Others immediately offered their assistance. Still others wanted to talk endlessly about the amputated limb. One woman noted, "No wonder the general says they talk of him as if he were a centipede. His leg is in everybody's mouth."
At times, some tried to make light of Hood's condition, but it drew a stern rebuke from his female entourage. "Your jokes are too rough," Chesnut snapped back at a man who attempted a leg joke. "To talk before ladies of legs, off or on. Never did I dream that people would say such things about a man's horrible mutilation before his face."
Hood's disability drew the attention of several potential female suitors, but he privately expressed reservations against marrying anyone who wanted to spend time with a "maimed creature." He found himself emotionally torn between wanting someone to love and assist him with the daily chores of life and the fact that many able-bodied men might make a more suitable husband.
Eventually, he settled on Sally Preston, known as Buck, who showed minimal interest toward Hood but did fancy the idea of being courted by a Confederate officer. Preston remained conflicted about her true feelings for Hood. On one occasion at the theater, Preston acted as a bodyguard to protect Hood from the rush of the crowd, as the general leaned on his crutches in the hallway. A few days later, she declared during a party, with her romantic pursuer within hearing distance, "Engaged to that man! Never! For what do you take me?"
Related
Disunion Highlights
Explore multimedia from the series and navigate through past posts, as well as photos and articles from the Times archive.
Although Hood felt heartbroken and would rather die than endure continued rejection, the couple mysteriously announced their engagement a few weeks later, but it fizzled out by year's end. Chesnut remained convinced that Preston did not love Hood, but rather had mustered up nothing more than some "sympathy for the wounded soldier."
In January of 1864, Hood rode a horse before a crowd of supporters for the first time since his amputation. One witness remarked, "He has body enough left to hold his soul." Hood recalled, "My restoration was so complete that I was enabled to keep in the saddle when on active duty, and, during the remainder of the war, never to require an ambulance either day or night." His physical recovery prompted a return to the military, where he would serve as a corps commander with the Army of Tennessee. Hood expressed great joy and declared, "This has been the happiest year of any, in spite of all my wounds."
Hood survived the war, and died in 1879. Although he spent the rest of his life struggling and adjusting to his disability, for now, at least, he was happy to be back home in the saddle once again.
Follow Disunion at twitter.com/NYTcivilwar or join us on Facebook.
Brian Craig Miller teaches 19th-century American history at Emporia State University. He is the author of "John Bell Hood and the Fight for Civil War Memory" and the forthcoming "Empty Sleeves: Amputation in the Civil War South."
Anda sedang membaca artikel tentang
Opinionator | Disunion: John Bell Hoodâs Leg
Dengan url
http://opinimasyarakota.blogspot.com/2013/12/opinionator-disunion-john-bell-hoodas.html
Anda boleh menyebar luaskannya atau mengcopy paste-nya
Opinionator | Disunion: John Bell Hoodâs Leg
namun jangan lupa untuk meletakkan link
Opinionator | Disunion: John Bell Hoodâs Leg
sebagai sumbernya
0 komentar:
Posting Komentar