Читать книгу The Inventive Life of Charles Hill Morgan: The Power of Improvement In Industry, Education and Civic Life - Allison Chisolm - Страница 29

By 1862, the household of Harriet and Charles was well established at 222 North Second Street in what was known as the North Ward of Camden, New Jersey. They continued to live together with eight-year-old Harry, Charles’ brother Henry and his father Hiram. Their other brother, Cyrus, lived a block away on Penn Street. Hatty was pregnant, due in the summer.

From their residential neighborhood, Charles, Henry and Hiram could walk to the ferry landing, commuting daily across the Delaware River to the office in Philadelphia for a nickel or less.

The business at 217 Lodge St. was not far along Market Street, straight off the Camden landing. The office address was a good one—only three blocks east of Independence Square and near the old Pennsylvania Bank. They rented space from Merrihew & Thompson, the printers on the first floor. Stephen E. Merrihew had served as a witness to one of Morgan’s legal documents even before Morgan’s relocation south to Philadelphia.

Despite the drumbeats of war all around the city, the business was growing and family life continued its routines. As her due date drew near, Hatty decided to escape Philadelphia’s summer heat and travelled back to Clinton, where her family could attend the birth. In July 1862, she went into labor, but had a complicated delivery. She delivered a baby son, Hiram, but both mother and baby tragically died shortly thereafter, on July 20. She was 31. Home births were the standard for the era, and a mortality rate of five deaths for every 1,000 births remained the average for most of the 19^th century. “Childbed fever” was a fear of every pregnant woman, and in a time without awareness of bacterial infection or the vital importance of hygiene at birth, death following labor was all too common.

There are no surviving diaries or letters from this period of personal loss and grief, but Charles Morgan evidently continued operating Morgan Brothers with his brother. At some point after his wife’s death, Morgan became an active member of the New England Soldiers’ Relief Association.

He purchased a diary to track his work with Civil War wounded. He titled it “Record of New England Soldiers in U.S. Hospital at Turners Lane” and dated it Philadelphia, November 1, 1862.

While the streets of Philadelphia saw no battles, the Civil War was sending more wounded soldiers into the city’s hospitals throughout the balance of 1862. Philadelphia was home to two of the nation’s largest military hospitals, with thousands of beds in each one, but the numbers of wounded required even more facilities. At one point, the city had 24 military hospitals, which treated an estimated 157,000 soldiers and sailors by the war’s end.

Turner’s Lane Military Hospital was a far smaller, 400-bed facility built in north Philadelphia at the end of the summer of 1862. It became the city’s research hospital dedicated to nervous diseases and the site of the nation’s first neurological studies. Soldiers who had undergone amputations suffered from such post-traumatic disorders as “ghost limb,” feeling pain in the missing limb. They found special care at Turner’s Lane.

Turner’s Lane Hospital, c. 1864

While the Association paperwork glued into Morgan’s diary, which must have served as his pass into the hospital, was dated July 1, 1862, the first entries on soldiers and their state of health date from November 10 and continue through the winter into 1863. The diary, which indexes some of the soldiers alphabetically, has 84 entries, with every New England state represented. Each entry includes some detail about the soldier, listing their name, rank, company, bed number, ward number, and in certain entries, their hometown, and penciled in at bedside, their medical condition. According to his notes, soldiers at the Turner’s Lane hospital suffered from “fever followed by Rheumatism,” chronic diarrhea, “dyspepsia,” chronic bronchitis, contusions on hip and spine and “lung difficulty with night sweats.”

On two occasions, he noted their wishes, while there is no record of whether they were fulfilled: “Wants to be transferred,” he wrote of one soldier, and for another, “Wants stockings.”

His notes also detail what happened next for these soldiers. While a few returned to their regiments, several transferred to other hospitals for further care. At least three deserted, with Morgan meticulously recording each date. Some were simply discharged, and others died.

A ward at Turner’s Lane Hospital, c. 1864